Ghostbusters: Afterlife (2021)
Broke and down on her luck, Callie Spengler along with her two children Phoebe and Trevor, inherit a farm owned by her estranged Father, Egon Spengler. Earth tremors and other unexplained incidents subsequently occur and Phoebe soon discovers her family heritage. That is the plot of Ghostbusters: Afterlife in a nutshell. If you are looking for innovation and a new take on the existing lore then you will be disappointed. This film is the embodiment of a fan service and a concerted attempt to repurpose an older franchise for a new generation. Ghostbusters: Afterlife is heavily invested in paying tribute to the original 1984 film. Rather than just make a few subtle references to the source material, director Jason Reitman bludgeons the audience with a continuous barrage of recreations of set pieces, callbacks and homages. After the first ten minutes it is quite clear what is on offer and it does at times become a little wearing. It’s a bit like watching a very good quality tribute band. But if this is what you want then you’ll be rewarded in spades.
Broke and down on her luck, Callie Spengler along with her two children Phoebe and Trevor, inherit a farm owned by her estranged Father, Egon Spengler. Earth tremors and other unexplained incidents subsequently occur and Phoebe soon discovers her family heritage. That is the plot of Ghostbusters: Afterlife in a nutshell. If you are looking for innovation and a new take on the existing lore then you will be disappointed. This film is the embodiment of a fan service and a concerted attempt to repurpose an older franchise for a new generation. Ghostbusters: Afterlife is heavily invested in paying tribute to the original 1984 film. Rather than just make a few subtle references to the source material, director Jason Reitman bludgeons the audience with a continuous barrage of recreations of set pieces, callbacks and homages. After the first ten minutes it is quite clear what is on offer and it does at times become a little wearing. It’s a bit like watching a very good quality tribute band. But if this is what you want then you’ll be rewarded in spades.
As you would expect from a tent-pole movie such as Ghostbusters: Afterlife, the production values are very high and the visual effects exemplary. Despite using modern CGI and animatronics, the look and feel of the proton packs, ghost traps and supernatural beasts is very authentic. Muncher, a new variant on Slimer, is clearly in the same idiom and an enjoyable variant. For me, the best aspect of this two hour fan service was composer Rob Simonsen’s loving recreation and adaptation of Elmer Bernstein classic score. Bernstein’s son Peter acted as consultant, providing guidance on the orchestration. Simonsen even includes a ondes martenot throughout the score, played by Cynthia Millar, who also played the same instrument on Bernstein's 1984 Ghostbusters score. Seldom does an iconic film soundtrack get so lovingly reinterpreted.
Any film centred on a cast of young or teenage actors is always taking a calculated risk as far it’s a difficult thing to get right. A few directors such as the great Joe Dante (Gremlins, Explorers and The Hole) have an inherent ability to portray young people authentically. Not everyone else fairs so well. However, in the case of Ghostbusters: Afterlife, Phoebe Spengler (Mckenna Grace) carries the film. She is charming, funny and her burgeoning friendship with fellow nerd and social outcast, Podcast (Logan Kim) is quite droll. The teenage romance between her brother Trevor (Finn Wolfhard) and “carhop” Lucky Domingo (Celeste O'Connor ) is not so endearing, being somewhat contrived and formulaic. The ageless Paul Rudd does compensate by providing some amusing leftfield comic relief as Gary Grooberson; Phoebe and Podcast's summer school science teacher.
For many viewers the main attraction of Ghostbusters: Afterlife is the appearance of the original actors. They are together on screen for approximately 10 minutes at the climax of the film. Dan Ackroyd, Bill Murray and Ernie Hudson each get a small scene to themselves during the course of the film. Ray Stanz speaks to Phoebe on the phone as a means to expedite the story. Peter Venkman has a mid-credit scene with Dana Barrett (Sigourney Weaver) and Winston Zeddemore (Ernie Hudson) has a rather portentous post credit scene which heavily implies an immediate sequel or at least further entries in the series. Some may balk at the brevity of these vignettes but I personally found them very enjoyable. However, considering the respective age of all concerned, this was a prudent decision as an entire movie based upon their geriatric antics would have strained credibility.
Is Ghostbusters: Afterlife entertaining? Yes, I liked the majority of the film and the story did pick up after the first 30 minutes. I suspect that some content may have been removed to bring the running time down to manageable 2 hours. The town Summerville is conspicuously empty at the film’s denouement and the missing population is not explained. The humour is dry and at times surprisingly adult but the original 1984 film had a similar tone. However, I did find myself being continuously pulled out of my sense of immersion due to the hamfisted barrage of references to the source material. Fans are sometimes too close to that which they love and can lose their sense of objectivity. I certainly think that is the case here. Hence, be aware of this before watching Ghostbusters: Afterlife so you can adjust your expectations accordingly.
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.
Catch Us If You Can (1965)
Catch Us If You Can is a very curious cinematic vehicle for the popular sixties band, The Dave Clark Five. At first glance, especially during the opening credits, it comes across as a zany comedy in a similar idiom to The Beatles’ A Hards Days Night. However, within 15 minutes the plot takes an unexpected turn and the film becomes a rather well observed analysis of sixties youth marketing and the perennial subject of “the price of fame”. The songs are not played by the band on screen but are instead just part of the overall musical soundtrack. It’s a very different approach but that seems to be the defining quality of the film. It is not as expected, which is both its primary virtue and its main failing. The fact that this film was released under the title of Having a Wild Weekend just makes things more confusing. It is certainly not for everyone but that can be said about many of the films directed by John Boorman. Catch Us If You Can marks his cinematic debut.
Catch Us If You Can is a very curious cinematic vehicle for the popular sixties band, The Dave Clark Five. At first glance, especially during the opening credits, it comes across as a zany comedy in a similar idiom to The Beatles’ A Hards Days Night. However, within 15 minutes the plot takes an unexpected turn and the film becomes a rather well observed analysis of sixties youth marketing and the perennial subject of “the price of fame”. The songs are not played by the band on screen but are instead just part of the overall musical soundtrack. It’s a very different approach but that seems to be the defining quality of the film. It is not as expected, which is both its primary virtue and its main failing. The fact that this film was released under the title of Having a Wild Weekend just makes things more confusing. It is certainly not for everyone but that can be said about many of the films directed by John Boorman. Catch Us If You Can marks his cinematic debut.
A group of London stuntmen are contracted to work for an advertising agency that is shooting a commercial for the Meat Industry at Smithfield market. Steve (Dave Clark) finds the arthouse approach to the filming tiresome and after a take, decides to drive off in an E-type Jaguar that is being used for the shoot. The actress and model starring in the commercial, Dinah (Barbara Ferris), decides to come with him in defiance of her mentor, the advertising executive Leon Zissell (David de Keyser), The two go searching for some meaning to their lives. Steve seeks out his mentor Louie who trained him in Judo when he was a youth. Dinah wants to go to a deserted resort island off the coast of Devon. Meanwhile, Zissell sees an opportunity to turn their impromptu excursion into a major publicity stunt and claims Dinah has been kidnapped. Steve’s friends attempt to keep Zissell’s henchmen and publicity machine away from the couple while they make their journey.
Over the course of an hour and a half, the story veers from the superficial to philosophical self examination. This ranges from scuba diving in a London open air pool, to debating counterculture with a group of hippies living in a Ministry of Defence village. There are times when you ponder whether you should be laughing at events and dialogue, or whether it is all in earnest. I can’t help but think it’s the latter and that Boorman was trying to give audiences something different. A critique of the very culture they consumed and were part of. Hardly surprising when you realise that the screenplay is by the playwright Peter Nichols. The ending of the film is rather poignant but also somewhat bleak. Those expecting the traditional boy meets girl, boy gets girl narrative will need to look elsewhere. This is more of a case of girl leaves boy, for older controlling man because they’re locked in a strange interdependent, symbiotic relationship.
Another noteworthy point is that this film isn’t scared to fly in the face of the squeaky clean image that the Beatles perpetuated in their feature films. It touches upon drugs, although the lead character doesn’t use them and there’s an undercurrent of unrequited love. There’s a curious vignette where Dinah and Steve meet an eccentric married couple played by Robin Bailey and the marvellous Yootha Joyce. There is a strong element of concealed passion as they flirt with their young counterparts. Is it sexual or is it a longing for youth and its accompanying optimism. Again the dialogue takes an existential turn as the cast reflect upon the nature of hope. “The young are callously hopeful. I’m Not. Then you should be, to set us an example”. These subtle adult themes appear not to have escaped the notice of the contemporary ratings board. Hence the current UK re-release of the film is rated 12 by the BBFC.
Setting aside the rather bespoke nature of the film the essential question one inevitably has to ask is does it work? Yes it does within the confines of its remit but it makes for ponderous viewing. I’m not sure that fans of The Dave Clark Five expected or wanted a film of this nature. It’s not unreasonable to assume that they wanted a wacky comedy in the idiom of Help, where the band play exaggerated and witty versions of themselves. Instead they got a drama about a group of stuntmen, a possessive advertising executive and an oppressed model. Dave Clark is filled with existential angst and is brooding but it hardly makes him a compelling lead. The rest of the band make sardonic quips but have far less screen time. However, sixties cinema was open to experimentation and Catch Us If You Can is certainly a horse of a different colour. It wrong foots viewer expectations in the same way Mrs. Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter does.
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 Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies Extended Edition (2014)
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring, the first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
The Battle of the Five Armies is noticeably shorter than it's two predecessors, mainly because there is insufficient narrative to sustain the proceedings. Even the extended edition which adds a further 20 minutes to the running time, increasing it to 164 minutes, is mainly driven by one ongoing action sequence which is the titular battle. After the somewhat languid pace of the first movie and the bloated excess of the second, this further change of pace seems somewhat perplexing. Despite the more economical running time, events occur very rapidly. Perhaps a little too rapidly. It can be cogently argued that it somewhat diminishes the impact of some of them. Perhaps the biggest issue being the demise of Smaug. It comes promptly at the start of The Battle of the Five Armies and although spectacular, it quickly negates a major plot element.
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring, the first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
The Battle of the Five Armies is noticeably shorter than it's two predecessors, mainly because there is insufficient narrative to sustain the proceedings. Even the extended edition which adds a further 20 minutes to the running time, increasing it to 164 minutes, is mainly driven by one ongoing action sequence which is the titular battle. After the somewhat languid pace of the first movie and the bloated excess of the second, this further change of pace seems somewhat perplexing. Despite the more economical running time, events occur very rapidly. Perhaps a little too rapidly. It can be cogently argued that it somewhat diminishes the impact of some of them. Perhaps the biggest issue being the demise of Smaug. It comes promptly at the start of The Battle of the Five Armies and although spectacular, it quickly negates a major plot element.
Smaug is killed by Bard but his body falls on Lake Town leaving it in utter ruin. The survivors of Esgaroth are aided by the Wood Elves and both parties subsequently seek restitution from the Dwarves. The men of Lake Town hold the Dwarves accountable for their current situation and the Elves who harbour a longstanding grudge regarding outstanding debts that the Dwarves have not paid. However, Thorin refuses to help which leads to a diplomatic impasse. He summons his cousin Dain from the Iron Hills to provide reinforcements. In the meantime Azog then springs his trap and lays siege to Erebor and all camped outside, resulting in the battle between Dwarves, Elves, Men and Orcs. The film does resolve the major storylines, yet it does feel both a little rushed and contrived. Again the screenplay feels the need to reference and link to future events featured in The Lord of the Rings.
Lore purists will find The Battle of the Five Armies the hardest to stomach because Peter Jackson really does indulge his penchant for narrative simplification, restructuring events and the fetishization of weapons, armour and fantasy combat. The Fili, Tauriel, Legolas love triangle and associated fallout is simply too contrived and unengaging. The White Council's assault on Dol Guldur featuring a 92 year old Christopher Lee beating seven bells out of the Ringwraiths, although thoroughly amusing, does raise an eyebrow. The fact that you can conveniently ride from Lake Town to Mount Gundabad in a day and that Middle-earth is populated with Frank Herbert style giant worms, may also come as a surprise to the faithful. The less said about Beorn free falling from an eagle and turning into a Werebear on the way down, the better.
As I have mentioned in my previous reviews, the depiction of Thorin in these movies is woefully lacking, turning him into a broody, pouting, inaccessible caricature. This time round for want of a better description, Thorin goes a bit "Macbeth". I'll give credit where credit is due and state that Richard Armitage does provide a good performance. But the screenplay doesn't really do the character justice and the plot device about the "Dragon's sickness" is arbitrary to say the least. Yet every now and then, there are sequences and passages of dialogue that come directly from the book. Once again, for everything that Peter Jackson gets right, there's also something that is way off the mark. The pivotal point of the movie should have been Thorin's death but it lacks any emotional impact and is only saved by the presence of Martin Freeman.
Dain Ironfoot (Billy Connolly) makes an impressive entrance riding a War Boar and has an expanded role in the extended version. Beorn and Radagast appear briefly but serve no major purpose than to provide reinforcements to the climactic battle. And what on earth possessed Peter Jackson to kill off Stephen Fry so quickly in the story and yet keep Alfrid Lickspittle as some crass source of so-called comic relief? Mercifully, we still have stalwart performances from Martin Freeman and Sir Ian McKellen who do much of the heavy lifting. Lee Pace proves to be a more interesting character this time round, as Thranduil's motives prove to be less binary than those of Thorin Oakenshield. He tempers his desires for restitution when he sees the extent of the Elven dead and sees the folly of his actions.
As ever the set pieces are immaculately produced and push the violence levels for this kind of movie to the limit. They stay on the right side of the ratings board mainly because the bulk of the decapitations, impalements and bludgeonings happen to non-humans. The death of more central characters tend to be more discrete. The main problem with the frenetic action is that it strives to continuously outdo itself, resulting in scenes that tax the audience's credibility even for this genre of movie. For example Legolas climbs a flight of stone steps leading to a crumbling tower, literally as they fall away beneath him, proving that Elves are indifferent to the laws of physics. A better director would restrain themselves, rather than allow such self indulgence and excess. Also some of the mutilated Orcs and Trolls seem more at home in Clive Barker’s Hellraiser than in Tolkien’s The Hobbit.
If you like the aesthetic that Peter Jackson has created over the years, as well as grandiose spectacle, then The Battle of the Five Armies will prove to be an entertaining diversion. If you want anything more, then prepare to be disappointed. I find it ironic that a trilogy of movies about the adventures of Bilbo Baggins, seems so content to include so little of him on screen. By changing the shift of the story from his perspective, to that of the wider events in Middle-earth, something very important has been lost from these sprawling adaptations. Peter Jackson and his team may well be very knowledgeable in the works of Professor Tolkien but I do wonder if he has fully understood them. As I've said before, these movies are very much Jacksons’ interpretation of The Hobbit. I wonder if there would have been a greater emotional depth and perception of the source text, if these films had been directed by Guillermo del Toro as they were originally intended?
I recently considered whether or not I should find a new MMORPG to play. A cursory Google search showed that there were plenty of titles that I have not tried. Unfortunately, they are predominantly fantasy based games drawing upon the established tropes and themes of the dungeons and dragons genre and the wider sword and sorcery literature. This begs the question “why aren’t there more science fiction or non-fantasy based MMOs?” apart from the handful that currently exist? After a little research and a degree of thinking it becomes very apparent that the answer to this question is mainly a business decision made by publishers. Furthermore, that business decision is based upon several specific factors. All of which cumulatively tip the scales towards fantasy, rather than science fiction or some other complex but non fantasy based franchise.
I had the pleasure of seeing Solomon Kane at the Empire Leicester Square upon its initial release. I remember at the time how I found it very refreshing to see an independent horror film that treated its underlying material with the respect it deserved. The genre was somewhat in the doldrums at the time, awash with soulless remakes and endless franchise sequels, produced by cynical studios that were ultimately contemptuous of the material they utilised and the fans that watched it. Although not a literal adaptation of the series of short stories by Robert E. Howard, Solomon Kane successfully captured their spirit and broadened their scope to accommodate both the horror and fantasy genres.
“In the universe there are things man cannot hope to understand. Powers he cannot hope to possess. Forces he cannot hope to control. The Four Crowns are such things. Yet the search has begun. A soldier of fortune takes the first step. He seeks a key that will unlock the power of the Four Crowns and unleash a world where good and evil collide”. So reads the Star Wars-esque opening crawl for the 1983 3D action movie, Treasure of the Four Crowns. It’s worth noting that when it appears on screen, this text is written in capitals and devoid of any punctuation. The movie is also a Cannon Films production. These facts may give viewers an inkling of what is to come over the next 100 minutes. It is certainly best to abandon expectations of linear, narrative filmmaking. Treasure of the Four Crowns is unique, batshit crazy and yet curiously entertaining.
I recently watched the first trailer for the new Obi-Wan Kenobi television show that is premiering on Disney + in May. I am interested in this latest instalment in the Star Wars franchise and curious as to whether Liam Neeson will make an appearance. I also watched a 20 minute fan video in which they “analysed” the entire trailer. They discussed the content of this 2 minute preview and then did a great deal of speculating about potential themes and characters that may feature in the show. They were clearly enthusiastic about what they had seen and were very knowledgeable about the subject. This resonated with me, as I like to be well versed about the things I enjoy. However, it is worth remembering that fandom can tip into obsession and gatekeeping. Hence I feel there is a subject to explore here.
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring, the first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
The Battle of the Five Armies is noticeably shorter than it's two predecessors, mainly because there is insufficient narrative to sustain the proceedings. Even the extended edition which adds a further 20 minutes to the running time, increasing it to 164 minutes, is mainly driven by one ongoing action sequence which is the titular battle. After the somewhat languid pace of the first movie and the bloated excess of the second, this further change of pace seems somewhat perplexing. Despite the more economical running time, events occur very rapidly. Perhaps a little too rapidly. It can be cogently argued that it somewhat diminishes the impact of some of them. Perhaps the biggest issue being the demise of Smaug. It comes promptly at the start of The Battle of the Five Armies and although spectacular, it quickly negates a major plot element.
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring, the first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
I love the medium of film immensely. I like a wide range of genres and will happily watch weighty human dramas as well as the worst sort of trashy exploitation fodder. The key to reconciling such widely differing types of cinema is to judge them within their own context. Therefore don't compare the respective worth of Citizen Kane with The Golden Voyage of Sinbad, or Bicycle Thieves with The Medusa Touch. So because of the nature of Peter Jackson's adaptation of The Hobbit, I am prepared to make concessions to the fact that it is a big budget fantasy blockbuster franchise. Also the source material from which the film derives is quite sparse, often being nothing more than footnotes, or summations of history. Thus there is scope for a lot of "adaptation", artistic license and creativity. Jackson got a lot of this right with The Lord of the Rings trilogy, over a decade ago. I do not believe that to be the case this time round.
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring. The first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
Firstly let me start by saying I think the word unexpected is very apt in respect of the first instalment of Peter Jackson's three part adaptation of Tolkien's prequel to The Lord of the Rings. It is genuinely surprising how well parts of the narrative had been adapted and interpreted. Similarly there are other aspects that are less successful. Overall the good outweighs the bad but only the most ardent fanboy or girl would think the movie flawless. When one considers its problematic production along with the change of directors, this is quite an achievement. I wonder how much of Guillermo del Toro’s material survived into Peter Jacksons, Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens revised screenplay? Secondly, a decade on from The Lord of the Rings, there has been a further move away from physical visual effects and filming on photographic film. Both of these changes are noticeable in An Unexpected Journey but the presence of Peter Jackson and his very specific style of filmmaking maintains a very strong sense of continuity.
In December it will be the twenty year anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring. The first entry in Peter Jackson’s trilogy of film adaptations of Professor Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. I was utterly swept up in the hype and media frenzy that persisted for three years around these movies between 2001 and 2003. I certainly have fond memories of seeing each film on the first day of its release at the prestigious Leicester Square Odeon in London. Broadly speaking I was very impressed with all three films at the time of their release. However, over the years excitement and fandom has been tempered with a greater degree of critical analysis and appraisal. Having recently watched the Extended Editions of all three films, remastered in 4K, I now think it would be pertinent to revise my thoughts on them and repost them here on Contains Moderate Peril. This initial post is intended more as an overview on the trilogy. I shall write three new in depth reviews in due course.
Before I begin, let’s just take a moment to remind ourselves about the notion of historical context. Movies, like so many other aspects of popular culture, reflect the prevailing attitudes of the time they were created. The reason I mention this is because within a few minutes of watching Arabian Adventure, viewers will become abundantly aware that the movie is very much product of British film making from the late seventies. If you are particularly sensitive on such issues as identity and gender politics, as well as historically accurate depictions of cultures and societies then watching this movie may prove jarring. If however, you view it through the prism of historical context and do not try to judge it against contemporary standards, then it may be an easier experience.
On a superficial level the 2011 Conan reboot provides two hours of blood and thunder. For those who are seeking a quick fix of such material and are not burdened by a strong affiliation to Robert E. Howard’s source material, this will prove adequate. I suspect that Marcus Nispel’s offering will find a home with a younger audience. For purists or those who have fond memories of John Milius’ 1982 version, then this is not the film you are looking for. Move along. But to be honest after watching the various trailers that preceded this release and considering the directors track record, does this really come as any surprise? For those with a longer memory, cast you mind back to Nispel’s Viking versus Indian outing from 2007. Pathfinder was a high concept movie that was chronically mishandled.
Twenty-five years ago, Super Mario Bros. was released upon an unsuspecting public and subsequently met with universal critical derision and box office failure. With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight is seems incredible that this project ever got given a green light. Yet at the time, not only was it granted a generous $48 million budget, but it boasted a cast and production team of the highest pedigree. Produced by Oscar nominated director Roland Joffé, the cinematography was by Dean Semmler and the editing was by Mark Goldblatt. The central characters of Mario and Luigi where played by Bob Hoskins and John Leguizamo and the icing on the cake was Dennis Hopper as King Koopa. You simply couldn't make it up.
Tarsem Singh's Immortals follows in the wake of Zac Snyder’s 300 with a similar aesthetic and editing style. Despite an interesting cast, featuring the talents of John Hurt, Mickey Rourke and Henry Cavill, it’s a singularly uninspired film, devoid of any story telling of any substance. Immortals main selling points are glossy, stylised visuals and a striking production design which is very derivative of Italian cinema from the sixties. There are also liberal doses of violence and heaving oiled flesh to enliven the proceedings, but it is all feels somewhat arbitrary and a bit of a box ticking exercise. Overall what surprises me the most is how a film maker with all of the drama and excitement of Greek mythology at his disposal, can still make such a turgid and dull movie as this?
The early eighties saw an interesting mini boom in the sword and sorcery films. Studios have always been quick to jump on any bandwagon and the growing popularity of the Dungeons and Dragons role playing games showed a potential market. Subsequently, there was a glut of material from the fantasy genre. John Milius’ Conan the Barbarian (1982) remains the benchmark for such movies with its blend of high adventure and philosophical musing. Other films of note include John Boorman’s Excalibur (1981), Dragonslayer (1981), Legend (1985), Krull (1983) and The Beastmaster (1982) to name but a few. All of them have an interesting pedigree with regard to their respective cast and directors. As always there were numerous poor and substandard entries, but we will not catalogue them here.
After years of war, two 14th century Crusaders (Nicholas Cage and Ron Perlman) returns to a homeland devastated by the Black Plague. The church, deeming sorcery to be the source of the outbreak, tasks the knights to transport an accused witch (Claire Foy) to a remote abbey, where monks will perform a ritual in hopes of ending the pestilence. A priest, a grieving knight, a disgraced trader and an altar boy who dreams of becoming a knight, join the mission across a hostile wilderness. The group soon finds itself at odds with each other over the fate of the girl. When the embattled party finally arrives at the abbey, a horrific discovery jeopardises the knight's pledge to ensure the girl fair treatment, pitting them against an inexplicably powerful and destructive force. Will good or evil triumph?
Having recently sat through Orcs! I decided to take a further chance and watch Orc Wars. It too is a very low budget film, although this time the finances were raised through crowdfunding. Sadly, it is not the fun, tongue in cheek, independent adventure movie the trailer and associated marketing implies. There is very little merit in this production. It's cheap, cheerful and although harmless, it clearly demonstrates that not all fan funded projects are good cinema. Some are just indulgences. The problem is in the title itself, which tries to sell an idea that the movie production is incapable of delivering. Instead of the spectacle of an army of a thousand Orcs pitted against the technological might of the US war machine, we get a few extras in ill-fitting costumes, running skirmishes against no-name actors on quad bikes and a few old Army Surplus vehicles. It's all rather lacklustre and underwhelming.
As a fan of the horror genre I’ve sat through numerous low budget films in my time. This has usually been at festivals or conventions. Sometimes watching something as part of a group, with likeminded individuals, makes a difference. You find yourself groaning in unison and the shared experience helps compensate for potential deficiencies. Watching questionable material in the comfort of your own home, purely on your own can be a lot tougher. However, due to my abiding love of the genre, I am prepared to cut a lot of cheap ass indie flicks considerably more slack than I would others. So, I'll endeavour to review Orcs! with as much impartiality as possible. Oh, and before we start, let us clarify the term Orcs. Although Middle-earth is not referenced in any way, this film is definitely about Tolkien's creations. Or at least their depiction in another well-known series of films.
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.
A decade after his heroic defeat of the monstrous Kraken, Perseus-the demigod, son of Zeus, is attempting to live a quieter life. Meanwhile, a struggle for supremacy rages between the gods and the Titans. Dangerously weakened by humanity's lack of devotion, the gods are losing control of the imprisoned Titans and their ferocious leader, Kronos. Enlisting the help of the warrior Queen Andromeda, Poseidon's demigod son Argenor and fallen god Hephaestus, Perseus bravely embarks on a treacherous quest into the underworld to overthrow the Titans and save mankind. Or so Warner Bros. Pictures say in their 2012 press release for Wrath of the Titans.
When I initially heard that Clash of the Titans was to be remade, I had mixed feelings. I grew up watch Ray Harryhausen movies and have a great affection for them. However, it can be argued that the 1981 original movie has hardly Harryhausens finest work. It was saddled with an uninspired script, a wooden lead and seemed very dated compared to comparable fantasy movies at the time, such as Dragonslayer. So, I chose to give the 2010 remake the benefit of the doubt. I was even prepared to overlook the fact that the movie had been retrofitted in to 3D during post-production. A pointless embellishment. Upon my first viewing, which I saw on a big screen West End theatre, I was left with mixed feelings. I recently decided to watch Clash of the Titans again to see if there were any aspects of the film that I had overlooked. Sadly, my conclusions remained the same.
The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug Extended Edition (2013)
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring, the first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
I love the medium of film immensely. I like a wide range of genres and will happily watch weighty human dramas as well as the worst sort of trashy exploitation fodder. The key to reconciling such widely differing types of cinema is to judge them within their own context. Therefore don't compare the respective worth of Citizen Kane with The Golden Voyage of Sinbad, or Bicycle Thieves with The Medusa Touch. So because of the nature of Peter Jackson's adaptation of The Hobbit, I am prepared to make concessions to the fact that it is a big budget fantasy blockbuster franchise. Also the source material from which the film derives is quite sparse, often being nothing more than footnotes, or summations of history. Thus there is scope for a lot of "adaptation", artistic license and creativity. Jackson got a lot of this right with The Lord of the Rings trilogy, over a decade ago. I do not believe that to be the case this time round.
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring, the first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
I love the medium of film immensely. I like a wide range of genres and will happily watch weighty human dramas as well as the worst sort of trashy exploitation fodder. The key to reconciling such widely differing types of cinema is to judge them within their own context. Therefore don't compare the respective worth of Citizen Kane with The Golden Voyage of Sinbad, or Bicycle Thieves with The Medusa Touch. So because of the nature of Peter Jackson's adaptation of The Hobbit, I am prepared to make concessions to the fact that it is a big budget fantasy blockbuster franchise. Also the source material from which the film derives is quite sparse, often being nothing more than footnotes, or summations of history. Thus there is scope for a lot of "adaptation", artistic license and creativity. Jackson got a lot of this right with The Lord of the Rings trilogy, over a decade ago. I do not believe that to be the case this time round.
The Desolation of Smaug sets off at breakneck pace and continues at that speed throughout it's 186 minute running time. The extended edition is 25 minutes longer than the theatrical version. Again most of the new material is embellishments and does not significantly alter the storyline. Many of the new characters that are introduced are quite intriguing because the screenwriters have been effectively handed a blank canvas, due to the original text being so vague or simplistic (remember that Tolkien's book is a children's story). Thus we meet Beorn (Mikael Persbrandt) the skin-changer along with his Bear alter ego. This bold interpretation has him the last of his race, after being hunted for sport by the Orcs. The Elven King Thranduil, played by Lee Pace, is a greatly expanded role. He is shown as a ruler keen to secure his kingdom’s borders from the ills of the world and possibly someone who blames the Dwarves of Erebor indirectly for a family death. His riding an Elk is a wonderful visual embellishment and conceit. However, not all of the new ideas work. I found the concept of “the tombs of the ringwraiths” to be fundamentally lore breaking and foolish.
Modern film making, especially with regard to digital effects and editing afford directors far more visual freedom. As a result, the cinematography of Andrew Lesnie never remains still. He is unquestionably the master of crane and tracking shot, but it beggars the question are they always required? Would the story arc really suffer that much, if the pace slowed just for a while, to allow the viewer to digest the events that have happened so far? Tolkien certainly understood this issue of pace in his writing. Blame can also be laid at the door of editor Jabez Olssen, who constructs action scenes that are so fluid and rapidly cut together they are difficult to follow at times. And there are many such scenes in The Desolation of Smaug and they divert the story progression significantly.
After escaping the Orc, the Dwarves journey through Mirkwood only to be captured by the Elven King Thranduil (Lee Pace). Bilbo's battle with the spiders is concisely distilled. I loved the way he could understand their language when he put on the ring. Jackson excels at little embellishments like this. However, conversely his efforts to bolster the continuity with the previous trilogy can also be somewhat heavy handed. Bilbo's struggle with the allure of his newly found "precious" are far from subtle. The Dwarves' captivity and escape is deftly handled and I was even happy to go along with the introduction of Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly). I gritted my teeth and rolled with the return of Legolas (Orlando Bloom) and the contrived interaction he had with Gimli's Father, Gloin. The introduction of the Bard (Luke Evans) and the expanded role he plays within the story is quite inventive. I think it helps having him as a quasi Robin Hood figure with the Lake Town community makes him more plausible as a future leader. Stephen Fry’s cameo as the Master was indulgent but droll. The addition of Alfrid Lickspittle (Ryan Gage) as a comic foil is not so successful.
It was about two thirds into the movie that I began to feel that the narrative was becoming too ponderous and drawn out. It began to sag under the weight of its self satisfied approach. This was no longer Peter Jackson's adaptation of Tolkien’s The Hobbit, but simply Peter Jackson's The Hobbit. A lot of the “creative ideas” were not working and by the time the plot reached Smaug, I was fast losing interest. Tauriel “spiritual romance” with injured Kili (Aidan Turner) was stilted and frankly poorly written. Gandalf's excursion into Dol Guldur was melodramatic and contrived, especially the unnecessary manner that Sauron reveals himself to be the Necromancer. The idea of introducing Bolg, son of Azog as a second tier bad guy, to me just showed that the screenwriters (Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens) are tying themselves in knots with their desire to dovetail in everything and anything from a lore perspective.
Now on the subject of Smaug “the chiefest and greatest of all calamities”, I must praise all at Weta Digital for creating the most awesome and truly terrifying dragon since Vermithrax Pejorative from Dragonslayer. Benedict Cumberbatch is perfect voice casting and I was initially impressed with the scenes between him and Bilbo. They captured the spirit of the book superbly. Sadly the director’s need for yet another inexorably long action scene that wasn't in the least required, soon killed my interest. Hence we had the preposterous attempts by Thorin and company to try and kill Smaug by smothering him in molten gold. The very climax of The Desolation of Smaug, that should have been the film’s crowning glory, was for me quite the opposite. I actually found myself wishing for the final thirty minutes of the movie to end as soon as possible.
The second movie in any trilogy is always a very difficult beast to master. There is a requirement for characters to grow and evolve. In box office terms there is a need to provide not just more of the same but increase the sense of spectacle. If done well you will potentially have a movie that is better than the first. Consider The Empire Strikes Back, Spiderman 2 or Aliens. Unfortunately this cannot be said of The Desolation of Smaug. New characters are lost in a cacophony of action scenes and mayhem. Be warned this movie pushes what you can get away within the PG-13 rating. And there are too many clumsy nods to The Lord of the Rings. It seems at times like a list of essential similarities, tropes and idioms is being ticked off. With regard to Jackson’s blank cheque to expand on story points and fill in the so-called blanks, there reached a point where I thought that he had simply strayed too far from what was canonically acceptable.
Like the previous film, one of my main criticisms is based upon the portrayal of certain characters. Bilbo has precious little to do in this instalment. Furthermore the significance of actions and his personal growth is not explored sufficiently. In the book it is this part of the story where the Dwarves begin to deem him a hobbit of merit and value his contributions to their quest. This theme is conspicuously lacking in The Desolation of Smaug. Also again I protest at Jackson's interpretation of Thorin Oakenshiled. In this film he becomes borderline unlikeable. The entire approach is just too binary and formulaic. This is a character that I am supposed to revere, admire and feel for. Again, as with the previous film, those feelings are reserved for Balin instead, played by the superb Ken Stott.
Raiders of the Lost Ark and movies like it have proven that blockbusters can be populist, stylish and entertaining as well as commercially successful. The Desolation of Smaug did indeed clean up at the box office. However it is a very self indulgent piece of cinema and sadly the embodiment of style over substance. Yes, I enjoyed facets of the production and found elements to praise. However, I will not allow my affection for the original book or for Peter Jackson's previous trilogy to colour my judgement. I have to call a spade a spade and say that The Desolation of Smaug is too focused on being a spectacle, at the expense of the story and cast. The extended edition does precious little to remedy this. It is too loud and sprawling and certainly will test the casual viewer’s patience.
I recently considered whether or not I should find a new MMORPG to play. A cursory Google search showed that there were plenty of titles that I have not tried. Unfortunately, they are predominantly fantasy based games drawing upon the established tropes and themes of the dungeons and dragons genre and the wider sword and sorcery literature. This begs the question “why aren’t there more science fiction or non-fantasy based MMOs?” apart from the handful that currently exist? After a little research and a degree of thinking it becomes very apparent that the answer to this question is mainly a business decision made by publishers. Furthermore, that business decision is based upon several specific factors. All of which cumulatively tip the scales towards fantasy, rather than science fiction or some other complex but non fantasy based franchise.
I had the pleasure of seeing Solomon Kane at the Empire Leicester Square upon its initial release. I remember at the time how I found it very refreshing to see an independent horror film that treated its underlying material with the respect it deserved. The genre was somewhat in the doldrums at the time, awash with soulless remakes and endless franchise sequels, produced by cynical studios that were ultimately contemptuous of the material they utilised and the fans that watched it. Although not a literal adaptation of the series of short stories by Robert E. Howard, Solomon Kane successfully captured their spirit and broadened their scope to accommodate both the horror and fantasy genres.
“In the universe there are things man cannot hope to understand. Powers he cannot hope to possess. Forces he cannot hope to control. The Four Crowns are such things. Yet the search has begun. A soldier of fortune takes the first step. He seeks a key that will unlock the power of the Four Crowns and unleash a world where good and evil collide”. So reads the Star Wars-esque opening crawl for the 1983 3D action movie, Treasure of the Four Crowns. It’s worth noting that when it appears on screen, this text is written in capitals and devoid of any punctuation. The movie is also a Cannon Films production. These facts may give viewers an inkling of what is to come over the next 100 minutes. It is certainly best to abandon expectations of linear, narrative filmmaking. Treasure of the Four Crowns is unique, batshit crazy and yet curiously entertaining.
I recently watched the first trailer for the new Obi-Wan Kenobi television show that is premiering on Disney + in May. I am interested in this latest instalment in the Star Wars franchise and curious as to whether Liam Neeson will make an appearance. I also watched a 20 minute fan video in which they “analysed” the entire trailer. They discussed the content of this 2 minute preview and then did a great deal of speculating about potential themes and characters that may feature in the show. They were clearly enthusiastic about what they had seen and were very knowledgeable about the subject. This resonated with me, as I like to be well versed about the things I enjoy. However, it is worth remembering that fandom can tip into obsession and gatekeeping. Hence I feel there is a subject to explore here.
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring, the first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
The Battle of the Five Armies is noticeably shorter than it's two predecessors, mainly because there is insufficient narrative to sustain the proceedings. Even the extended edition which adds a further 20 minutes to the running time, increasing it to 164 minutes, is mainly driven by one ongoing action sequence which is the titular battle. After the somewhat languid pace of the first movie and the bloated excess of the second, this further change of pace seems somewhat perplexing. Despite the more economical running time, events occur very rapidly. Perhaps a little too rapidly. It can be cogently argued that it somewhat diminishes the impact of some of them. Perhaps the biggest issue being the demise of Smaug. It comes promptly at the start of The Battle of the Five Armies and although spectacular, it quickly negates a major plot element.
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring, the first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
I love the medium of film immensely. I like a wide range of genres and will happily watch weighty human dramas as well as the worst sort of trashy exploitation fodder. The key to reconciling such widely differing types of cinema is to judge them within their own context. Therefore don't compare the respective worth of Citizen Kane with The Golden Voyage of Sinbad, or Bicycle Thieves with The Medusa Touch. So because of the nature of Peter Jackson's adaptation of The Hobbit, I am prepared to make concessions to the fact that it is a big budget fantasy blockbuster franchise. Also the source material from which the film derives is quite sparse, often being nothing more than footnotes, or summations of history. Thus there is scope for a lot of "adaptation", artistic license and creativity. Jackson got a lot of this right with The Lord of the Rings trilogy, over a decade ago. I do not believe that to be the case this time round.
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring. The first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
Firstly let me start by saying I think the word unexpected is very apt in respect of the first instalment of Peter Jackson's three part adaptation of Tolkien's prequel to The Lord of the Rings. It is genuinely surprising how well parts of the narrative had been adapted and interpreted. Similarly there are other aspects that are less successful. Overall the good outweighs the bad but only the most ardent fanboy or girl would think the movie flawless. When one considers its problematic production along with the change of directors, this is quite an achievement. I wonder how much of Guillermo del Toro’s material survived into Peter Jacksons, Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens revised screenplay? Secondly, a decade on from The Lord of the Rings, there has been a further move away from physical visual effects and filming on photographic film. Both of these changes are noticeable in An Unexpected Journey but the presence of Peter Jackson and his very specific style of filmmaking maintains a very strong sense of continuity.
In December it will be the twenty year anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring. The first entry in Peter Jackson’s trilogy of film adaptations of Professor Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. I was utterly swept up in the hype and media frenzy that persisted for three years around these movies between 2001 and 2003. I certainly have fond memories of seeing each film on the first day of its release at the prestigious Leicester Square Odeon in London. Broadly speaking I was very impressed with all three films at the time of their release. However, over the years excitement and fandom has been tempered with a greater degree of critical analysis and appraisal. Having recently watched the Extended Editions of all three films, remastered in 4K, I now think it would be pertinent to revise my thoughts on them and repost them here on Contains Moderate Peril. This initial post is intended more as an overview on the trilogy. I shall write three new in depth reviews in due course.
Before I begin, let’s just take a moment to remind ourselves about the notion of historical context. Movies, like so many other aspects of popular culture, reflect the prevailing attitudes of the time they were created. The reason I mention this is because within a few minutes of watching Arabian Adventure, viewers will become abundantly aware that the movie is very much product of British film making from the late seventies. If you are particularly sensitive on such issues as identity and gender politics, as well as historically accurate depictions of cultures and societies then watching this movie may prove jarring. If however, you view it through the prism of historical context and do not try to judge it against contemporary standards, then it may be an easier experience.
On a superficial level the 2011 Conan reboot provides two hours of blood and thunder. For those who are seeking a quick fix of such material and are not burdened by a strong affiliation to Robert E. Howard’s source material, this will prove adequate. I suspect that Marcus Nispel’s offering will find a home with a younger audience. For purists or those who have fond memories of John Milius’ 1982 version, then this is not the film you are looking for. Move along. But to be honest after watching the various trailers that preceded this release and considering the directors track record, does this really come as any surprise? For those with a longer memory, cast you mind back to Nispel’s Viking versus Indian outing from 2007. Pathfinder was a high concept movie that was chronically mishandled.
Twenty-five years ago, Super Mario Bros. was released upon an unsuspecting public and subsequently met with universal critical derision and box office failure. With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight is seems incredible that this project ever got given a green light. Yet at the time, not only was it granted a generous $48 million budget, but it boasted a cast and production team of the highest pedigree. Produced by Oscar nominated director Roland Joffé, the cinematography was by Dean Semmler and the editing was by Mark Goldblatt. The central characters of Mario and Luigi where played by Bob Hoskins and John Leguizamo and the icing on the cake was Dennis Hopper as King Koopa. You simply couldn't make it up.
Tarsem Singh's Immortals follows in the wake of Zac Snyder’s 300 with a similar aesthetic and editing style. Despite an interesting cast, featuring the talents of John Hurt, Mickey Rourke and Henry Cavill, it’s a singularly uninspired film, devoid of any story telling of any substance. Immortals main selling points are glossy, stylised visuals and a striking production design which is very derivative of Italian cinema from the sixties. There are also liberal doses of violence and heaving oiled flesh to enliven the proceedings, but it is all feels somewhat arbitrary and a bit of a box ticking exercise. Overall what surprises me the most is how a film maker with all of the drama and excitement of Greek mythology at his disposal, can still make such a turgid and dull movie as this?
The early eighties saw an interesting mini boom in the sword and sorcery films. Studios have always been quick to jump on any bandwagon and the growing popularity of the Dungeons and Dragons role playing games showed a potential market. Subsequently, there was a glut of material from the fantasy genre. John Milius’ Conan the Barbarian (1982) remains the benchmark for such movies with its blend of high adventure and philosophical musing. Other films of note include John Boorman’s Excalibur (1981), Dragonslayer (1981), Legend (1985), Krull (1983) and The Beastmaster (1982) to name but a few. All of them have an interesting pedigree with regard to their respective cast and directors. As always there were numerous poor and substandard entries, but we will not catalogue them here.
After years of war, two 14th century Crusaders (Nicholas Cage and Ron Perlman) returns to a homeland devastated by the Black Plague. The church, deeming sorcery to be the source of the outbreak, tasks the knights to transport an accused witch (Claire Foy) to a remote abbey, where monks will perform a ritual in hopes of ending the pestilence. A priest, a grieving knight, a disgraced trader and an altar boy who dreams of becoming a knight, join the mission across a hostile wilderness. The group soon finds itself at odds with each other over the fate of the girl. When the embattled party finally arrives at the abbey, a horrific discovery jeopardises the knight's pledge to ensure the girl fair treatment, pitting them against an inexplicably powerful and destructive force. Will good or evil triumph?
Having recently sat through Orcs! I decided to take a further chance and watch Orc Wars. It too is a very low budget film, although this time the finances were raised through crowdfunding. Sadly, it is not the fun, tongue in cheek, independent adventure movie the trailer and associated marketing implies. There is very little merit in this production. It's cheap, cheerful and although harmless, it clearly demonstrates that not all fan funded projects are good cinema. Some are just indulgences. The problem is in the title itself, which tries to sell an idea that the movie production is incapable of delivering. Instead of the spectacle of an army of a thousand Orcs pitted against the technological might of the US war machine, we get a few extras in ill-fitting costumes, running skirmishes against no-name actors on quad bikes and a few old Army Surplus vehicles. It's all rather lacklustre and underwhelming.
As a fan of the horror genre I’ve sat through numerous low budget films in my time. This has usually been at festivals or conventions. Sometimes watching something as part of a group, with likeminded individuals, makes a difference. You find yourself groaning in unison and the shared experience helps compensate for potential deficiencies. Watching questionable material in the comfort of your own home, purely on your own can be a lot tougher. However, due to my abiding love of the genre, I am prepared to cut a lot of cheap ass indie flicks considerably more slack than I would others. So, I'll endeavour to review Orcs! with as much impartiality as possible. Oh, and before we start, let us clarify the term Orcs. Although Middle-earth is not referenced in any way, this film is definitely about Tolkien's creations. Or at least their depiction in another well-known series of films.
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.
A decade after his heroic defeat of the monstrous Kraken, Perseus-the demigod, son of Zeus, is attempting to live a quieter life. Meanwhile, a struggle for supremacy rages between the gods and the Titans. Dangerously weakened by humanity's lack of devotion, the gods are losing control of the imprisoned Titans and their ferocious leader, Kronos. Enlisting the help of the warrior Queen Andromeda, Poseidon's demigod son Argenor and fallen god Hephaestus, Perseus bravely embarks on a treacherous quest into the underworld to overthrow the Titans and save mankind. Or so Warner Bros. Pictures say in their 2012 press release for Wrath of the Titans.
When I initially heard that Clash of the Titans was to be remade, I had mixed feelings. I grew up watch Ray Harryhausen movies and have a great affection for them. However, it can be argued that the 1981 original movie has hardly Harryhausens finest work. It was saddled with an uninspired script, a wooden lead and seemed very dated compared to comparable fantasy movies at the time, such as Dragonslayer. So, I chose to give the 2010 remake the benefit of the doubt. I was even prepared to overlook the fact that the movie had been retrofitted in to 3D during post-production. A pointless embellishment. Upon my first viewing, which I saw on a big screen West End theatre, I was left with mixed feelings. I recently decided to watch Clash of the Titans again to see if there were any aspects of the film that I had overlooked. Sadly, my conclusions remained the same.
Not Every Film Needs a Sequel
Sequels are not a modern cinematic invention, nor are lucrative film franchises. Son of Kong (1933) followed King Kong (1933) within a year. Universal ran a horror movie franchise starting with Dracula in 1931 which ran until 1956, ending with The Creature Walks Among Us. However, although striking it rich at the box office has always been the focus of mainstream Hollywood filmmaking, the studio system of the so-called golden age at least was committed towards making quality cinema and films were not just about brand recognition. As well as seeking big hits the major studios were also content to produce smaller budget films that were moderately successful. However, this approach changed substantially in the late sixties and early seventies when the major film studios of Hollywood were bought by corporations. Creativity and entertainment were subsequently tempered by a business strategy that saw art as a product to be sold and marketed.
Sequels are not a modern cinematic invention, nor are lucrative film franchises. Son of Kong (1933) followed King Kong (1933) within a year. Universal ran a horror movie franchise starting with Dracula in 1931 which ran until 1956, ending with The Creature Walks Among Us. However, although striking it rich at the box office has always been the focus of mainstream Hollywood filmmaking, the studio system of the so-called golden age at least was committed towards making quality cinema and films were not just about brand recognition. As well as seeking big hits the major studios were also content to produce smaller budget films that were moderately successful. However, this approach changed substantially in the late sixties and early seventies when the major film studios of Hollywood were bought by corporations. Creativity and entertainment were subsequently tempered by a business strategy that saw art as a product to be sold and marketed.
That’s not to say that good films haven’t been made since then, just that the current ethos makes things harder. The bloated structure inherent in modern business, means that as a script or concept passes through every corporate fiefdom, where “value is added” as everyone desperately tries to justify their existence in the chain of command. At present mainstream Western filmmaking is risk averse, while seeking infinite growth. Hence franchises, brand recognition, reboots, sequels and anything other than an original idea is looked to as a source of potential box office success. Perhaps the apex of this business strategy is the Marvel Cinematic Universe. A sprawling chain of films, more akin to a product line of toys. They are well made, formulaic and entirely self serving while marketed as a fan service. They certainly are entertaining to their fans but they are also profoundly changing the way films are perceived among those who have grown up with them.
I belong to a film related Discord server. One that tries to promote a broad spectrum of films from all countries and times. There was recently a big discussion around John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982) and it was very interesting to read the thoughts and opinions of those younger viewers who were not initially familiar with it. They knew it only by its reputation as being a horror movie milestone. After a specific weekend when everyone endeavoured to watch the film, the discussion picked up anew. Some of the reactions were quite surprising. A common “complaint” was that the nature of the mutating lifeform was never clarified in any detail. IE What was it, where did it come from and what did it want. Another recurring comment was regarding the ending. “Oh you can’t leave the story there. What happened next?” or words to that effect. And then there was the furious over analysis of the most trivial of plot points. Turns out people were looking for Easter eggs. Someone even watched the credits to see if there was a post credit sequence.
Simply put, there seems to be a broad cultural difference in one’s expectations about a film, based upon one’s age group and overall exposure to film. Because episodic cinema is now an integral aspect of big franchises, I understand why some people would see this as the industry standard. Yet not every story needs a further instalment. All too often sequels that try to extend a successful standalone film into a bigger franchise, just dilute the quality of the narrative. There are a few exceptions to this rule. Mad Max 2, Aliens and Psycho II, but by and large sequels tend to just tread familiar territory and add little that is new. A good standalone film is like a snapshot of life. In our own lifetime, we may have one single event that is radically different from daily life but once it passes, we return to the safe mundanity of our daily routine. The stories in films are somewhat like this. Unless of course you’re John McClane.
If a film is conceived from its pre-production to be the first in a franchise, then it has an impact on the way the story and the character arcs develop. Some instalment will inevitably be stronger and more compelling than others. The final film in a series also has to contend with meeting audiences expectations, which is a difficult thing to do. Another pitfall associated with any franchise is whether there will even be an end to the story, due to the law of diminishing box office returns. A regular film tells a complete story or provides as previously stated, a snapshot of a fictional world. The viewer at least has the satisfaction of having seen a complete and self contained cinematic work. Consider Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai. It has a near perfect story arc which concludes in a definitive fashion. There is no need for a sequel because the film isn’t just about the characters or the deeds that they undertake. Its artistic merit resides within experiencing the film itself. Everything that there is to be gained is there already.
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 Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey Extended Edition (2012)
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring. The first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
Firstly let me start by saying I think the word unexpected is very apt in respect of the first instalment of Peter Jackson's three part adaptation of Tolkien's prequel to The Lord of the Rings. It is genuinely surprising how well parts of the narrative had been adapted and interpreted. Similarly there are other aspects that are less successful. Overall the good outweighs the bad but only the most ardent fanboy or girl would think the movie flawless. When one considers its problematic production along with the change of directors, this is quite an achievement. I wonder how much of Guillermo del Toro’s material survived into Peter Jacksons, Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens revised screenplay? Secondly, a decade on from The Lord of the Rings, there has been a further move away from physical visual effects and filming on photographic film. Both of these changes are noticeable in An Unexpected Journey but the presence of Peter Jackson and his very specific style of filmmaking maintains a very strong sense of continuity.
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring. The first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
Firstly let me start by saying I think the word unexpected is very apt in respect of the first instalment of Peter Jackson's three part adaptation of Tolkien's prequel to The Lord of the Rings. It is genuinely surprising how well parts of the narrative had been adapted and interpreted. Similarly there are other aspects that are less successful. Overall the good outweighs the bad but only the most ardent fanboy or girl would think the movie flawless. When one considers its problematic production along with the change of directors, this is quite an achievement. I wonder how much of Guillermo del Toro’s material survived into Peter Jacksons, Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens revised screenplay? Secondly, a decade on from The Lord of the Rings, there has been a further move away from physical visual effects and filming on photographic film. Both of these changes are noticeable in An Unexpected Journey but the presence of Peter Jackson and his very specific style of filmmaking maintains a very strong sense of continuity.
Many of the production staff who worked on the original trilogy are present again for The Hobbit. Artists John Howe and Alan Lee as well as cinematography by Andrew Lesnie ensure that there’s a seamless continuation of the established aesthetic of Middle-earth. Howard Shore's magnificent score utilises leitmotifs we have previously heard in The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Furthermore, his new material is very strong and introduces some very portentous themes for the new characters. The film is technically superb but one expects nothing less from this film maker. Therefore I would like to focus more upon the narrative than the production design, because The Hobbit has been greatly expanded to accommodate its trilogy format. Is the story treated appropriately and presented in a way that will please both consummate fans and newcomers alike?
Broadly speaking I’d say yes. At least in this first instalment, An Unexpected Journey. If you are a Tolkien purist then you may be disappointed or upset by some of the changes that have been made. I sympathise with this perspective but understand the fact that Peter Jackson has to make the story accessible to a wider audience and that cinema is a very different medium to the written page. The key word is “adaptation” and the fact that film requires archetypes who have clear and traditional story arcs. Therefore characters and lore are altered to provide us with a definite hero and villain. That is not to say that the script deviates radically from the book, as it does not. The nuts and bolts of the story are there. But as with The Lord of the Rings, characters have to be refined and events compressed or augmented to satisfy the required tropes of cinematic “high adventure”.
Hence we just get a far more heroic Thorin Oakenshield played by an exuberant and somewhat bombastic Richard Armitage. The character is simplified and presented as someone to root for. He is an exiled King whose family has suffered death and ruin. We also get a specific enemy to boo and hiss in the form of albino orc Azog. The role of Radagast the Brown (Sylvester McCoy) is expanded upon and acts as a conduit between the central plot and the backstory of the rise of the Necromancer in Dol Guldur. McCoy’s performance is mercurial and quite engaging. Once again Ian McKellen dominates the screen as Gandalf, a role he seems sublimely suited for. The casting of Martin Freeman as the young Bilbo Baggins is similarly perfectly conceived. He plays the hobbit with an air of curiosity and confusion, as he strays from his comfortable home in The Shire, out into the wider and more dangerous world.
However I do think that An Unexpected Journey has a pacing issue. We start with a rather traditional framing device in which old Bilbo (Ian Holm) is writing his memoirs on the eve of his going away birthday as depicted in The Fellowship of the Ring. The story then shows the fall of Dale and Erebor to the Dragon Smaug (who is teased and not fully seen). Finally after establishing the entire point of Bilbo’s forthcoming adventure to retake Erebor, events turn to a younger Bilbo (Martin Freeman) and his subsequent meeting with Gandalf. Introducing the twelve dwarves is another problematic aspect of the film. Some are granted a fair amount of screen time where others are hastily added to the narrative. The use of songs directly from the text is another embellishment that although is laudable from a lore standpoint, is questionable from a cinematic perspective. It takes a while for the movie to get under way from Bag End. It's curious because Peter Jackson has managed to take lengthy passages of text in the past and condense them quickly and efficiently without any dramatic loss. Consider the Council of Elrond in The Fellowship of the Ring.
With regard to the expansion of text, some of it works very well. I found myself pleasantly surprised by Sylvester McCoy's portrayal of Radagast (although I still think the Bunny Sled is a bridge too far) as well as the depiction of the White Council. I loved the way Gandalf rolled his eyes at the arrival of Saruman (Christopher Lee) and the way that Galadriel (Cate Blanchett) clearly holds Mithrandir in high regard. The film also greatly benefits from its mainly British and Antipodean cast. The commonalities between cultures, idioms and dialect aids the realisation of Tolkien's written work. The humour present in the film is not out of place, especially in the way that Elves and Dwarves do not get along. However, where An Unexpected Journey succeeds the best is in the way it handles the most iconic scenes from the book. Bilbo's encounter with Gollum (Andy Serkis) is truly menacing and a highlight of the film. The exchange of riddles is superbly realised and the chemistry between the two performers is palpable.
Peter Jackson has gained a reputation over the years for being able to craft complex and frenetic action scenes. It has become a selling point. Sadly my biggest criticism about An Unexpected Journey, is that there are possibly too many action scenes, with some too close together. The escape from the Great Goblin (Barry Humphries) is a very complex and extravagant set piece. Blink and you’ll miss what’s happening as Goblin limbs and heads fly left, right and centre. As soon as Bilbo and the Dwarves escape the Misty Mountains there is immediately another fiery denouement, as Thorin and company climb a copse of fir trees to avoid a Azog and a pack of wargs. Although technically well implemented it is somewhat taxing to the senses and after a while actually becomes quite dull. I appreciate the need to end the film on a high point and dramatic climax but again there persists this sense of uneven pacing. I must add that the ending is tempered by a wonderful codicil involving Smaug that is certainly a wonderful taster of things to come.
I am a Tolkien fan and also someone who enjoys quality film making. Sometimes you have to curb your enthusiasm for much beloved source material, as the requirements of film as a medium are specific and different. “Show don’t tell” is the defining mantra of cinema which can be difficult when adapting lore heavy, narrative books. There are flaws in An Unexpected Journey but they do not derail the entire story. The film is still very creative and can be exciting. It is also quite strong in content with quite hard edged action sequences. At its heart still lies director Peter Jackson's love for the Professor's work and despite moments of indulgence, this still comes across. Compromise is not always a dirty word and in this case is possibly a necessary tool in bringing this story to as wide an audience as possible. However, Jackson still makes the mistake of reducing complex and venerable characters to somewhat binary representations. Thorin is not easy to warm too and it is Balin (Ken Stott) who comes across as far more sympathetic, likeable and wise.
The extended edition of An Unexpected Journey includes 13 minutes of additional material to the theatrical release, which brings the running time to 182 minutes. The extra scenes are mainly embellishments and I would argue that they do not dramatically alter the tone and feel of the film. My thoughts are mostly the same for both the theatrical and extended edition. I suspect the uneven pacing that I’ve referenced stems from Peter Jacksons’ extrapolation of the story. The White Council scenes are a great idea but they also smack of a need to “join the dots” between this trilogy and the former. The flashback to the Battle of Azanulbizar is also well conceived as a means to give weight to the recurring theme of the misfortunes of Durin’s folk and to bolster the kingly nature of Thorin. However, the fact that Thorin is subsequently somewhat bellicose undermines this. However, Martin Freeman stands out and often compensates for the excessive action scenes. Existing Tolkien fans are probably better disposed to this new trilogy by default. However, although entertaining, there is a somewhat forced quality to this adaptation of The Hobbit. Casual viewers may well find it a little too self serving.
I recently considered whether or not I should find a new MMORPG to play. A cursory Google search showed that there were plenty of titles that I have not tried. Unfortunately, they are predominantly fantasy based games drawing upon the established tropes and themes of the dungeons and dragons genre and the wider sword and sorcery literature. This begs the question “why aren’t there more science fiction or non-fantasy based MMOs?” apart from the handful that currently exist? After a little research and a degree of thinking it becomes very apparent that the answer to this question is mainly a business decision made by publishers. Furthermore, that business decision is based upon several specific factors. All of which cumulatively tip the scales towards fantasy, rather than science fiction or some other complex but non fantasy based franchise.
I had the pleasure of seeing Solomon Kane at the Empire Leicester Square upon its initial release. I remember at the time how I found it very refreshing to see an independent horror film that treated its underlying material with the respect it deserved. The genre was somewhat in the doldrums at the time, awash with soulless remakes and endless franchise sequels, produced by cynical studios that were ultimately contemptuous of the material they utilised and the fans that watched it. Although not a literal adaptation of the series of short stories by Robert E. Howard, Solomon Kane successfully captured their spirit and broadened their scope to accommodate both the horror and fantasy genres.
“In the universe there are things man cannot hope to understand. Powers he cannot hope to possess. Forces he cannot hope to control. The Four Crowns are such things. Yet the search has begun. A soldier of fortune takes the first step. He seeks a key that will unlock the power of the Four Crowns and unleash a world where good and evil collide”. So reads the Star Wars-esque opening crawl for the 1983 3D action movie, Treasure of the Four Crowns. It’s worth noting that when it appears on screen, this text is written in capitals and devoid of any punctuation. The movie is also a Cannon Films production. These facts may give viewers an inkling of what is to come over the next 100 minutes. It is certainly best to abandon expectations of linear, narrative filmmaking. Treasure of the Four Crowns is unique, batshit crazy and yet curiously entertaining.
I recently watched the first trailer for the new Obi-Wan Kenobi television show that is premiering on Disney + in May. I am interested in this latest instalment in the Star Wars franchise and curious as to whether Liam Neeson will make an appearance. I also watched a 20 minute fan video in which they “analysed” the entire trailer. They discussed the content of this 2 minute preview and then did a great deal of speculating about potential themes and characters that may feature in the show. They were clearly enthusiastic about what they had seen and were very knowledgeable about the subject. This resonated with me, as I like to be well versed about the things I enjoy. However, it is worth remembering that fandom can tip into obsession and gatekeeping. Hence I feel there is a subject to explore here.
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring, the first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
The Battle of the Five Armies is noticeably shorter than it's two predecessors, mainly because there is insufficient narrative to sustain the proceedings. Even the extended edition which adds a further 20 minutes to the running time, increasing it to 164 minutes, is mainly driven by one ongoing action sequence which is the titular battle. After the somewhat languid pace of the first movie and the bloated excess of the second, this further change of pace seems somewhat perplexing. Despite the more economical running time, events occur very rapidly. Perhaps a little too rapidly. It can be cogently argued that it somewhat diminishes the impact of some of them. Perhaps the biggest issue being the demise of Smaug. It comes promptly at the start of The Battle of the Five Armies and although spectacular, it quickly negates a major plot element.
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring, the first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
I love the medium of film immensely. I like a wide range of genres and will happily watch weighty human dramas as well as the worst sort of trashy exploitation fodder. The key to reconciling such widely differing types of cinema is to judge them within their own context. Therefore don't compare the respective worth of Citizen Kane with The Golden Voyage of Sinbad, or Bicycle Thieves with The Medusa Touch. So because of the nature of Peter Jackson's adaptation of The Hobbit, I am prepared to make concessions to the fact that it is a big budget fantasy blockbuster franchise. Also the source material from which the film derives is quite sparse, often being nothing more than footnotes, or summations of history. Thus there is scope for a lot of "adaptation", artistic license and creativity. Jackson got a lot of this right with The Lord of the Rings trilogy, over a decade ago. I do not believe that to be the case this time round.
This December marks the 20th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring. The first instalment of Peter Jacksons' adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. To celebrate this occasion, I shall post new reviews of the extended edition of all three films, as well as those of The Hobbit trilogy, which were made a decade later.
Firstly let me start by saying I think the word unexpected is very apt in respect of the first instalment of Peter Jackson's three part adaptation of Tolkien's prequel to The Lord of the Rings. It is genuinely surprising how well parts of the narrative had been adapted and interpreted. Similarly there are other aspects that are less successful. Overall the good outweighs the bad but only the most ardent fanboy or girl would think the movie flawless. When one considers its problematic production along with the change of directors, this is quite an achievement. I wonder how much of Guillermo del Toro’s material survived into Peter Jacksons, Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens revised screenplay? Secondly, a decade on from The Lord of the Rings, there has been a further move away from physical visual effects and filming on photographic film. Both of these changes are noticeable in An Unexpected Journey but the presence of Peter Jackson and his very specific style of filmmaking maintains a very strong sense of continuity.
In December it will be the twenty year anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring. The first entry in Peter Jackson’s trilogy of film adaptations of Professor Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. I was utterly swept up in the hype and media frenzy that persisted for three years around these movies between 2001 and 2003. I certainly have fond memories of seeing each film on the first day of its release at the prestigious Leicester Square Odeon in London. Broadly speaking I was very impressed with all three films at the time of their release. However, over the years excitement and fandom has been tempered with a greater degree of critical analysis and appraisal. Having recently watched the Extended Editions of all three films, remastered in 4K, I now think it would be pertinent to revise my thoughts on them and repost them here on Contains Moderate Peril. This initial post is intended more as an overview on the trilogy. I shall write three new in depth reviews in due course.
Before I begin, let’s just take a moment to remind ourselves about the notion of historical context. Movies, like so many other aspects of popular culture, reflect the prevailing attitudes of the time they were created. The reason I mention this is because within a few minutes of watching Arabian Adventure, viewers will become abundantly aware that the movie is very much product of British film making from the late seventies. If you are particularly sensitive on such issues as identity and gender politics, as well as historically accurate depictions of cultures and societies then watching this movie may prove jarring. If however, you view it through the prism of historical context and do not try to judge it against contemporary standards, then it may be an easier experience.
On a superficial level the 2011 Conan reboot provides two hours of blood and thunder. For those who are seeking a quick fix of such material and are not burdened by a strong affiliation to Robert E. Howard’s source material, this will prove adequate. I suspect that Marcus Nispel’s offering will find a home with a younger audience. For purists or those who have fond memories of John Milius’ 1982 version, then this is not the film you are looking for. Move along. But to be honest after watching the various trailers that preceded this release and considering the directors track record, does this really come as any surprise? For those with a longer memory, cast you mind back to Nispel’s Viking versus Indian outing from 2007. Pathfinder was a high concept movie that was chronically mishandled.
Twenty-five years ago, Super Mario Bros. was released upon an unsuspecting public and subsequently met with universal critical derision and box office failure. With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight is seems incredible that this project ever got given a green light. Yet at the time, not only was it granted a generous $48 million budget, but it boasted a cast and production team of the highest pedigree. Produced by Oscar nominated director Roland Joffé, the cinematography was by Dean Semmler and the editing was by Mark Goldblatt. The central characters of Mario and Luigi where played by Bob Hoskins and John Leguizamo and the icing on the cake was Dennis Hopper as King Koopa. You simply couldn't make it up.
Tarsem Singh's Immortals follows in the wake of Zac Snyder’s 300 with a similar aesthetic and editing style. Despite an interesting cast, featuring the talents of John Hurt, Mickey Rourke and Henry Cavill, it’s a singularly uninspired film, devoid of any story telling of any substance. Immortals main selling points are glossy, stylised visuals and a striking production design which is very derivative of Italian cinema from the sixties. There are also liberal doses of violence and heaving oiled flesh to enliven the proceedings, but it is all feels somewhat arbitrary and a bit of a box ticking exercise. Overall what surprises me the most is how a film maker with all of the drama and excitement of Greek mythology at his disposal, can still make such a turgid and dull movie as this?
The early eighties saw an interesting mini boom in the sword and sorcery films. Studios have always been quick to jump on any bandwagon and the growing popularity of the Dungeons and Dragons role playing games showed a potential market. Subsequently, there was a glut of material from the fantasy genre. John Milius’ Conan the Barbarian (1982) remains the benchmark for such movies with its blend of high adventure and philosophical musing. Other films of note include John Boorman’s Excalibur (1981), Dragonslayer (1981), Legend (1985), Krull (1983) and The Beastmaster (1982) to name but a few. All of them have an interesting pedigree with regard to their respective cast and directors. As always there were numerous poor and substandard entries, but we will not catalogue them here.
After years of war, two 14th century Crusaders (Nicholas Cage and Ron Perlman) returns to a homeland devastated by the Black Plague. The church, deeming sorcery to be the source of the outbreak, tasks the knights to transport an accused witch (Claire Foy) to a remote abbey, where monks will perform a ritual in hopes of ending the pestilence. A priest, a grieving knight, a disgraced trader and an altar boy who dreams of becoming a knight, join the mission across a hostile wilderness. The group soon finds itself at odds with each other over the fate of the girl. When the embattled party finally arrives at the abbey, a horrific discovery jeopardises the knight's pledge to ensure the girl fair treatment, pitting them against an inexplicably powerful and destructive force. Will good or evil triumph?
Having recently sat through Orcs! I decided to take a further chance and watch Orc Wars. It too is a very low budget film, although this time the finances were raised through crowdfunding. Sadly, it is not the fun, tongue in cheek, independent adventure movie the trailer and associated marketing implies. There is very little merit in this production. It's cheap, cheerful and although harmless, it clearly demonstrates that not all fan funded projects are good cinema. Some are just indulgences. The problem is in the title itself, which tries to sell an idea that the movie production is incapable of delivering. Instead of the spectacle of an army of a thousand Orcs pitted against the technological might of the US war machine, we get a few extras in ill-fitting costumes, running skirmishes against no-name actors on quad bikes and a few old Army Surplus vehicles. It's all rather lacklustre and underwhelming.
As a fan of the horror genre I’ve sat through numerous low budget films in my time. This has usually been at festivals or conventions. Sometimes watching something as part of a group, with likeminded individuals, makes a difference. You find yourself groaning in unison and the shared experience helps compensate for potential deficiencies. Watching questionable material in the comfort of your own home, purely on your own can be a lot tougher. However, due to my abiding love of the genre, I am prepared to cut a lot of cheap ass indie flicks considerably more slack than I would others. So, I'll endeavour to review Orcs! with as much impartiality as possible. Oh, and before we start, let us clarify the term Orcs. Although Middle-earth is not referenced in any way, this film is definitely about Tolkien's creations. Or at least their depiction in another well-known series of films.
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.
A decade after his heroic defeat of the monstrous Kraken, Perseus-the demigod, son of Zeus, is attempting to live a quieter life. Meanwhile, a struggle for supremacy rages between the gods and the Titans. Dangerously weakened by humanity's lack of devotion, the gods are losing control of the imprisoned Titans and their ferocious leader, Kronos. Enlisting the help of the warrior Queen Andromeda, Poseidon's demigod son Argenor and fallen god Hephaestus, Perseus bravely embarks on a treacherous quest into the underworld to overthrow the Titans and save mankind. Or so Warner Bros. Pictures say in their 2012 press release for Wrath of the Titans.
When I initially heard that Clash of the Titans was to be remade, I had mixed feelings. I grew up watch Ray Harryhausen movies and have a great affection for them. However, it can be argued that the 1981 original movie has hardly Harryhausens finest work. It was saddled with an uninspired script, a wooden lead and seemed very dated compared to comparable fantasy movies at the time, such as Dragonslayer. So, I chose to give the 2010 remake the benefit of the doubt. I was even prepared to overlook the fact that the movie had been retrofitted in to 3D during post-production. A pointless embellishment. Upon my first viewing, which I saw on a big screen West End theatre, I was left with mixed feelings. I recently decided to watch Clash of the Titans again to see if there were any aspects of the film that I had overlooked. Sadly, my conclusions remained the same.
JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass (2021)
I am not a fan of conspiracy theories, nor those who are heavily invested in them. There are many reasons to repudiate such ideas but for me the main one is just a simple observation on human nature. Any major conspiracy, plot or cover up requires large swaths of people to participate and remain quiet about the facts. Yet one of the most common attributes of the human condition is peoples total inability to shut up. Simply put, most conspiracy theories don’t hold water because someone would have blabbed. Hence, documentaries about how the moon landings were faked or how 9/11 was an “inside job” tend not to “butter any parsnips” with me. However, JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass is a surprisingly different beast. I was surprised by its measured approach and its inferred conclusion. Has old age mellowed the filmmaker Oliver Stone?
I am not a fan of conspiracy theories, nor those who are heavily invested in them. There are many reasons to repudiate such ideas but for me the main one is just a simple observation on human nature. Any major conspiracy, plot or cover up requires large swaths of people to participate and remain quiet about the facts. Yet one of the most common attributes of the human condition is peoples total inability to shut up. Simply put, most conspiracy theories don’t hold water because someone would have blabbed. Hence, documentaries about how the moon landings were faked or how 9/11 was an “inside job” tend not to “butter any parsnips” with me. However, JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass is a surprisingly different beast. I was surprised by its measured approach and its inferred conclusion. Has old age mellowed the filmmaker Oliver Stone?
The assassination of John F. Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States, in 1963 was a landmark event. The murder of a serving president is no small beer and it has left a deep scar on the psyche of America. Especially in light of JFK’s policy of domestic reform and diplomatic engagement with the nation’s supposed “enemies”. Almost immediately after the tragic events it became apparent that there were inconsistencies in the evidence gathered from the subsequent investigation. These have never really gone away or been satisfactorily explained, so it was inevitable that legitimate reservations by both the press and the public would eventually lead to conspiracy theories concerning the true nature of the shooting. Then in 1991, filmmaker Oliver Stone explored the subject in-depth with his drama JFK.
Thirty years later, the director and writer returns to the subject with the documentary JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass. Due to a great deal of information now being formally declassified by the US government and available for public scrutiny, new information has come to light that seems to indicate a specific culprit. It would appear that a great deal of evidence was amassed by the Warren Commission which investigated the assassination and anything that didn’t support the clear narrative of “a lone gunman, working alone” was simply kept out of the final report. It is this information that is scrutinised and presented in this two hour documentary. The first part, narrated by Whoopi Goldberg, focuses on the new evidence. The second part, narrated by Donal Sutherland, explores the potential motives of the suspected party.
As for the finger of blame, it points squarely at the CIA. Furthermore, it does so in the most unsensational manner. By the time JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass reaches its conclusion, the evidence seems to be tediously plausible. There are no hyperbolic theories about secret organisations or complex plots financed by foreign powers to shoot the president. Just a rather credible assertion that the head of the CIA and a few hawkish senior members of the military didn’t like Kennedy’s policies or political leanings. The fact that he wanted to curtail US involvement in Vietnam was seen as unacceptable, unpatriotic and very bad for the economy. Hence the documentary implies that existing CIA assets were used and that Lee Harvey Oswald was specifically chosen because he could be conveniently disavowed and presented as a crank, as he was approaching the end of his operational use.
JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass does get a little over excited at times. The documentary does seem in a hurry to supply fact after fact for the viewer’s edification. A pause in the narrative from time to time would help audiences digest what they are being presented. Regardless of the pace this documentary is never dull, nor does it adopt the strident tone that those who immerse themselves in conspiracy theories often do. Even if you don’t agree with the manner in which the new evidence is interpreted, JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass most definitely shows that the overall 1963/4 investigation was flawed and therefore questionable. And because many politicians, journalists and writers have been sceptical for so long, the overall “conclusion” seems very plausible because it is not in any way unreasonable or extreme. Oliver Stone is also right that the debacle over JFK still has an impact on US politics today. He claims that Trump is a symptom of the ongoing fallout.
Music by John Williams is a documentary celebration of the famous composer and his illustrious body of work. It provides some interesting biographical background information as to how the man was born into a family of talented musicians. It then traces his rise from pianist for hire to the most well known film composer today. Along the way, anyone who is anyone in film and music appears to heap justifiable praise upon him and his body of work. It also features a continuous medley of John Williams’ greatest hits, as it catalogues his work in broadly chronological order. Music by John Williams is an upbeat and positive love letter to the composer and exactly what you would expect, when you consider that the documentary was produced by his friends and peers.
Despite being an analysis of the past there is a portentous air about Ken Burns and Lynn Novick’s Prohibition. A fascinating five-and-a-half-hour documentary produced for PBS in 2011. The history of this disastrous experiment, the banning of alcoholic beverages, is a textbook example of how the transactional nature of US politics can be effectively used upon “wedge” issues. Prohibition follows the format and style of Burns previous documentaries such as the Civil War (1990) and The War (2007) with the wider subject broken down and analysed according to protagonists, events and the political background. Specific historical figures and key players are followed throughout the documentary’s narrative, giving viewers a sense of focus. Hence we meet the hatchet-wielding Carrie Nation, Wayne Wheeler from the Anti-Saloon League and media savvy gangsters like Al Capone. It is interesting to note that some themes continue from Burns’ previous work, such as the political and cultural conflict between native-born Americans and European immigrants. The rural heartlands versus the big cities.
Joel Allen Schroeder's documentary Dear Mr. Watterson is a curious beast insofar that it takes some time before it decides exactly what it wants to focus upon. It begins by examining the cultural impact of the hugely popular comic strip “Calvin & Hobbes” and what it means to people around the world. However, little information is given about the creator, Bill Watterson beyond a very simple biography. Joel Allen Schroeder’s also makes no attempt to contact and interview the reclusive Mr. Watterson to find out more about the man and his iconic work. Instead, the documentary eventually settles into an assessment of Watterson’s work by other industry luminaries and a broader accounting of the overall decline of the newspaper cartoon as a social institution. The presentation is bright, stylish and there’s a lot of love for the subject but it takes some time before it commits to a specific approach.
“Kurt Vonnegut: Unstuck in Time” is a sprawling, non-linear eulogy to the to the life of writer Kurt Vonnegut, by Emmy-winning director Robert B. Weide (“Curb Your Enthusiasm”), who was a friend of Vonnegut's throughout the last 25 years of his life. Weide himself features heavily throughout the two hour running time, which is something Weide says he usually hates in documentaries. However, what unfolds is a story of a documentary maker who wanted to film his idol and was granted an opportunity to do so in the early eighties. The project was never completed and both Weide and Vonnegut continuously returned to it over the years as their friendship grew, leading to Weide eventually becoming Vonnegut’s personal archivist. However, despite this curious relationship, this is still very much a film about Kurt Vonnegut, the author, the social commentator and the man. It becomes quite clear why he is considered one of the most important writers of the 20th century.
Benjamin Franklin is in many ways the most interesting of the American Founding Fathers. A self taught man who went on to become a polymath. An inventor, accomplished writer and publisher. A diplomat who successfully held multiple public offices. A loyalist who went on to become a “reluctant revolutionary”. A slave owner who eventually became an abolitionist. A questionable parent who favoured specific children over others, as well as a negligent husband. Franklin was all these things, as Ken Burns’ documentary takes great pains to highlight. A broad cross section of historians tackle these foibles and contradictions from multiple perspectives. As Joseph J. Ellis states, Benjamin Franklin was “a Nobel-calibre scientist, the greatest prose stylist of his generation, and probably the greatest diplomat in American history”. His legacy is chronologically analysed over four hours in two distinct episodes.
Giuseppe Tornatore’s sprawling documentary Ennio, is a finely detailed and absorbing exploration of prolific and iconic Italian composer Ennio Morricone. Despite its very traditional approach to its subject matter, looking at Morricone’s career chronologically, intercut with celebrity talking heads, it still manages to convey the unorthodox, innovative and experimental nature of the composer. The 156 minute running time is not necessarily the impediment that one expects. Rather it is the sheer weight of the emotional impact that comes from Morricone’s music that is at times overwhelming. Archival footage and a new and comprehensive interview recorded just prior to the composer’s death in 2020 is intercut with a wealth of audio cues and concert footage from a broad cross section of his work. The result is most illuminating with regard to the man and his approach to composing. The conclusion backed by many of those interviewed is that Ennio Morricone has shaped the nature of film music and elevated it to an artform.
Gerry Anderson: A Life Uncharted is a documentary that focuses specifically on the man, rather than the shows that he created. If you are more interested in the latter then you would be better off watching Filmed in Supermarionation (2014), which provides a comprehensive overview of all productions, wrapped in a cosy blanket of nostalgia and fandom. Gerry Anderson: A Life Uncharted offers a more challenging viewing experience due to its honesty and candour. Gerry Anderson had a difficult childhood and suffered a bereavement early in life. During the course of this 88 minute exploration of his life it becomes clear that these traumas both drove his creativity as well as marred his own personal life. Furthermore, this documentary is also about a son looking for answers, as Jamie Anderson attempts to learn more about his father’s past.
Star Trek documentaries are very much like Bruce Lee documentaries, in so far as they’re both a saturated market and more often than not, new content frequently ends up covering the same ground. However, fans tend to watch anything new in the hope that they will find a few new nuggets of information. Brian Volk-Weiss’ new 11 part series, The Center Seat: 55 years of Star Trek, not only covers established facts about the iconic show but also expands upon them as well as providing a wealth of new information. Volk-Weiss has previously explored popular culture with documentaries such as The Toys That Made Us and The Movies That Made Us. The Center Seat: 55 years of Star Trek is an in-depth chronological study of the Star Trek franchise, from its creation at Desilu Productions in 1965 all the way through to the latest iterations, Star Trek: Picard and Star Trek: Discovery.
Shatner in Space is a 45 minute documentary about the 90 year old actor, William Shatner and his recent foray into space via Jeff Bezos’ Blue Origin sub-orbital spaceflight service. Considering the provenance of this entire undertaking, attitudes in general towards billionaires and the obvious publicity seeking hubris of sending a cultural icon into space, it’s easy to dismiss Shatner in Space as nothing more than a very, very expensive infomercial. However, the quiet dignity of Mr Shatner whose age and experience means that he draws a very different conclusion from his space flight than his fellow passengers, is utterly compelling and possibly a little profound. If you can endure the soulless polish of the scenes with an immaculately staged managed Jeff Bezos, then you’ll be rewarded with the philosophical musings of a man approaching the end of his life who is naturally curious about his own mortality.
I am not a fan of conspiracy theories, nor those who are heavily invested in them. There are many reasons to repudiate such ideas but for me the main one is just a simple observation on human nature. Any major conspiracy, plot or cover up requires large swaths of people to participate and remain quiet about the facts. Yet one of the most common attributes of the human condition is peoples total inability to shut up. Simply put, most conspiracy theories don’t hold water because someone would have blabbed. Hence, documentaries about how the moon landings were faked or how 9/11 was an “inside job” tend not to “butter any parsnips” with me. However, JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass is a surprisingly different beast. I was surprised by its measured approach and its inferred conclusion. Has old age mellowed the filmmaker Oliver Stone?
Television programmes that deal with the so-called supernatural, mysterious and the unexplained are commonplace these days. They fill the schedules of channels that used to broadcast quality wildlife, historical and scientific documentaries. All too often these shows focus on the sensational nature of their subject matter and lack any real objectivity, analysis and scientific rigour. The idea is not to impartially explore a subject to determine its veracity but to simply provide a degree of spectacle for as broad a viewing demographic as possible. However, that was not always the case. Back in 1980, Yorkshire Television produced Arthur C. Clarke's Mysterious World. A high profile exploration thirteen-part British television series looking at unexplained phenomena from around the world. The presence of Clarke, who introduced and book-ended the various subjects the show explored, brought a degree of impartiality and credibility to the proceedings.
Over the years I have seen many documentaries about World War II. Although I do not claim in any way to be an expert, I believe I have a good grasp on the causes and the course of that six year conflict. However, it recently struck me that I could not say the same about World War I. In my youth I watched a repeat showing of the BBC documentary series The Great War (1964) but I remember very little of its prodigious 26 episodes. The one thing that stood out were the interviews with veterans. So I was very pleased when perusing BritBox over the weekend to find the 2003 documentary The First World War, based upon the book of the same name by Professor Hew Strachan. This ten part analysis takes a global view of the conflict, rather than excessively focusing upon the Western Front and also debunks a lot of the apocryphal ideas and notions that have persisted over the years. I found it so compelling that I binged watched the entire thing over two evenings.
The music business is a strange, interesting and broad church. A spectrum of musical styles and personalities all fulfilling the needs of different markets. There are pop stars who are buoyant but ephemeral. Then there are singer/songwriters who take their work seriously as they express their critique of the human condition via their music. There are also style icons, novelty acts, indie bands, lounge crooners and a myriad of other niche acts, all doing their own thing. And occasionally there are enigmas. Artists and bands that fly in the face of prevailing trends and commercial interest, who do consider their work to be an artistic endeavour and an expression of themselves and as such, do not see the virtue of personal compromise or corporate interests. Esoteric musicians who reinvent themselves continuously as they grow and age. Constantly defying the expectations of both their own fans and naysayers. Sparks are such a musical entity and the subject of a fascinating documentary by director Edgar Wright.
Carl Sagan's seminal science documentary Cosmos: A Personal Voyage was initially broadcast in the US between 28th September and 21st December 1980. Six months later it was shown in the UK on BBC One throughout the summer of 1981. I was thirteen years old at the time and this science documentary series had a tremendous impact upon not only me but an entire generation. The complexity of some of the subjects explored and discussed by Carl Sagan often left me perplexed. However, I knew that there was something special about this show and the way it presented science in such a personal manner. Therefore, I found myself going to both my local and school library to further read about the topics raised in each episode. But perhaps the most standout aspect of the show was Sagan himself. His commentary delivered directly to the camera was both enthralling and lyrical. His love and enthusiasm was palpable and clearly bled through into every aspect of the show. His ability to communicate clearly, complex and at times esoteric ideas, was a revelation and in many ways a gift. Similar to that of Jacob Bronowski and David Attenborough.
There was a time when film making was seen as an artistic endeavour and the idea of the auteur director pursuing a vision was considered a romantic and even noble undertaking. Big multi-million-dollar productions were welcomed when they filmed on location, providing work and glamour to the local population. The might of the dollar would often grease the wheels of industry, making the impossible possible. Egos were massaged, and actors were indulged and treated like minor deities. Huge sets would appear in the middle of nowhere, like Victorian follies and luxury items would be flown around the world to placate the capricious nature of the various Hollywood stars. Money would flow like water, much to the dismay of the producers, sitting back in the offices in the US or Europe. But this era has now past. Big budget movies are still made but it is now driven by corporate accounting and artistic vision is no longer a primary consideration. It is now a rather soulless business process. Hence a movie such as Apocalypse Now would never be made today in the same manner that it was back in 1976 when the production started.
MR James: Ghost Writer is a sixty-minute documentary written and presented by Mark Gatiss, exploring the life of Britain's foremost ghost story writer. Gatiss, a long-time admirer of James, delves in to the life of the author from his devout Anglican upbringing and close-knit family life, through to his ascent to the summit of academia at King's college, Cambridge. The program seeks to discover what motivated this scholarly bachelor to create some of the most iconic and chilling ghost stories in English literature. By following in James’s footsteps, the documentary attempts to gain a greater insight in to the enigmatic author.
Wisconsin Death Trip is a strange, enigmatic, non-linear docudrama and that makes for compelling viewing for the open minded. It is based upon the 1973 non-fiction book Wisconsin Death Trip by Michael Lesy, which explores a collection of late 19th century photographs by Jackson County, photographer Charles Van Schaick. These are mainly taken in the city of Black River Falls. The authentic black and white pictures are further embellished by local news reports from the same period, predominantly taken from the Black River Falls newspaper. These articles emphasise the harsh aspects of Midwestern rural life under the pressures of crime, disease, mental illness, and urbanization. The book has been a source of influence over the years, with authors such as Stephen King and Rod Jones citing the impact its had upon their respective work. Film maker James Marsh has subsequently taken this curious microcosm of rural life and death and extrapolated it a compelling reflection upon mortality and the fragility of human existence.
Dean Haglund is best known for playing Richard Langly, one of the Lone Gunmen on The X-Files. In recent years has capitalised upon that role and has become closely identified with the realm of the paranormal and the world of conspiracy theories. The documentary The Truth Is Out There follows Dean as he travels the US and attempts to discover just what it means to search for the truth in a world where conspiracies theories, untruths and fake news abound. The documentary directed by Phil Leirness, humorously takes the viewer on a journey of discovery, talking to those who believe that the world is not what it seems.
Once again Jamie Benning has created a filmumentary that is pretty much a definitive exploration of its subject matter. Inside Jaws contains a staggering amount of facts, details, insight and commentary about one of the greatest films ever made. Yet despite a wealth of information, it is presented in a way that is easily digestible and enhances the movie, rather than overwhelms it. As with Star Wars Begins, the original movie is annotated with on-screen text, commentary tracks and behind the scenes footage, which provide incisive overview into the movies production.
Star Wars Begins is a detailed documentary by film maker Jamie Benning that explores the creation of what is now considered to be the most iconic movie of the seventies; namely Star Wars. It features a wealth of deleted scenes, alternate takes, behind-the-scenes footage, bloopers, original on set audio recordings and a great deal of commentary by the original cast and crew. As far as I’m concerned, it is the most thorough and in-depth analysis of Star Wars I have yet to see. Frankly it beats hands down, any of the officially sanctioned documentaries that have appeared over the year on the various DVD and Blu-ray releases of the trilogy.
Indie Game: The Movie is a genuinely fascinating documentary not only about the machinations video games industry but also the blood, sweat and tears that go into any creative process. It is a film that really does give you pause for thought and encourages you to reflect upon what you may want in life. It clearly shows the true cost and the star reality of any labour of love. It should be required viewing in schools and colleges for any wannabe who dreams of being on a reality shows and achieving a fast path to their perceived heart’s desire. Such is the impact of the documentary’s message.
Despite having played a broad spectrum of games in my time, I've never really had much dealings with the Blizzard. Beyond owning Overwatch, a game I’ve long stopped playing and trying a free trial of both World of Warcraft and Hearthstone, I have little personal experience of their games. However, I am fully aware of their product range and their reputation within the gaming industry. Overwatch has taught me how well-conceived and polished their games can be. Blizzard may not be incredibly innovative, but they learn from others and produce titles with all the elements that work well. Sadly, I have no real affinity to their flagship MMORPG, as my point of entry with that genre was LOTRO. My interest in World of Warcraft mainly stems from a business perspective and the place it holds in gaming history. Overall my curiosity about the game, its community and culture is mainly academic. So, I finally got around to watching the documentary World of Warcraft: Looking for Group that showcased at Blizzcon in 2014 and was subsequently released on You Tube thereafter.
Certain groups just lend themselves to ridicule from the media and in popular culture in general, irrespective of whether they deserve it or not. Star Wars fans are a prime example of this. Their love of the lore, predilection for cosplay and hunger for collectables at first glance makes them an easy target. Film maker Mark Edlitz, takes a decidedly different approach in his documentary Jedi Junkies. Instead of finger-pointing and making cheap jokes, Jedi Junkies puts a very human face on a group of enthusiasts, showing their passion to be in essence, no different to that of sports fans or other more mainstream hobbies and pastimes.
After watching several hours of the documentary, The Vietnam War, one has to wonder at the utter inability of the US government of the time, to think outside the box during the period of that conflict. Seldom does a military, political, and social analysis of an historical event go this deep. During its eighteen hour running time directors Ken Burns and Lynn Novick cover a wealth of issues associated with this conflict, exploring it from multiple perspectives. Not only do they shine a light upon the hubris and folly of both respective governments, they manage to keep a very intimate and human perspective. Personal stories from both sides are told and if there is a common theme, it is sadly one of tragedy and regret.
Considering the mainstream popularity of gaming, there is a distinct lack of related content on television. Journalist, writer and social commentator Charlie Brooker attempted to address this in 2009 with Gameswipe but the show remained a one-off production. Then again in late 2013, he had another crack at the subject with the documentary How Videogames Changed the World, providing a broad overview on the genre, exploring key events and titles from the past forty years. As ever with Mr. Brooker, the commentary was intelligent and acerbic. There was also an interesting and diverse selection of talking heads who spoke from personal experience, rather than the usual scripted garrulous inanities.
Constance Marks’ documentary explores the story of Kevin Clash, the man who effectively "was" Seasame Street's Elmo until 2014. The film charts Kevin Clash's rise from his modest beginnings in Baltimore to his success as a globally famous character and a major player in the Henson family of puppeteers. The documentary manages to maintain a good balance between examining the mechanics of puppetry and focusing on the human impact of Kevin's work. Like so many documentaries of these type, it clearly shows that achieving your dreams always comes with a cost and is often immensely arduous. It also reveals the complexity of something we take for granted and possibly trivialise, namely puppetry. Filmed in 2011 the documentary does not cover Kevin Clash’s resignation from “Seasame Workshop” three years later.
Documentaries about the fans and fandom often lack any impartiality and frequently have their own agenda, be it positive or negative. Looking at the names associated with Comic-Con Episode IV: A Fan's Hope, it’s fairly clear from the outset that this is not going to be an overtly critical undertaking. Director Morgan Spurlock follows five attendees during San Diego Comic-Con 2010 as they endeavour to fulfil their ambitions. The fans are immediately presented in a fairly positive way and as the documentary proceeds the viewer gets the opportunity to form their own opinion about the lifestyles, choices and philosophies. The documentary is also interspersed with talking heads from known genre luminaries such a Joss Wheedon, Kevin Smith and Stan Lee, who provide some interesting and quite frank views on Comic-Con as well as the wider fan scene.
The documentary Mifune: The Last Samurai is both an exploration and celebration of the Japanese actor Toshiro Mifune (1920-1997), narrated by Keanu Reeves. Over the course of seventy minutes his life and body of work is critiqued by his industry peers as well as several cinematic luminaries such as Martin Scorsese and Steven Speilberg. The focus is very much upon the man himself, as his personality was integral to his acting technique. For those unfamiliar with classic Japanese cinema during its golden age, the documentary provides a broad and practical overview. It also includes a brief history of the chanbara (sword fighting) genre, as well as a concise and honest analysis of Mifune’s career.
Classic Movie Themes: Halloween
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.
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.
John Carpenter wanted a unique sound for Halloween despite the production’s modest budget. When composing the main theme he used the uncommon 5/4 time beat for a bongo drum and transferred that to piano, which resulted in the iconic melody. This uncommon sound works extremely well, clearly establishing a mood and tone that suits the film. Yet it also holds up well as a standalone piece of music. When used in the film, it is a practical audio cue to alert the audience to the presence of The Shape and potential onscreen danger. Yet the piece does not diminish in power, despite its repetition.The staccato piano rhythm with additional synthesizer chords combine to produce an evocative and infinitely flexible cue. It creates a palpable atmosphere for the film and its antagonist, yet it isn’t weighed down by excessive musical complexity.
30 years later and Halloween (2018) has proved to be a very interesting belated sequel. It features a new score by Carpenter, alongside his son, Cody Carpenter and godson Daniel Davies. The soundtrack revises the main theme and classic elements from the original as well as adding several new tracks. There is a broader use of contemporary synthesizers this time, as well as some interesting experimentation with guitar sounds. They add a real edge to a score which proves to be anything but an exercise in nostalgia. There is one cue that encapsulates the best elements of both the old and the new. The Shape Hunts Allyson. Featuring tremulous keyboards and punctuated witty grinding guitars and synths it captures an onscreen chase superbly. A variation of this cue was subsequently used at the climax of Halloween Kills (2021) and again is superbly effective in its powerful simplicity.
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.
Finch (2021)
On paper Finch has little originality. The moment I read the plot synopsis and saw the first trailer I instantly thought of other such films as Silent Running, Short Circuit and Chappie. However, irrespective of its derivative concept and the fact it channels many of the major tropes of the genre, it does have three cards to play. Namely strong performances by Tom Hanks, Caleb Landry Jones and canine actor Seamus. Although not a genre milestone, Finch is a curiously pleasant post apocalyptic road movie. Despite travelling through the sun bleached vistas of a ravaged America, the story focuses on the three protagonists and their relationship. It is no small feat to find genuine sentiment in such a harsh environment and indeed in such a genre but Finch proves to be an engaging emotional journey. Once again the most effective explorations of the human condition are often through characters who are conspicuously not.
On paper Finch has little originality. The moment I read the plot synopsis and saw the first trailer I instantly thought of other such films as Silent Running, Short Circuit and Chappie. However, irrespective of its derivative concept and the fact it channels many of the major tropes of the genre, it does have three cards to play. Namely strong performances by Tom Hanks, Caleb Landry Jones and canine actor Seamus. Although not a genre milestone, Finch is a curiously pleasant post apocalyptic road movie. Despite travelling through the sun bleached vistas of a ravaged America, the story focuses on the three protagonists and their relationship. It is no small feat to find genuine sentiment in such a harsh environment and indeed in such a genre but Finch proves to be an engaging emotional journey. Once again the most effective explorations of the human condition are often through characters who are conspicuously not.
After a solar flare has destroyed the ozone layer, the planet Earth is a largely-uninhabitable wasteland scorched by ultraviolet radiation and subject to extreme weather events. Robotics engineer Finch Weinberg (Tom Hanks), lives with his dog Goodyear and a drone-robot Dewey in an underground laboratory in St. Louis. Whenever he ventures outside to search for supplies he is forced to wear an environment suit. Dying of radiation sickness, Finch builds an advanced humanoid robot to take care of his dog Goodyear once he dies. When a massive storm approaches St. Louis and threatens their safety, Finch, Jeff (as the robot name’s itself) Goodyear and Dewey head for San Francisco in a campervan. Due to their hasty departure, Jeff has only assimilated 72 percent of the data uploaded to him, leaving him with the mental capacity of a child. Despite his deteriorating health, Finch tries to teach Jeff about life and how to protect Goodyear. He also emphasises the dangers of the world that they live in.
Finch has solid production values and presents a credible vision of a world blighted by climate change. The CGI FX are at times understated, focusing on extreme weather and sun baked environments. Jo Willems cinematography and is both sweeping when dealing with the landscape and intimate when focusing on Finch and Jeff’s relationship. The screenplay by Craig Luck and Ivor Powell alludes to numerous big ideas and themes and is intelligent in subtle ways. The storm that drives Finch and his companions from his home is scheduled to last 40 days; a suitably biblical period of time. Yet despite the scope of the setting, Finch is content to think small in so far as characters and motivation. This is a story of a man with his own Father issues, struggling to become one himself. At the heart of the film is the perennial notion that when we come close to losing our own humanity, we find it again from the most unlikely sources. Performances are spot on and Hanks manages to smooth out some of the screenplays rough edges by the sheer weight of his on screen personality .
Some critics have focused upon what they see is a lack of jeopardy in the story. The fundamentals of survival are not focused upon as an ongoing problem. Food, water and power are not used to incur a sense of threat for the sake of the plot. The one encounter with humans is kept remote and we never directly see them. We hear their movement and finally they manifest themselves as the drivers of a car pursuing Finch. The film prefers to dwell on Finch’s fear of his fellow man, rather than the direct danger of his pursuers. The only time we get a wider understanding of man’s inhumanity to man is during a flashback sequence and that is mitigated to a degree by the idea that people do terrible things when hungry. What I believe that some reviews have overlooked is the fact that Jeff and Goodyear will be left alone when Finch dies and that is the central narrative source of concern.
I have no problems with sentiment in films if it is handled well. Too often it is not and US cinema has a penchant for mawkish, contrived, button pushing pathos rather than the more difficult, organically generated type. Fortunately director Miguel Sapochnik manages to avoid such pitfalls and when emotions come to a head, they are sincere and heartwarming. It makes a change to see the depiction of an artificial lifeform as an eager and curious child, as opposed to a psychotic killer or minor deity sent to save us. Overall, Finch is quite a satisfying post apocalyptic adventure, driven by characters and performances, rather than action and spectacle. Although it draws upon many familiar ideas, it still manages to provide an entertaining two hours and ends on a suitably upbeat note. It may also serve as a suitable starting point for viewers seeking similar genre offerings.
Star Trek is slightly older than me by 14 months. I was born on December 18th 1967. Star Trek was first broadcast in the US on 8th September 1966. Hence this show has always been part of the prevailing pop culture that surrounded me, as I grew up. I first began watching Star Trek as a young child in the early seventies. It would be repeated on the BBC in the early evening on Fridays and it became a family ritual to sit down together and watch it. As a seven or eight year old, it left a great impression upon me and was in many ways, the television highlight of the week. Star Trek along with Doctor Who certainly started my interest in science fiction. Star Trek was also one of the first shows that introduced me to tie-in marketing. I remember seeing in a toy shop, near to my school at the time, a Dinky Klingon Battle Cruiser and was flabbergasted that such a thing existed. I immediately coveted it but sadly never obtained one.
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.
Treasure Island In Outer Space is a curious Italian television production from 1987 starring Anthony Quinn and Ernest Borgnine. It also features numerous international actors better known for their work in cult and exploitation films, such as Bobby Rhodes, David Warbeck and John Morghan. Directed by Antonio Margheriti (AKA Anthony Dawson), famous for such films as Killer Fish (a cash in on Piranha) and The Last Hunter (a Vietnam exploitation epic), Treasure Island In Outer Space is a faithful adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel. The screenplay by Renato Castellani and Lucio De Caro draws heavily from the source text, maintaining character names and original dialogue. However in updating the material to a futuristic setting, the script is littered with the worst kind of eighties sci-fi clichés. We are subjected to sonic trains, anti-gravity rays and the usual buzzword driven faux science.
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.
The seventies was an interesting time for UK genre television. Despite small budgets and often low key visual effects, there was no shortage of good ideas and creativity. Sapphire & Steel is a prime example of a show couched in a high concept, produced on a shoestring. It also credits its audiences with some degree of intelligence. Rather than spoon feeding the narrative in a didactic manner, it hints and implies, then leaves the rest to its viewers imagination. Created by Peter J. Hammond, a veteran TV writer, Sapphire & Steel centres on a pair of interdimensional operatives named Sapphire and Steel. They are two of a number of elements that assume human form. Over the course of three seasons little is revealed about the pair but they appear whenever there is any anomalous temporal activity. Time itself is portrayed as a sentient and malignant force that seeks to make incursions into the present reality, through weaknesses in the fabric of space.
The Humanoid is one of many international Star Wars knock-offs that flooded cinemas in the late seventies and early eighties. Like so many others, it is derivative (even to the extent of replicating specific scenes from George Lucas’ movie), replete with awful dialogue and has somewhat basic production values. However, it does have an interesting cast including Richard Kiel, Barbara Bach, Arthur Kennedy and Corinne Cléry. Kiel gained a lot of media attention after his appearance as the steel-toothed villain Jaws in the 1977 Bond film, The Spy Who Loved Me. His stature made him the perfect fit for the titular character in this Italian science fiction production. Sadly, beyond a curious lineup of actors, The Humanoid has little to distinguish it from so many similar movies. For example, if you’ve seen Starcrash then you’ll be adequately prepared for this film.
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.
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.
I recently watched the first trailer for the new Obi-Wan Kenobi television show that is premiering on Disney + in May. I am interested in this latest instalment in the Star Wars franchise and curious as to whether Liam Neeson will make an appearance. I also watched a 20 minute fan video in which they “analysed” the entire trailer. They discussed the content of this 2 minute preview and then did a great deal of speculating about potential themes and characters that may feature in the show. They were clearly enthusiastic about what they had seen and were very knowledgeable about the subject. This resonated with me, as I like to be well versed about the things I enjoy. However, it is worth remembering that fandom can tip into obsession and gatekeeping. Hence I feel there is a subject to explore here.
On paper Finch has little originality. The moment I read the plot synopsis and saw the first trailer I instantly thought of other such films as Silent Running, Short Circuit and Chappie. However, irrespective of its derivative concept and the fact it channels many of the major tropes of the genre, it does have three cards to play. Namely strong performances by Tom Hanks, Caleb Landry Jones and canine actor Seamus. Although not a genre milestone, Finch is a curiously pleasant post apocalyptic road movie. Despite travelling through the sun bleached vistas of a ravaged America, the story focuses on the three protagonists and their relationship. It is no small feat to find genuine sentiment in such a harsh environment and indeed in such a genre but Finch proves to be an engaging emotional journey. Once again the most effective explorations of the human condition are often through characters who are conspicuously not.
I wanted to watch Source Code for a second time before I wrote about it. This is because numerous internet debates have arisen regarding the plausibility of the film’s ending. I find this a somewhat curious stance considering that the story, written by Ben Ripley, deals with temporal travel and multiple timelines. All of which are purely theoretical and not currently subject to singular, definitive interpretations. I would further add that the science of the film is simply a plot device and is not its raison d'être. But that’s movies for you. People love to discuss them and more recently we have seen the rise of “explanation” videos on YouTube. However, the latter is a separate debate and something I may write about in the future. As for Source Code, I enjoyed it even more the second time round, as I had the time to focus on the minor details rather than trying to stay abreast with the main plot, as I did on my first viewing.
I revisited M Night Shyamalan's The Happening recently to try and determine whether he is indeed suffering from Orson Welles syndrome. IE that he has made all his best work at the beginning of his career. Because he’s never quite recaptured the critical or artistic success of The Sixth Sense, Unbreakable and Signs. I was one of the few that actually liked The Lady in The water but I could see why viewers would assume that he had become a victim of his own style and technique with that particular movie. Casting yourself as an author whose work will reshape society and change the course of history is at the very least, a little egotistical and at worst an act of immense hubris. Then in recent years we have had The Last Airbender and After Earth, both of which have performed poorly. However I thought I'd give The Happening another chance as it remains the directors only R rated movie to date.
I wrote an article back in 2009 as to why I felt a remake of The Thing was a bad idea. At that time, the project was in development hell and didn’t look like getting off the ground. Subsequently, the production evolved into a prequel and managed to find financial support, culminating in a theatrical release in late 2011. Like many interested parties, I watched the initial teaser trailer with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. Then when the red band trailer arrived I felt that the shark was well and truly jumped. Too much was shown (a common problem with modern trailers) and there the internet was awash with discontented mutterings from John Carpenter purists. Hence I refrained from watching this movie for several years. When I finally got round to doing so, I was not well disposed towards it. However, over the Christmas holidays, I decide to give this prequel a second viewing and see if I could approach it with a less partisan mindset.
Cloverfield (2008) was a surprise hit, earning $172 million worldwide at the box office against a $25 million budget. Paramount Pictures naturally wanted a sequel but director Matt Reeves and writer Drew Goddard struggled to find a suitable narrative means to progress the original story. Both eventually left the project and the production descended into development hell. The subsequent success of Godzilla and Pacific Rim saw the Kaiju genre becoming oversaturated and so the decision to make a direct sequel was re-evaluated. Eventually a “speculative screenplay” called The Cellar was purchased and repurposed to include some additional science fiction elements and became 10 Cloverfield Lane. Despite being a curious genre hybrid which only tenuously links to the original movie, this too fared well at the box office. Therefore it was inevitable that a third movie in the so-called “Cloververse” would follow.
In many ways the story behind The McPherson Tape is a lot more interesting than the film itself. This early found footage movie from 1989, was shot on home video on a virtually non-existent budget. The director Dean Alioto eventually found a distributor but on the eve of the movie’s home video release, the warehouse burned down and allegedly destroyed the master tape and all the promotional artwork. Yet this was not the end of the story. It was common practice in the eighties for small distributors to send advance copies to local independent video stores. Hence The McPherson Tape found its way into the pirate video ecosystem. It then migrated to the UFO community where it was circulated as being a video of a legitimate alien abduction. Dean found himself in the unusual position of having to debunk his own work. Three decades later due to the intriguing tale associated with The McPherson Tape, it has been remastered from the newly rediscovered 3/4" tape and re-released.
Last month, I tried a 30 day free trial of the streaming service BritBox. One of the main selling points was that the platform has an extensive back catalogue of Classic Doctor Who. Although I initially tried to keep up with the reboot of the franchise in 2005 my interest waned after several seasons. I am not opposed to any of the changes made and I am very pleased that the show has found a new audience. However, it doesn’t resonate with me so much anymore and I find that there is too much human drama for my liking. So I decided to revisit my youth and watch some classic Doctor Who; episodes that I haven’t seen in over forty years (yes, I’m that old). Now I’m fully aware of the potential issues that can come from returning to things that you enjoyed in one’s youth, so I believe I did my best in managing my expectations. However, the results of my nostalgia trip were interesting. The things I thought would be a problem nowadays weren’t so and the things I expected to hold up well despite the passage of time, didn’t always succeed. It’s been a curious experience.
I was 12 years old when I first saw Battle Beyond the Stars during its UK theatrical release. I remember that I enjoyed it and thought it was an action packed movie. Being young, lacking the critical faculties that come with age and exposure to a wider variety of cinematic material, a lot of the films plus points were lost on me. I recollect that I did pick up on the fact that this film was more ghoulish than the other “Space Operas” that flooded theatres at the time. But beyond that, all I saw was a fun and enjoyable science fiction movie. I cheered when the Malmori were defeated and was saddened when Space Cowboy died. It is only after subsequent viewing over the years, that I’ve realised that this film is a microcosm of all the things that made Roger Corman productions so successful and unique. Despite its low budget, the visual effects were good and innovative for the times. There was more sex and violence present, than in comparable productions. And the crew is a veritable who’s who of talent that went on to wider success.
Contrary to the endorsement on the above poster, Riddick was not "the most entertaining action movie of the year" in 2013. It was just an adequate third instalment in a rather ambitious franchise, that has failed to grab the wider public's attention. That’s not to say that they didn’t make money. This is after all the third movie. Writer and Director David Twohy has done his best to try and make the character of Riddick (Vin Diesel) more than the sum of his parts and I admire both of them for their persistence. Unfortunately, Riddick just isn't engaging or complicated enough a protagonist to sustain a franchise of this nature. The anti-hero was sufficient to drive the original Pitch Black back in 2000 which had some good ideas but just couldn't sustain the overarching and overblown Chronicles of Riddick in 2004. This instalment is competently made but ultimately superfluous.
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.
In the near future, a series of mysterious power surges strike the Solar System, endangering all human life. Astronaut Major Roy McBride, is selected by U.S. Space Command (SpaceCom) to investigate their source near Neptune. The surges are linked to the "Lima Project", a failed experiment from 26 years earlier, that was intended to search for intelligent life outside of our solar system. The ship’s antimatter drive is potentially malfunctioning and responsible for the energy surges. Roy’s investigation is further complicated by the fact his Father H. Clifford McBride (Tommy Lee Jones), led the "Lima Project" and has not been heard from for 16 years after reaching Neptune. Having been told that Clifford may still be alive, Roy is joined by his father's old associate Colonel Pruitt (Donald Sutherland) whose loyalties remain ambiguous. Roy, who is noted for remaining calm under pressure, shows little emotional reaction to the news about his Father. As he and Pruitt travel covertly from Earth, to the moon and then onto Mars, it becomes clear that there is more to the mission than meets the eye. Will Roy remain emotionally detached or will old wounds impair his judgement?
I was very surprised when I saw a trailer for a fourth instalment on the MiB franchise, based on Lowell Cunningham’s 1990 comic book series about secret government agents battling alien infiltration of earth. The third movie from 2012 managed to keep its head above water despite a very troubled production. At the time of its release, I like everyone else, pretty much thought that the series had run its course. Yet we live in the age of belated sequels as well as hard and soft reboots. And although Will Smith’s star may well be waning, Chris Hemsworth is still box office gold. Hence, we saw the release of Men in Black: International this summer. The basic concept of the franchise remains the same but this time the action begins in the London Office and then takes a more international journey with such locations as Marrakesh and Naples. Emma Thompson returns as Agent O and Liam Neeson joins the cast as agent High T.
The original Men in Black movie hit our screens back in 1997. It was a box office success and was therefore followed by a mediocre sequel in 2002. It took a decade before we got a third instalment in the franchise. However, the popularity of the two lead actors contributed greatly to the success of this series and so despite well documented production problems Men in Black III was released in 2012. However, the delay between movies did have consequences. Will Smith, despite being an Oscar winner and box office star, had lost his way during this time and was not as popular with audiences. Men in Black III was a timely opportunity to reconnect with his core fans. So to ensure that the film hit all the required beats and stand a better chance of being a success, the Columbia Pictures brought back previous director Barry Sonnenfeld, in hopes of warding off the Hollywood curse of third movie instalments.
Fellow blogger and all round good guy Murf, posted an ode to Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure today. It is clearly a movie that he enjoys (Go read his review). He references how due to this movie (along with others), as well as being a decent person in real life, that actor Keanu Reeves enjoys a great deal of goodwill from fans and pop culture cognoscenti. Which is a good thing for Mr Reeves, because goodwill often means that folk are prepared to overlook past transgressions and misdemeanours. And in cinematic terms, Keanu has had a few. The Day the Earth Stood Still is definitely one of them. Now I’ve questioned before the wisdom and merits of writing a predominantly negative film review and believe me my thoughts on The Day the Earth Stood Still are most definitely so. However, I think that something positive can still be gained from scrutinising this film. It can be held up as a textbook example of how not to remake a classic.
Every now and then, a mainstream film studio employs an artisan director to helm some sort of experimental or vanity project. The studio executives often have very little understanding of the film maker or their body of work, beyond that their artistically respected by their peers. Hence there is the corporate hope that the resulting production will be both critically acclaimed and financially successful. However, what all too often happens is that the said director goes off and indulges themselves, or simply does what they’re hired to do and delivers a finished picture that is beyond the intellectual horizons of the studio. Sphincter’s subsequently tighten among executives; the director is denied final cut and the film is taken a way and re-edited in the hope of rendering it more commercially viable. In the worse cases, a second director is brought onboard and new material shot in the hope of “saving” the picture. The net result is usually acrimony among all involved parties and a film that fails to make its money back at the box office.
For anyone with a passing interest in literary science fiction, Arthur C. Clarke’s Childhood’s End is a seminal novel and considered an essential read. The story of humanity being shepherded into a utopian golden age by allegedly benevolent alien Overlords and the consequences it has upon society, was a radical departure from prevailing science fiction norms of the time. Over the years several film makers have expressed interest in adapting the story, but it has proven difficult to come to grips with. Stanley Kubrick initially wished to develop the novel but his subsequent collaboration with the author eventually lead to the making of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Since then there have been radio adaptations and audiobook versions, all of which seem to be a better medium for this episodic and contemplative tale. In late 2015 US cable and satellite channel Syfy broadcast a three-part miniseries based upon the 1953 story; something that past me by at the time. I recently caught up with this adaptation which seems to have provoked very mixed reactions among viewers. As ever, the controversy seems to stem from purists who favour a more slavish interpretation of the book.
I always cringe when I hear the phrase re-imagining. It's yet another contrived expression created by marketing bodies to justify the somewhat arbitrary process of remaking an established title. Often the re-imagined product has little to do with the source material and was chosen simply because of brand awareness. If you want a textbook example of a recent example of this somewhat cynical process then look no further than last year’s Death Wish reboot. It had nothing new to say on the subject and simply trotted out a generic and bland revenge thriller. So, when I discovered that Robert Wise's classic science fiction film, The Andromeda Strain had been remade as a TV miniseries (that had completely passed me by), I had great reservations as to whether this would be worth watching. However, the involvement of Tony and Ridley Scott piqued my interest, so I decided to take a calculated risk and give this 2008 A&E Network production a go.
Time is quite literally money in the movie In Time, starring Amanda Seyfried and Justin Timberlake. Written and directed by Andrew Niccol, who previously wrote Gattaca and S1m0ne which both had similar dystopian themes, we are presented with a chilling scenario. What if you had to spend minutes or hours or perhaps days of your life in the same way you spend money? The movie offers a future where the population is genetically programmed to stop aging at twenty-five. If you're rich enough, you can purchase and trade this commodity, adding time to your life, making you effectively immortal. For the poor, the future is a far bleaker with most dying within a year of this hardcoded end date. Every transaction comes with a price in minutes and seconds.
Many years ago, I use to rush home from school to watch Project UFO. Based loosely on the real-life Project Blue Book, this show from 1978 featured two U.S. Air Force investigators, Maj. Jake Gatlin (William Jordan) and Staff Sgt. Harry Fitz (Caskey Swaim) and their subsequent investigation into alleged UFO sightings. Sometimes there would be rational explanations and on other occasions, there was clearly extraterrestrial involvement. By the second season out protagonists experienced a close encounter of their own. It wasn’t the most densely plotted of dramas and was produced and presented in the idiom of mainstream television of the time. However, for a ten-year-old boy it had some excellent miniature work (Brick Price Movie Miniatures) and anything about UFOs was always a source of interest. There was also a great and very seventies theme tune by Nelson Riddle. So when I discovered that History (formerly The History Channel) had produced a science fiction drama series called Project Blue Book, I became somewhat nostalgic and equally intrigued.
Broadening Your Cinematic Horizons
I haven’t been to the cinema since December 2019 when I saw the last Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker. Increasing ticket prices, along with the pandemic have kept me away. But perhaps the biggest contributory factor to my ongoing cinematic abstinence has been just a lack of interesting films being released. My local multiplex has become a platform for mainly big cinematic franchises. Compared to the seventies and eighties, there is considerably less choice regarding the types of films being shown. I am not saying that a broad variety of films are no longer being made, because that is not the case. What has changed is the medium by which we view them. Human dramas, art house films, comedies and many other genres that don’t command major box office taking are no longer being shown theatrically and are finding a home elsewhere.
I haven’t been to the cinema since December 2019 when I saw the last Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker. Increasing ticket prices, along with the pandemic have kept me away. But perhaps the biggest contributory factor to my ongoing cinematic abstinence has been just a lack of interesting films being released. My local multiplex has become a platform for mainly big cinematic franchises. Compared to the seventies and eighties, there is considerably less choice regarding the types of films being shown. I am not saying that a broad variety of films are no longer being made, because that is not the case. What has changed is the medium by which we view them. Human dramas, art house films, comedies and many other genres that don’t command major box office taking are no longer being shown theatrically and are finding a home elsewhere.
This change in the way consumers access “content” has already happened within both the TV and music industries. Previously, a broad, centralised market which meant a common exposure to a variety of material has now shifted to niche platforms, channels and stations. The perennial business mantra of “greater choice” has led to audiences finding what they like but at the cost of being aware of any other kind of material. With regard to cinema such changes also have consequences. The segregation of content to specific platforms means that at the very least you’re limiting your choice to big cinematic franchises and tentpole releases. However, at worst, it leads to a form of cinematic ignorance which then contributes to a decline in the art of filmmaking. Hollywood is not known for taking risks. Until superhero movies stop making them money, that is what they’re going to continue to produce.
I count myself fortunate, as I was raised during the seventies and the three major UK TV channels used to regularly show old movies and by that I mean material from the early thirties to the late sixties. It would often take several years for major cinematic releases to get their first broadcast on analog, terrestrial television. In the eighties, video rental subsequently bridged the gap affording an opportunity to watch more recent material within the home. Hence I had a great deal of exposure to a very broad range of films. In an age where there were no video games or internet, often I would watch something with my parents out of default of anything else to do. Yet like watching “Top of the Pops”, the UKs premier music show at the time, I was presented with a wide variety of genres. As a result, I became accustomed to differing acting styles that evolved over the years as well as the pace of editing.
Two other factors secured my love of film and made it more than just a casual pastime for me. The first was joining the film club at school. I was again very fortunate to go to a senior school that focused not only on academia but the arts as well. One chemistry teacher had an abiding love of cinema and used to show fairly recent films. Afterwards there would be a discussion about the plot and the techniques used. It was a most illuminating experience. The second was joining the British Film Institute and attending screenings of classic films at the National Film Theatre on the London Southbank. It was here that I saw such giants of cinema as Ray Harryhausen and Vic Armstrong. Enjoying such events with an audience of like minded people is also a key factor and something I’ll discuss further in this post. Cinema is not a lone experience. Much of its enjoyment comes from the group experience and then discussing things afterwards.
As someone who enjoys cinema and all manner of films, I like to encourage those who are similarly disposed towards the medium to broaden their cinematic horizons. This is not driven by elitist snobbery but more of a sense of “why miss out on so much good stuff”? For example, if you like cheese why just limit yourself to cheddar? If such a philosophy seems reasonable to you and you would like to become more experimental in your viewing habits, here are a few suggestions that may help you achieve that endeavour.
Do not put arbitrary limits upon what you will or won’t watch. That’s not to say that you should throw caution to the wind. Still exercise some sense of choice but temper it. If you like contemporary horror, then why not try one from the nineties or an earlier period? Take measured steps, rather than jump into the deep end but do step outside of your usual comfort zone.
Context is king. Film reflects the prevailing social views and conventions of the time. Culture has changed greatly over the last 100 hundred years. Therefore, modern audiences will often be confronted with opinions and ideologies that are very different to what they are now. Hence it helps greatly to cultivate a sense of detachment when watching older films. You can enjoy or at least appreciate the artistry of a film such as Gone With the Wind, without endorsing its dated racial representations and social philosophies. Film in many ways are invaluable historical documents (not as in Galaxy Quest, though) and a window on the past.
Watching a film as part of a group can radically change the overall viewing experience. Charlie Chaplin viewed alone can seem very dated, repetitive and even unfunny. But watching the same material with friends or as part of a wider audience can change the dynamic. Horror and comedy produce discernable emotions and we pick up on that both consciously and subconsciously. You may well find Chaplin far more approachable in such an environment. With this in mind, join a film club. Alternatively, watch a live stream and participate in a shared experience that way. Talk and discuss both before and after watching a film (but never during).
Seek out informed people on social media. Learning about the provenance of a classic film or finding out about its troubled production history can really add to your enjoyment. It also helps to become familiar with the basics of filmmaking. If you understand the essentials of editing, framing shots, script writing, narrative arcs and styles of acting, it allows you to appreciate why some films are either venerated or reviled.
Eschew film snobbery. Cinema can be high art, mainstream entertainment and exploitative trash. It is perfectly feasible to be able to like and find merit in all of these manifestations. Also, don’t feel obliged to slavishly join the prevailing consensus of so-called “classics”. Don’t be deliberately contrary but if you don’t feel especially moved by a much loved film, then that’s fine. Just remember that the reverse is true. People are allowed to dislike the films you hold dear. Judge films on their own merit and within an appropriate context. Don’t make the mistake of comparing apples with oranges. One can admire Citizen Kane as well as enjoy the fun inherent in Treasure of the Four Crowns but to directly hold one up against the other is illogical.
If possible, find streaming platforms or TV channels that curate content that suits your needs. If you’re based in the UK then I wholeheartedly recommend Talking Pictures TV. It shows a wealth of old, obscure and even cult material. We also have the benefit of living in an age where most content can be watched in high definition. Seek out broadcasts and streams that show films in their correct aspect ratio, preferably without adverts and on screen graphics. However, don’t miss an opportunity to see something just because it’s not presented in an optimal fashion.
Finally, a love of film is like many other hobbies; inherently social. Talk about what you’ve watched and enjoyed. Write a blog, make videos on YouTube, or just chat on Twitter. Word of mouth and recommendations from friends can lead you to discover some real hidden gems (and a few turkeys). Don’t be afraid to experiment. If something doesn’t grab your attention then stop watching and try something else. Watching a film isn’t a legally binding contract in which once started, you’re compelled to continue to the end. As I said previously, why limit yourself. There are so many good films out there, from all over the world, covering every aspect of the human condition.
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.
Contemporary viewer’s may be perplexed by a film such as A Man For All Seasons. Why make a two our motion picture about a Tudor lawyer, statesman and scholar and their subsequent moral objection to the reigning monarchs marital status? Yet, during the sixties, it was entirely possible for a mainstream studio to produce a film based upon a stage play that dramatised such specific historical events. Furthermore, a film like this that relied upon strong performances and an intelligent script (and little more) could find a mainstream audience and be both a critical and commercial success. Nowadays, such productions still exist but they are now mainly the province of streaming services. Furthermore, the cinematic format has been replaced by that of a high budget TV show, which explores the topic at hand over an eight to ten hour running time.
Set in Brazil in 1901, plantation owner Christopher Leiningen (Charlton Heston) makes arrangements to get married. He has spent his entire life building his estate and reclaiming land from the jungle. He is fiercely independent but he is also alone and isolated. Joanna Selby (Eleanor Parker) from New Orleans agrees to marry him but their first meeting does not go well. Leiningen is unhappy to discover that Joanna is a widow and hence has a past, so he tells her to return to America on the next available boat. However, local commissioner (William Conrad) informs Leiningen that swarming soldier ants, or Marabunta, are moving towards his plantation destroying everything in their path. Leiningen refuses to abandon his life’s work and is surprised when Joanna decides to stay with him. Can they convince their native workers to stay too and can they defend the estate from the Marabunta, described as “forty square miles of agonising death”.
Millionaire businessman Thomas Crown (Steve McQueen) arranges for four men to steal $2,660,527.62 from a Boston bank. The men, who have never met before or seen Crown, successfully carry out the robbery. A fifth man then transports the stolen money and dumps it in a cemetery trash can. Crown retrieves the money, flies to Geneva and deposits it in a Swiss bank account. Eddy Malone (Paul Burke), the Boston police detective in charge of the case makes no progress until the bank’s insurance company assigns him one of their top investigators, Vicki Anderson (Faye Dunaway). Anderson thinks like a thief and works based upon her instincts. Looking through the evidence, she deduces that Crown is the culprit, potentially committing crimes just for amusement. Anderson subsequently meets Crown socially. Despite the situation and their respective positions, they are immediately attracted to each other and begin a relationship.
Writing a review of Apocalypse Now is a somewhat redundant exercise, unless you have never seen the any of the previous versions of the movie, or your analysis is offering a unique and wholly original perspective. It is one of the most scrutinised, dissected and studied films in the history of cinema. Furthermore, the stories associated with the films tumultuous production have become as equally legendary as the movie itself. There is as much apocrypha associated with Apocalypse Now as there are legitimate anecdotes. In many respects the documentary Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker's Apocalypse, which was shot during the films production, is equally as fascinating as the iconic movie. So with all this in mind, I will simply try to succinctly summarise my thoughts on this third version of Francis Ford Coppola’s magnum opus, which has been officially labelled “Final Cut” by the director.
When I first saw Throne of Blood as a teenager I was ill in bed with a fever. I found the brooding atmosphere and the use of fog, very hypnotic and was never quite sure if this ethereal quality was down to my state of health or the way the film had been crafted. Subsequent viewings have established that the dream like aspect of the film is indeed due to the creative talents of it's great director. Akira Kurosawa remains the best-known Japanese director to Western audiences, while other luminaries, such as Mikio Naruse, Yasujiro Ozu and Kenji Mizoguchi, are known mainly to aficionados and scholars of cinema. Kurosawa’s work maintains a critical consensus, although he was at one point rejected in his native country for being too entrenched in obsolete traditions and themes. On a technical level his film making credentials remain unparalleled and in many ways, Throne of Blood is a text book example of his style and technique.
In a recent blog post I wrote about the difficulty that you can encounter sometimes when trying to watch movies that have been deemed “classic” by popular consensus. I listed 10 films of note that I intend to watch this year and to see if my views aligned with the various institutions and critics that praise them. The first on that list was the iconic sixties thriller Bullitt starring Steve McQueen. Having now watched the movie, I thought it would be prudent to collate my thoughts on it. Considering the immense amount of material that has already been written about it, I see no reason to present a review per se. Rather, here are my initial impressions for consideration. I’ve tried to highlight some specific aspects of the film that I think are of note or merit debate.
Let us take a moment to consider those movie lists you often come across on websites and in magazines. Why? Because there’s a lot of them about. You know the sort, one hundred movies that you must see before you go senile, according to some well-known critic or august institution like the BFI. Or if you prefer something more hip and eclectic then here’s another one collated by British filmmaker Edgar Wright. Furthermore, these lists are often somewhat homogeneous, containing a mixture of bonafide yet ubiquitous classics, a percentage of obscure arty-farty bollocks and a few wild cards that they put in for a laugh. These will be either so-called cult movies or examples from the “it’s so bad, it’s good” school of film making.
"2001: A Space Odyssey. Stanley Kubrick’s philosophically ambitious, technically innovative and visually stunning cinematic milestone". BFI November 2014.
You will often find this sort of language associated with Kubrick's work, especially 2001: A Space Odyssey. It is considered by many to be his finest production and one of the greatest science fiction feature films ever made. In fact 2001: A Space Odyssey has become one of those cinematic sacred cows that regularly features in most film buffs top ten movies of all time. It's a curious thing because a little research will show that critical opinion was split right down the middle on its release in spring 1968. It is only over the course of the last five decades that the movie has grown in artistic stature and garnered the acclaim it now enjoys.
Following the 2012 restored release of The Curse of Frankenstein, Hammer, Icon Film Distribution and Lionsgate jointly produced a Blu-ray restoration of another British classic. This time it was the 1958 version of Dracula directed by Terence Fisher. This is one of Hammer's finest films and not only gets a superb High Definition transfer but also sees the restoration of two lost scenes. Dracula literally re-invented the horror genre and the depiction of vampires in film. It also established the studio as a key player within the industry and made international stars of Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. This new restoration finally does justice to the source material presenting it as it deserves to be seen.
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.
Revisiting Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings
In December it will be the twenty year anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring. The first entry in Peter Jackson’s trilogy of film adaptations of Professor Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. I was utterly swept up in the hype and media frenzy that persisted for three years around these movies between 2001 and 2003. I certainly have fond memories of seeing each film on the first day of its release at the prestigious Leicester Square Odeon in London. Broadly speaking I was very impressed with all three films at the time of their release. However, over the years excitement and fandom has been tempered with a greater degree of critical analysis and appraisal. Having recently watched the Extended Editions of all three films, remastered in 4K, I now think it would be pertinent to revise my thoughts on them and repost them here on Contains Moderate Peril. This initial post is intended more as an overview on the trilogy. I shall write three new in depth reviews in due course.
In December it will be the twenty year anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring. The first entry in Peter Jackson’s trilogy of film adaptations of Professor Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. I was utterly swept up in the hype and media frenzy that persisted for three years around these movies between 2001 and 2003. I certainly have fond memories of seeing each film on the first day of its release at the prestigious Leicester Square Odeon in London. Broadly speaking I was very impressed with all three films at the time of their release. However, over the years excitement and fandom has been tempered with a greater degree of critical analysis and appraisal. Having recently watched the Extended Editions of all three films, remastered in 4K, I now think it would be pertinent to revise my thoughts on them and repost them here on Contains Moderate Peril. This initial post is intended more as an overview on the trilogy. I shall write three new in depth reviews in due course.
One of the most striking aspects of Peter Jackson’s films is the overall production design and the aesthetics of Middle-earth in the Third Age. Fans had already started becoming accustomed to a common visual approach to Tolkien’s work, care of John Howe and Alan Lee, the artists that publisher Harper Collins had been using for several years prior to 1999 when filming started. Inviting both to be artistic designers on the films provided a sense not only of continuity but also of a formal aesthetic across the entire intellectual property. Both artists have a knack for combining real world historical elements, with fantasy creating styles of armour, weapons, architecture and clothing that looks real and credible. There is incredible attention to detail present in every element of the production, just as there is in Tolkien’s source text.
In a similar vein, filming in New Zealand was a wise decision as it provides such a diversity of environment and ecosystems. It really is ideal for recreating much of Middle-earth. Jackson’s visual realisation of The Shire is very lush and green. Similarly, the Southern Alps of the South Island effectively capture the spirit of Tolkien’s descriptions of the Misty Mountains and are very imposing. Filming outside of the US also had definite cost benefits to the overall production. However, not every geographical aspect of Middle-earth is as well represented. I have always felt that the Rangitata Valley did not adequately capture the rolling grass plains of Rohan. To my mind it wasn’t green enough. Rohirric culture is based upon both Goths, Scandinavians and the medieval Anglo-Saxons and so I envisage Rohan being more akin to European grasslands. However, such criticisms are far from a deal breaker in respect of one’s appraisal of the overall trilogy.
A key element in Tolkien’s writing is the use of music and how it is an integral part of all the cultures of Middle-earth. Composer Howard Shore wisely made Tolkien’s songs a key part of his soundtrack. As well as writing leitmotifs for central characters and recurring story themes, he also incorporated Sindarin text and other dialects into much of the ambient music to further embellish scenes. It really adds to the overall feeling of “world building”. In many ways his music for all three films feels like a character in its own right. His music also allows for the compression of the narrative and to convey plot points. When Aragorn heals the sick after The Battle of the Pelennor Fields, the music succinctly reinforces the visual images. Rather than having to explain that "the hands of the king are the hands of a healer" what the film shows is further reinforced by the accompanying score. However, although this is a joy for Tolkien fans, its subtleties may be lost on the casual viewer.
Peter Jackson also made a wise decision by casting a group of international character actors rather than smothering his production with box office stars. Sean Connery as Gandalf may well have broadened the appeal of the films but ultimately his larger than life persona would have been a poor fit for the nuances of the character. Casting Ian McKellen was a far more practical choice and proved infinitely more beneficial as the actor utterly made the role his own. Christopher Lee was another cany choice. Not only was he an experienced and subtle actor but a Tolkien scholar as well. The narrative complexity of The Lord of the Rings feature films did not need the additional burden of celebrity stars bringing their own baggage to the production. Using lesser known actors allowed audiences to focus upon their performances rather than be distracted by their sheer presence.
Tolkien’s body of work is remarkable for the way it successfully manages to encompass era defining events, yet still being able to tell the story of those caught up in them. This is something a lot harder to do on screen. Peter Jackson excels at creating complex and large scale set pieces but sometimes they tend to dominate the proceedings at the expense of narrative depth. It was one of the criticisms that Christopher Tolkien made, who felt that the focus of the movie was on action and spectacle at the expense of story and lore. I feel the reality lies somewhere in the middle. Certainly the Extended Editions of all three films addresses this issue, reinstating story content that was excised from the theatrical edits. Ultimately viewers have to come to terms with the fact that these three movies are Jackson’s “adaptation” and reflect upon the meaning of that term.
Hence we come to the thorny issue of how any film version of a complex book leads to key plot elements and characters being either simplified or removed for reason of accessibility. Personally I don’t especially like the “streamlining” of certain characters for the sake of the wider story, although I understand why Jackson did this. I feel that his portrayal of Theoden is somewhat bland, portraying him as a grief stricken King who is indecisive. I also feel it is incorrect to depict Aragorn as conflicted with self doubt. But these were done to make the plot more straightforward and understandable among mainstream viewers, who are not familiar with the books. I do like the extrapolation of the roles and relationship between Saruman and Wormtongue. Also having several Orc characters act as narrative conduits also works well. It is sad that Gil Galad and Elendil were also watered down or removed but it would have bloated the screenplay too much to include all canonical characters.
Twenty years on, I am not quite so enamoured with Peter Jackson’s trilogy and feel that there are elements that could have been improved or handled differently. However, there is still an inherent power to his films and he still merits a great deal of praise for crafting such an imposing adaptation of a book that many claimed was “unfilmable”. He definitely got specific elements one hundred percent right. The Amazon television production set in the Second Age of Middle-earth that is currently being filmed, is maintaining the same design and visual aesthetic. Howard Shore is also involved to keep a sense of musical continuity. All of which raises the point, will the next adaptation of The Lord of the Rings be via the medium of streaming television, rather than cinema? Such a platform is not burdened by running time constraints. It could therefore facilitate a more comprehensive realistion. Whatever the future brings, I don’t think Peter Jackson’s film will be the only ever adaptation of The Lord of the Rings.
Sometime in August 1979, I was travelling with my father by train to London, when I first saw posters advertising the Ralph Bakshi animated version of J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. The film had been released in the US the previous November and I aware of its existence because I had read articles about it production in Starburst magazine. Even at the age of 11 I was interested in genre films and television, having been raised on Doctor Who and Ray Harryhausen’s back catalogue of fantasy movies. Furthermore, I was familiar with Tolkien’s first novel, The Hobbit, as my father had read it to me when I was younger. I was impressed by the poster in that way that only an 11 year old can be. Why was Gandalf do gigantic? Also the A rating was enigmatic. Most animated films were usually rated U. Yet despite my interest, I didn’t see The Lord of the Rings at the cinema during the summer holidays.
On Tuesday 11th April, Aspyr Media rather surprisingly re-released The Lord of the Rings: War in the North, a co-op action-RPG from 2011. This game was delisted in late 2019, possibly due to changing rights ownership or a license expiring. Hence, I was somewhat discombobulated by the return of this title to all major gaming platforms. Mind you, the Embracer Group (through its subsidiary Middle-earth Enterprises) still controls the worldwide commercial and video game licensing rights for The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. Furthermore they have explicitly stated that they have plans for more games. It would appear this also means re-releasing and updating old favourites. It is also worth noting that they own Aspyr Media, which is also a bit of a giveaway. Let it suffice to say that this re-release and sparked enthusiastic online debate as to whether any other he Lord of the Rings themed games from the same era will receive a similar makeover. Judging by the internet chatter, there’s potentially a market for them.
At the start of the 2001 film, The Fellowship of the Rings, director Peter Jackson has crafted a compelling and visual stunning prologue. It distils a great deal of Tolkien’s text and conveys the essential history of the One Ring succinctly. Cinematically it works extremely well but it is sadly far from canonical due to all the practical considerations a film maker has to make when adapting a lore dense text. I have often wondered exactly how Sauron was defeated at the end of the Second Age because Tolkien is somewhat vague in The Lord of the Rings. Gil-galad, Elendil and Isildur all seem to be involved in physically fighting the Dark Lord. Gil-galad died due to being burned by Sauron’s touch. Elendil also died in combat and his sword Narsil broke beneath him. Isildur claimed to have delivered the killing blow after his father was defeated. However, no character in the story provides a definite, linear account of these event.
Tolkien enthusiasts may recollect Athlon Games, a subsidiary of Leyou Technologies, announcing that it was developing a new MMORPG, based upon The Lord of the Rings, back in September 2018. The following summer, it was revealed that Amazon Game Studios was the partner developer for the project. In late 2020, Leyou Technologies (a Hong Kong-based company), was acquired by the Chinese conglomerate Tencent. This triggered a contract clause with the license holder, Middle-earth Enterprises, allowing them to terminate the existing arrangement if a new deal could not be met. Amazon and Tencent were unable to agree upon how to proceed with the project, leading Amazon to withdraw from negotiations. The project was subsequently scrapped. No details or images of the MMO have been released.
Song is a fundamental aspect of Tolkien's writing, serving the same role as it does in our own cultures. It is a means of documenting history, expressing cultural heritage and maintaining traditions for the people of Middle-earth. The Ents sing lists of lore. The Rohirrim sing of battle and heroic deeds and the Shire folk, of ale and frivolity. Let us not forget that Tolkien’s fictitious world, Arda, was effectively sung into existence via the Ainulindalë, the divine music of creation sung by the Ainur. The cultural significance of song is also a key element of Tolkien’s world building. The songs within the narrative bolster the authenticity of the various cultures of Middle-earth, embedding their history and heritage into the story. Music, rhymes and songs also help define characters. The lighter ones sung by hobbits, provide lighthearted moments, contrasting with the dark and dangerous tones of the larger narrative. It also reinforced their rustic heritage.
I have always found it curious that there haven't been more feature films set in Middle-earth, after the success of Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy. However, a little research shows a very complex set of rights regarding Tolkien’s work, with different material being controlled and administered by different bodies. Hence, the market has not been saturated with officially licensed material. Thus, when The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim was announced to be in production, it aroused a great deal of curiosity both among fans and those with an interest in the wider film industry. To base an entire feature film on something that is effectively just a few paragraphs in the appendices of The Lord of the Rings is quite intriguing. The producers claimed it afforded them greater artistic freedom not to be constrained by an excess of lore. Industry pundits theorised that the film was being produced solely to ensure that wider rights were retained.
Two years ago, The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power premiered on Amazon Prime to mixed reviews and a tedious and predictable internet brouhaha. I have no interest in that debacle as I consider it spurious, to say the least. Representation is a commercial imperative for any big budget television production. As for any deviation from the established canon, that’s due to the show being an “adaptation” of Tolkien’s work. At no point were viewers promised a literal interpretation of the source text. Therefore I am only interested in legitimate critiques of the show based upon its production, writing and acting. As far as I’m concerned, the first season was broadly entertaining and had outstanding production values. Overall I enjoyed The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power as an exciting and inventive take on Tolkien’s legendarium. Hence, I have been looking forward to the second season, which began today.
Having watched the first two episodes of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, I wish to express my thoughts on what I’ve seen and my overall impressions so far. I do not think it would be fair to frame this post as a review as the two episodes only constitute 25% of the show’s total content. A formal review of the first season seems more appropriate when I have seen it in its entirety. Before I begin commenting on specific points about the two premier episodes, I wish to point out that I have no problem with “representation” and have expressed my thoughts on this matter in a previous post. It also covers the matter of “adaptation” and how complex texts can at times require augmenting to be made accessible to wider audiences. Hence those viewers who want 100% canonical purity are unrealistic in their expectations. Objections based in racism and sexism can simply be ignored. NB I shall endeavour to keep my thoughts spoiler free.
In February this year, I wrote a blog post about how Middle-earth Enterprises were seeking to auction off the various rights they hold for the works of J.R.R. Tolkien. Today the Embracer Group announced that it was buying these rights as part of an ongoing acquisition strategy. The Swedish video game and media holding company has also purchased Limited Run Games, Tripwire Interactive as well as Middle-earth Enterprises portfolio. They recently acquired premium titles such as Tomb Raider, Deus Ex, and Thief. The Embracer Group currently owns more than 100 studios including Borderlands developer Gearbox, Saber Interactive, and THQ Nordic. Saudi Arabia recently bought a $1 billion stake in Embracer, which is around 8% of the company’s total shares. Embracer’s recent purchasing spree comes months after it acquired Square Enix’s three major Western game studios. In a press release the cost of buying the right to Tolkien’s work is £653,000,000 ($786,000,000).
I was perusing my Twitter timeline last night and a tweet appeared from someone who doesn’t seem to care for the casting of Lenny Henry as a hobbit in the upcoming Amazon Prime TV show The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power. If you’re not familiar with Lenny Henry he’s a British comedian and actor of Jamaican heritage, who was one of first people of colour to establish himself as part of the cultural mainstream in the UK. He’s funny, smart and well respected. However, this particular individual on social media (we will not dignify them with a name check) was not happy about canonical authenticity being subject to the whims of representation. They tried to portray their objections as legitimate criticism based on a good faith argument, but some of the terminology they used clearly showed their true intent was passive aggressive dog whistle racism.
In 1969 J.R.R. Tolkien sold the motion picture, merchandising, stage and other rights to The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings and other literary works to United Artists. UA were riding high at the time with the success of In the Heat of the Night and The Graduate. Allegedly Tolkien made the deal to pay off a tax debt, although this may be apocryphal. He was paid £100,000 which is equivalent to £1,680,000 today. He also retained a 7.5% royalty interest that has now been transferred to the Tolkien Estate. UA toyed with the idea of adapting The Lord of the Rings and many cinematic luminaries were associated with the project. In the early seventies British film director John Boorman was tasked with writing a screenplay. Boorman, an established director with a track record of being experimental, set about developing a script with his long term collaborator, Rospo Pallenberg. However, the project was cancelled due to costs and the studio getting “cold feet”.
Finally the first teaser trailer for Amazon Prime’s forthcoming TV show set in the Second Age of Middle-earth has been released. The Lord Of The Rings: The Rings of Power will be released weekly on Amazon’s streaming service commencing September 2nd 2022. The first season consists of eight episodes. The series is a prequel to the events of The Lord of the Rings, depicting "previously unexplored stories" based on Tolkien's works. The show will include such iconic locations as the Misty Mountains, the elf-capital Lindon, and the island kingdom of Númenor. The Lord Of The Rings: The Rings of Power maintains the visual and design aesthetic of the existing Peter Jackson movies. Furthermore, composer Howard Shaw maintains his involvement as does artists and designer John Howe. Apparently, due to the Tolkien Estate being happy with the development of the show, Amazon had gained access to certain elements and passages from The Silmarillion and Unfinished Tales to include in the narrative arc.
In December it will be the twenty year anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring. The first entry in Peter Jackson’s trilogy of film adaptations of Professor Tolkien’s iconic novel, The Lord of the Rings. I was utterly swept up in the hype and media frenzy that persisted for three years around these movies between 2001 and 2003. I certainly have fond memories of seeing each film on the first day of its release at the prestigious Leicester Square Odeon in London. Broadly speaking I was very impressed with all three films at the time of their release. However, over the years excitement and fandom has been tempered with a greater degree of critical analysis and appraisal. Having recently watched the Extended Editions of all three films, remastered in 4K, I now think it would be pertinent to revise my thoughts on them and repost them here on Contains Moderate Peril. This initial post is intended more as an overview on the trilogy. I shall write three new in depth reviews in due course.
I have reviewed several audio recordings of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings over the years. My personal favourite is the BBC Radio adaptation from 1981, which has a superb cast of British character actors and does a wonderful job of adapting the text without diminishing the scope of the narrative. This is a dramatisation, rather than a straightforward reading of the book. However, if the latter is what you are looking for then the go to version is 1990 recording by Robert Inglis. He provides unique voices for all characters and even sings the songs included in the source text. And then there is the quirky Mind’s Eye Production from 1979, which is another dramatisation. This is a flawed version with a focus upon the character dialogue with much of the lore removed. Yet it has its charm and includes the often omitted Tom Bombadil. However, quite recently I accidentally stumbled upon a fourth adaptation and was surprised not only by the quality of the production but the curious history associated with it.
In late 2018 it was announced that Amazon Game Studios and Leyou were collaborating on massively multiplayer online game for PC and consoles set in Middle-earth. Ongoing development is being handled by Athlon Games, a global developer and publisher of free-to-play console and PC games. The studio is a subsidiary of Leyou Technologies Holdings Limited. But beyond the fairly vague press releases that can be found on the Athlon Games website (the last was posted in July 2019), little detail has emerged about the project. There has been unsubstantiated rumours that the project may well tie-in with the forthcoming Amazon Prime TV show that is set in the Second Age of Middle Earth. However, there is little information at present in the public domain to fully substantiate this or any of the other ongoing speculation. Hence, the entire situation raises some interesting questions and I’m sure like me, you have probably pondered some of them. Here are just a few that have crossed my mind.
In recent years there has been a shift in position of both Middle-earth Enterprises and the Tolkien Estate. Saul Zaentz died in 2014 leading to a relaxing in licensing requirements and Christopher Tolkien stepped down as the director of his father’s estate in late 2017, further contributing to increased commercial use of Tolkien’s intellectual property. Since then we have learned that Athlon Games are developing a new MMORPG set in Middle-earth and that Amazon Prime is producing a major TV show set in the Second Age. It would appear that the firm grip that has prevailed over the last forty years is now waning and that Middle-earth Enterprises and the Tolkien Estate are more disposed towards expanding the reach and financial potential of the Tolkien franchise.
Ralph Bakshi’s 1978 adaptation of Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings often polarises fan opinion. There is much to admire and there is also much to dislike in this 133-minute animated feature film. However, for many of us, this was our first visual foray into Middle-earth and for good or ill, it had an impact. You’ll certainly see several homages to it in Peter Jackson’s trilogy. And like so many cinematic adaptations of iconic books, The Lord of the Rings journey to the big screen was far from easy. Here are ten anecdotes regarding the film and its production.
The Hobbit (1977) is a curious beast. It’s a made for television animated film, which despite its budgetary constraints, strives to comprehensively adapted one of the most beloved children’s books of the last century. I remember reading an article about this television adaptation of The Hobbit, in Starburst Magazine during the late seventies. There were rumours that this Rankin/Bass production, which had already premièred on US network television, would gain a European cinema release. This was presumably to cash in on the success of Ralph Bakshi's animated feature film adaptation of The Lord of The Rings. However, this never happened to my knowledge. In fact, The Hobbit was not commercially available in the UK until 2001, when Warner Bros. released it on DVD to capitalise on the success of Peter Jackson’s The Fellowship of the Ring.
There are and always will be books that have a clear political agenda or make a very particular statement. Orwell’s 1984 springs to mind as an obvious example. Then there are also books that attract political interpretations by the nature of their plot or the subjects that they explore. Whether the author intended such a debate about the work or not, is a secondary issue. I have always taken Tolkien’s work at face value and to be what he stated they were. Epic and intricate faux histories, free from allegory. Furthermore, I appreciate that the moral position and themes of his work stem from the authors world view, personal experiences as well as the prevailing social dogma of the time. I find it interesting how his work attracts praise and adulation from a wide variety of groups. Catholics will naturally gravitate towards Tolkien’s writings due to his faith and that is the prism through which they will critically view his work. There are of course other examples about how The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings appeals to different people in different ways. It is a common aspect of fandom.
Canon and lore are sacred cows to many fans. Any deviation from the clearly established is met with scepticism and on occasions outrage. It is the hill they are prepared to die, defending. In the past I have felt equally as strong about this matter as others but over the years I have become increasingly relaxed about such things. I guess once you realise that your childhood memories cannot be ruined, despite what some claim, then you cease to worry as much. If you do not like an adaptation, extrapolation or continuation beyond the canon of a particular IP, then you simply say, “it’s not for me” and move on. Not liking an idea or concept because it doesn’t conform your preconceptions and personal tastes does not give you the right to try and quash it. So overall, I don’t mind Tom Cruise being Jack Reacher. A female Doctor Who is fine with me. I even like the movie adaptation of Raise the Titanic.
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?
Tolkien's use of song and verse are an integral part of his writings. I am not musically talented myself, nor am I a scholar of song structure but I appreciate how he uses them for plot exposition and character development. In The Lord of the Rings, the medium of song is also used as a means of conveying the enormity of Middle Earth and the wealth of history therein. They give us a sense of the realms lore and heritage, stretching back over millennia. The respective sophistication of each song also reflects the culture that created them. Songs from The Shire are rustic and quaint. The songs of Men are bombastic and bold. Whereas Elven music is often melancholy and complex.
In a fit of nostalgia I recently found myself perusing several retro gaming websites, pondering on some of the titles that I use to play on the Super Nintendo Entertainment. During the early nineties when this platform was my primary source of gaming I use to meticulously research new titles before purchasing. This was the pre-internet age and console cartridges came at a premium price, so you did not want to waste valuable money on a poor game. Magazines featuring previews and in-depth reviews were the main source of information. The other would be your local gaming boutique where you could hang out and discuss such matters with fellow gamers. Broadly this system worked and I enjoyed most of the games I played on the SNES.
In 1981 BBC Radio 4 produced an ambitious adaptation of The Lord of the Rings, presenting Tolkien’s novel in twenty six, thirty minute episodes. As with all adaptations some material had to be removed, but overall the BBC production was not excessively abridged and followed the plot faithfully. The characterisations and dialogue were extremely well realised and music by composer Stephen Oliver was very much in the style and idiom of Tolkien. This was a production of the highest pedigree and a major event for the BBC at the time. The series was heavily promoted, receiving front page status in The Radio Times, the UK’s premier TV guide and bestselling magazine. Although initial reviews were varied, the series immediately gained a cult following with fans trading episodes recorded on cassette tape. Word of mouth and substantial listening figures soon lead to revised opinions from the press, along with the immortal slogan "Radio is Hobbit 4-ming".
n 1969 JRR Tolkien finally sold the film and merchandising rights of The Lord of the Rings to United Artists for approximately £104,000. A year later the studio asked director John Boorman if he could make the books into a viable film. Boorman, an established director with a track record of being experimental, set about developing a screenplay with his long term collaborator, Rospo Pallenberg. What emerged was a one hundred and fifty minute script and possibly the most radical adaptation of Tolkien's work. Some of the ideas and concepts it contained were extremely innovative but others where simply too radical a divergence from the source text. I’ve collated a few of these for your consideration. If you are familiar with Boorman's 1973 film Zardoz, then you will note both similarities and re-occurring themes.
When discussing the various audio dramatizations of J. R. R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, people often think of the BBC Radio adaptation by default. However it should be noted that it was not the first. An earlier version was made and broadcast in 1979 on US National Public Radio and was subsequently released as an audiobook. It was produced by The Mind's Eye, a company who were responsible for numerous adaptations of classic literature for radio at the time. The script written by Bernard Mayes is a somewhat abridged version of the book. The eleven hour running time focuses significantly on the dialogue, with much of the back history, lore and expositionary narration removed.
Retroactive Continuity
If you are old enough to remember the popular eighties “soap opera” Dallas, then you will no doubt be au fait with the infamous ninth season of the show. Having painted themselves into a corner with the death of a popular character, the writing team effectively revealed in the season finale that everything that had transpired in the previous thirty episodes had been “all a dream”. Let us take a moment to reflect upon the hubris of this “creative” decision. Did fans complain and roll their eyes at this utterly trite plot device? Yes, they most certainly did. But they also kept watching and the ratings increased. It got the writers out of a fix of their own making and allowed them to move on as if nothing had happened. It was a very high profile example of so-called retroactive continuity being used in a mainstream TV franchise and my first experience of such a narrative device.
If you are old enough to remember the popular eighties “soap opera” Dallas, then you will no doubt be au fait with the infamous ninth season of the show. Having painted themselves into a corner with the death of a popular character, the writing team effectively revealed in the season finale that everything that had transpired in the previous thirty episodes had been “all a dream”. Let us take a moment to reflect upon the hubris of this “creative” decision. Did fans complain and roll their eyes at this utterly trite plot device? Yes, they most certainly did. But they also kept watching and the ratings increased. It got the writers out of a fix of their own making and allowed them to move on as if nothing had happened. It was a very high profile example of so-called retroactive continuity being used in a mainstream TV franchise and my first experience of such a narrative device.
Nowadays, retroactive continuity or retcon is used far more often. It can be something as straightforward as replacing an actor for an established role with a new actor, as in Iron Man where James Rhodey Rhodes was first played by Terence Howard and then Don Cheadle. Or something more impactful such as rebooting a franchise as with Casino Royale in 2006 or Star Trek in 2009. Daniel Craig’s tenure as James Bond effectively began an entirely new five-film, self-contained story arc for 007 that ignored everything that had happened in the previous films. J.J. Abrams’ Star Trek used the narrative conceit of an alternative timeline as a means to tell new stories with existing characters. All of these examples successfully managed to retcon their respective franchises without any major critical or financial consequences. Most fans managed to successfully suspend their sense of disbelief and overcome any continuity or logical flaws. But the process isn’t always as seamless as this.
Take the Halloween horror film franchise. The original 1978 movie spawned a direct sequel Halloween II in 1981. This ended with the central antagonist dying in a fiery conflagration. Hence Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982) is a standalone story. Creator John Carpenter then sold his interests in the franchise and so three inferior sequels were churned out based on the premise that Michael Myers had survived. Halloween IV: The Return of Michael Myers (1988), Halloween V: The Revenge of Michael Myers (1989) and Halloween VI: The Curse of Michael Myers (1995). Then in 1998 the first retcon took place with Halloween H20. This was a direct sequel to the first two films and ignored the story arc of parts 4 to 6. This was then followed by a further sequel Halloween: Resurrection in 2002. The franchise was then rebooted in 2007 with director Rob Zombie remaking the original film and then a sequel the following year. In 2018 a further retcon saw a new direct sequel to Carpenter’s original, confusingly called Halloween. A follow up, Halloween Kills, was released recently.
Retroactive continuity can be a useful tool in so far that changing established narrative events can provide a means to perpetuate a commercially viable and popular cinematic franchise. However there are consequences. Alien 3 featured a retcon that completely negated everything that happened in the previous movie, Aliens. A facehugger miraculously survived and managed to impregnate Ripley while she was in cryonic stasis. A convenient spaceship crash subsequently eliminated the characters of corporal Hicks and the child Newt. Something fans felt was especially mean spirited. The first season of the TV show Star Trek: Discovery saw a major visual and design retcon. Set just before the TOS era the production aesthetic was radically different from the established canon. Fans were not pleased and adjustments were made in the second season. And not only did Highlander II retcon the entire premise of the previous film, it subsequently retconned itself when three separate edits produced radically different stories.
The retcon has been an established part of film making for decades. Universal Studios used it extensively in the thirties and forties over the course of their commercially successful series of horror movies. Onscreen events were reframed to accommodate sequels, actors were replaced and lore bent to facilitate new plots. However, it can be cogently argued that the increase in retroactive continuity in recent years both in TV and cinema, ultimately stems from a creative system that is extremely risk averse. Experimentation with new and original concepts is an expensive gamble, compared to the proven track record of established franchises. Furthermore, if a franchise should suffer a less well received instalment, judicious retconning can be used to correct any mistakes. However retconning cannot cure an audience of boredom brought about by a continuous diet of the same content, just packaged differently. Ultimately, established trends run their course as the western and musical genres have proven.
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.
Halloween Kills (2021)
Director and co-writer David Gordon Green scored a major hit with his direct sequel to John Carpenter’s 1978 masterpiece, Halloween. He managed to bring a fresh perspective and modern sensibilities to the slasher genre and furthermore gave us a very entertaining and tense horror film. It was a superb bookend to the original film and the only real criticism that could be levelled at it was the confusing decision to call it Halloween, just like the original, rather than something that clearly indicated that it was a sequel. Irrespective of this the film fared very well both with critics and audiences, becoming a box office hit. However, financial success all too often begets further demand. Hence a film that was originally intended to be a standalone and definitive sequel, suddenly morphed into the first instalment of a new trilogy. Halloween Kills is the second instalment of this new story arc and compared to its predecessor it is far less coherent and relevant.
Director and co-writer David Gordon Green scored a major hit with his direct sequel to John Carpenter’s 1978 masterpiece, Halloween. He managed to bring a fresh perspective and modern sensibilities to the slasher genre and furthermore gave us a very entertaining and tense horror film. It was a superb bookend to the original film and the only real criticism that could be levelled at it was the confusing decision to call it Halloween, just like the original, rather than something that clearly indicated that it was a sequel. Irrespective of this the film fared very well both with critics and audiences, becoming a box office hit. However, financial success all too often begets further demand. Hence a film that was originally intended to be a standalone and definitive sequel, suddenly morphed into the first instalment of a new trilogy. Halloween Kills is the second instalment of this new story arc and compared to its predecessor it is far less coherent and relevant.
Halloween Kills picks up immediately after the events of the previous film. Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis), her daughter Karen (Judie Greer) and her granddaughter Allyson (Andi Matichak) escape from Laurie’s house which they’ve set on fire with Michael Myers trapped inside. As they travel to hospital, firefighters attempt to put out the blaze and in doing so, accidentally set Michael free from the basement. He subsequently murders them all and heads into town. Meanwhile, a group of survivors from Michael’s original killing spree are commemorating their experience in a bar. This consists of Tommy Doyle (Anthony Michael Hall), Marion Chambers (Nancy Stephens), Lindsey Wallace (Kyle Richards) and Lonnie Elam (Robert Longstreet). After seeing news reports on Michael’s escape they decide that they can no longer live their life in fear and decide to go out and hunt him down. Back at the hospital Laurie undergoes emergency surgery. Karen is happy to leave matters to the authorities but Allyson wishes to join Tommy Doyle and seek revenge.
Halloween Kills has a strong pre-credit sequence in which an injured Officer Hawkins (Will Patton) is found after being attacked in the previous film. Hawkins then has a flashback to 1978 when he was a rookie officer and encountered Michael Myers for the first time. The continuity with John Carpenter’s original film is outstanding. The seventies aesthetic is strong and there are numerous references to events in the first film, such as the dead dog in the Myers house and the fact that Dr. Loomis shot Michael “six times”. The Dr. also makes an appearance courtesy of a double and not CGI. It is a gripping opening gambit with a sad subplot which sets the bar quite high. Unfortunately, this level of tension and narrative intrigue is not maintained throughout the remainder of the film. After the flashback events return to Haddonfield on 31st October 2018 and the film follows three story elements. Tommy Doyle searching for Michael, events in the hospital as Laurie recovers and of course Michael’s renewed murder spree.
Often horror films are guilty of not trying hard enough with regard to their story and characters. In the case of Halloween Kills, it is the opposite. It is clear that writers Scott Teems, Danny McBride and David Gordon Green want to imbue the proceedings with a sense of continuity and lore. This is a laudable endeavour but the net results are scenes that often feel like they are extremely contrived and elaborate set pieces that are designed to mirror a sequence from Carpenter’s original. We see this when Marion Chambers finds herself once again trapped in a car with Michael Myers on the roof, reaching for her through the windows. The early scene in the bar where the survivors of Michael’s first rampage meet up each year is filled with expository dialogue that just serves to bring the casual viewer up to speed with events.
Halloween Kills also reflects contemporary audience tastes and hence the set pieces and kills are not only violent but dwelt upon. Although creative and gory they are far removed from Carpenter’s original which was more focused on suspense. One series of murders features an amusing reference to Halloween III: Season of the Witch with the victims wearing Silver Shamrock masks. Yet despite many good ideas and call backs to the franchise’s lore, the story doesn’t fit together seamlessly. It often feels episodic and that it’s overreaching itself. The film’s main idea that fear is infectious and succumbing to it eventually turns us into monsters is never really developed beyond its initial premise. Late in the story arc, Officer Hawkins and Laurie (who is underused throughout the film) contemplate the nature of evil and exactly what Michael Myers is. But it comes far too late and again seems to have been introduced just so the writers can crowbar the story to fit a specific scene that the director decided to end on.
Halloween Kills is not a bad film. It is handsomely made and all involved in the production are obviously invested in trying to do the best that they can (the score is again outstanding). Instead I think over ambitious is a farer and more accurate label. If you are a casual viewer and not invested in this franchise, then you will get an adequate horror film with some strong shocks. But when viewed in comparison with the 2018 film, this instalment undoes much of its good work in revitalising the story and finding new angles to explore. Hence fans of the first movie are inevitably going to be disappointed. Essentially Halloween Kills feels like it is treading water until its next instalment Halloween Ends; a problem that can sometimes blight the middle film in a trilogy. Therefore some viewers may prefer to dispense with this new story arc and simply view the 1978 film as a standalone story. If you seek a definitive conclusion, perhaps you can find that in Halloween II (1981).
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.
Bloodbath at the House of Death (1984)
During the early eighties Kenny Everett was one of the most popular comedians on UK television. His mix of “zany” characters, slapstick and innuendo filled the gap between traditional comedians and their sketch show format and the anarchy of the new alternative comedy scene. Therefore his foray into feature films in 1984 was a logical progression of his growing success. Bloodbath at the House of Death was conceived as a satire on the Hammer Horror genre, although the script by Barry Cryer and Ray Cameron touched upon everything from An American Werewolf in London, Alien, The Amityville Horror, The Legend of Hell House and The Entity. Featuring a solid cast of British character actors and a cameo appearance by the great Vincent Price, on paper the film had all the trappings of a potential box office success. Sadly, it failed to meet expectations and was savaged by the UK press who used it as a means to attack Kenny Everett for his perceived transgressions.
During the early eighties Kenny Everett was one of the most popular comedians on UK television. His mix of “zany” characters, slapstick and innuendo filled the gap between traditional comedians and their sketch show format and the anarchy of the new alternative comedy scene. Therefore his foray into feature films in 1984 was a logical progression of his growing success. Bloodbath at the House of Death was conceived as a satire on the Hammer Horror genre, although the script by Barry Cryer and Ray Cameron touched upon everything from An American Werewolf in London, Alien, The Amityville Horror, The Legend of Hell House and The Entity. Featuring a solid cast of British character actors and a cameo appearance by the great Vincent Price, on paper the film had all the trappings of a potential box office success. Sadly, it failed to meet expectations and was savaged by the UK press who used it as a means to attack Kenny Everett for his perceived transgressions.
In 1975 Headstone Manor, a "businessman's weekend retreat and girls summer camp", is waylaid by a group of satanic monks who kill all 18 residents. Eight years later, Doctor Lukas Mandeville (Kenny Everett) and Doctor Barbara Coyle (Pamela Stephenson) are sent to investigate radioactive readings in the area that have been traced to Headstone Manor. The manor is known by locals as the House of Death. Along with fellow scientists Elliot Broome (Gareth Hunt), Stephen Wilson (Don Warrington), John Harrison (Jone Fortune), Sheila Finch (Sheila Steafel), Henry Noland (John Stephen Hill) and Deborah Kedding (Cleo Rocos), Mandeville and Coyle set up their equipment in the house and await any developments. Meanwhile the Sinister Man (Vincent Price), a 700-year-old Satanic priest, prepares a rite in the nearby woods to purge the house of its unwanted guests.
The most obvious flaw in Bloodbath at the House of Death is its poor script, which is a surprise considering the involvement of veteran writer and comedian Barry Cryer. A satire of this nature needs a constant barrage of visual and verbal gags, as well as the humour derived from the main story. Blazing Saddles achieves this perfectly. Here there just aren’t enough jokes and out of those on offer, many fail to land. There are a few scenes that show promise. Mandeville and Coyle visit a local pub which is very much in the idiom of The Slaughtered Lamb from An American Werewolf in London. He gets into an argument with the barmaid regarding exactly how many people were murdered at Headstone Manor. More and more people join in, calculators are used and the confusion grows. It all culminates in a drunken song in which the entire pub recounts the murders to the tune of The 12 Days of Christmas. Sadly these sort of well conceived vignettes are few and far between.
All too often Bloodbath at the House of Death falls back on easy gags. Doctor Coyle encounters an amorous poltergeist which provides an opportunity for some nudity. There are also some cheap gore effects which are presented more for amusement than shock, such as a decapitation by can opener. The presence of Vincent Price (telling one of his underlings to “piss off”) does a little to elevate the proceedings but he is gone too quickly. And of course, this being the eighties we have two upper class comedy homosexual scientists, because that is “funny” by default. Why Kenny Everett, a gay man himself, accommodated such a pointless embellishment is somewhat odd. The final twenty minutes of the film in which doppelgängers of all the scientists attempt to kill and replace the originals leads to a lot of confusion and at one point a major continuity error. The head of the BBFC at the time, James Ferman, thought the reels had been shown out of order.
Hence, with the greatest will in the world, Bloodbath at the House of Death cannot be held up as an overlooked classic. This low budget production seems to have been made rather quickly to capitalize upon Kenny Everett’s success and therein probably explains the lacklustre screenplay. However, as mentioned earlier, the film was pilloried by the UK press far beyond it’s obvious failings. This is due to Kenny’s appearance in 1983 at the Young Conservatives Conference, prior to the general election held later that year. Goaded by Michael Winner, Kenny made several quips that although funny, were not really appropriate for such an event. Poe faced members of the establishment then deliberately took them out of context and turned upon him. The film provided a further opportunity to continue this public scolding the following year. Thus, Bloodbath at the House of Death was quickly withdrawn from UK cinemas due to poor performance. It now serves as an interesting cinematic curiosity. An example of how success on TV doesn’t always translate to the big screen.
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.
Night of the Animated Dead (2021)
George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead is a true genre milestone that is praised not only by horror film fans but mainstream critics alike. If you are interested in watching an intelligent, well researched and entertaining documentary about the film’s provenance and cultural impact then I thoroughly recommend Birth of the Living Dead (2013) by Rob Kuhn. It tells you pretty much all you need to know about why this classic film is so important. As for Night of the Living Dead itself, it still holds up well after 53 years. It is the immediacy and relatability of the premise and overall story that still makes the film relevant. The zombies are purely a “MacGuffin” and the real focus of the plot is how people behave under pressure in life threatening situations. It’s a film about how we can react to the same situation differently and how cultural baggage and the need for people to be “right”, hinders co-operation and thwarts progress.
George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead is a true genre milestone that is praised not only by horror film fans but mainstream critics alike. If you are interested in watching an intelligent, well researched and entertaining documentary about the film’s provenance and cultural impact then I thoroughly recommend Birth of the Living Dead (2013) by Rob Kuhn. It tells you pretty much all you need to know about why this classic film is so important. As for Night of the Living Dead itself, it still holds up well after 53 years. It is the immediacy and relatability of the premise and overall story that still makes the film relevant. The zombies are purely a “MacGuffin” and the real focus of the plot is how people behave under pressure in life threatening situations. It’s a film about how we can react to the same situation differently and how cultural baggage and the need for people to be “right”, hinders co-operation and thwarts progress.
The legacy of Night of the Living Dead is far reaching. It turned zombies from a minor horror subset into an entire genre of their own and propagated the idea of the “zombie apocalypse”. A plot device that can be used to scrutinise and explore all the various facets of the human condition or to provide an endless litany of gore and body horror. The central premise of Romero’s film lends itself to reinvention and interpretation. It has already been officially “remade” in 1990 which added an interesting feminist angle to the story. And there have been numerous unofficial remakes and variations on the same theme from all over the globe. All add something to the basics of the story. Which brings me on to Night of the Animated Dead (2021). The title clearly sets out the film’s pitch. This is an animated feature film remake which closely follows the narrative structure of the original.
According to director Jason Axxin “This is a remake of the original movie. It’s essentially a way to make a classic more accessible to modern audiences. This is in color and there’s a lot more gore and violence. If you were ever hesitant to watch the original film, this is the version to see. It’s a fast-paced roller coaster ride of violence”. Frankly I find this statement and its premise somewhat spurious. Is Night of the Living Dead really outside of a modern audience's frame of reference? If so, that doesn’t say a lot for the average cinema goer. However, if we are to take Axxin’s comments in good faith, the only credible comparison I can come up with is that this version of Night of the Living Dead is intended to be the cinematic equivalent of a Reader’s Digest Condensed Books. A streamlined and somewhat lurid distillation of Romero’s vision. It is also devoid of any character and is possibly the most redundant film I’ve seen since Gus Van Sant’s remake of Psycho in 1998.
Despite having a competent voice cast, featuring Dulé Hill, Katharine Isabelle, Josh Duhamel, Nancy Travis, James Roday Rodriguez, Jimmi Simpson and Will Sasso, the animation style lacks any distinction or innovation. Classic scenes are lovingly recreated but the overall design slavishly adheres to that of the 1968 film and therefore fails to add anything new and say anything different. The minimalist style doesn’t really bring the story or themes into sharp relief and the character designs are somewhat lacking. The screenplay is credited to John A. Russo who wrote the original, as it is a verbatim summary of the 1968 version. The score by Nima Fakhrara is used sparingly and is evocative of the library music that Romero used. As for the “gore” it lacks any real impact due to its rather crude realisation. It comes off as a rather unnecessary embellishment.
I appreciate that there were probably budgetary restrictions that had an impact on the production. Setting aside such considerations, Night of the Animated Dead provides a simplified, less nuanced version of Night of the Living Dead. It hits all the essential beats of Romero’s classic but offers nothing beyond that other than its own inherent novelty. The animation is functional but far from accomplished. That said, Night of the Animated Dead is not an utter disaster. It manages to hold your interest. However, a film being mildly engaging due to its pointlessness is not really a great selling point. If you are a diehard horror fan who is curious to see an ill conceived project, then by all means watch Night of the Animated Dead. But I cannot recommend it in any way as a substitute to the original. At best it is just a minor footnote that serves to highlight the merits of the 1968 version and the talent of George A. Romero.
I recently found a DVD boxset of Return to the Planet of the Apes in a charity shop which I bought for £4, which is a ridiculously cheap price. I considered it an interesting find because it was a Region 1, US copy. However, that is not so unusual these days as most DVD players are now region free and Amazon (UK) sells media from all over the world. As for the show in question, I vaguely remember Return to the Planet of the Apes being shown on UK network TV when I was a child, probably circa 1976. Back then it would usually take a year or so before US shows made it onto UK television. From a commercial perspective, the entire Planet of the Apes franchise was beginning to run out of steam. I was 8 years old at the time so had missed most of the film releases. However, I enjoyed the live action TV show hence an animated follow up had obvious appeal to a child of my age.
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.
With the proliferation of lore driven, franchise movies in recent years, a culture of analysis has developed online. Hence you will find a lot of YouTube videos that claim to “explain” the ending of specific films or provide clarification of their respective themes and subtexts. While critical debate and discussion about cinema is welcome, I think it is a mistake to always look for a specific meaning in cinema. Even clearly narrative films can be ambiguous. Art is ultimately a very subjective field of expression open to personal interpretation. Which brings me neatly to Flow, an animated feature film which tells a compelling story but raises more questions than it answers. It leaves the viewer to fill in a lot of the blanks themselves and the film is all the better for this approach. Flow is an extraordinary example of animation and a fascinating example of innovative, thought provoking filmmaking. Quite the rarity these days.
For those unfamiliar with Dav Pilkey’s graphic novel character Dog Man, he’s a half-dog, half-human police officer. This comic chimaera is the result of a surgical procedure carried out after Officer Knight and his trusty dog Greg are blown up while defusing a bomb. Greg’s head is grafted to Officer Knight's body. Post surgery, Dog Man (Peter Hastings) remains an officer of the law and continues to track his nemesis, Petey (Pete Davidson), an orange cat and criminal genius. However, despite positive media coverage and a high arrest rate, Dog Man incurs the ire of his Chief (Lil Rel Howery) who is jealous of his success. Furthermore, Dog Man becomes depressed due to the loss of his owner, girlfriend and former home. Meanwhile, Petey decides to clone himself in an attempt to find a worthy assistant and also plots to resurrect a deceased super villain, Flippy, who is an evil telekinetic fish.
I have always found it curious that there haven't been more feature films set in Middle-earth, after the success of Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy. However, a little research shows a very complex set of rights regarding Tolkien’s work, with different material being controlled and administered by different bodies. Hence, the market has not been saturated with officially licensed material. Thus, when The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim was announced to be in production, it aroused a great deal of curiosity both among fans and those with an interest in the wider film industry. To base an entire feature film on something that is effectively just a few paragraphs in the appendices of The Lord of the Rings is quite intriguing. The producers claimed it afforded them greater artistic freedom not to be constrained by an excess of lore. Industry pundits theorised that the film was being produced solely to ensure that wider rights were retained.
Whenever I feel that mainstream filmmaking is becoming increasingly bland and I grow despondent with it, along comes an animated film to prove that there is still greatness and art to be found through the medium of cinema. Robot Dreams begins as a tale of loneliness and then quickly becomes a eulogy to friendship and participating in life. The story then turns things on its head as it explores loss and finally concludes with a profoundly beautiful resolution, as it muses upon accepting change and new friends. Robot Dreams succeeds where so many other films fail by being honest, candid and sincere. Hence the emotions expressed by what is essentially a simple story are genuine and palpable. The film’s lack of dialogue is a blessing, with music doing a great deal of the narrative heavy lifting. This allows audiences to focus on the main characters without unnecessary distraction. The animation is uncomplicated but very specific in its style and setting. It utterly suits the tale being told.
Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio is a bold and inventive take on Carlo Collodi's classic story of the puppet that aspires to be a “real boy”. As you would expect from the director, it is a far cry from Disney’s 1940 version, taking a more bleak and sinister tone. Despite songs and exuberant set pieces, Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio is an exploration of grief, death and even fascism. The screenplay by Guillermo del Toro and Patrick McHale also tackles the complexities of the relationship between parent and child. It is a remarkable example of stop motion animation and is visually very striking. However, it is a somewhat niche market adaptation and is not exactly easily accessible to children or the furiously hard of thinking. It comes as no surprise that this cinematic venture was green lit by Netflix, which appears to be the new home of the experimental, rather than a mainstream studio.
George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead is a true genre milestone that is praised not only by horror film fans but mainstream critics alike. If you are interested in watching an intelligent, well researched and entertaining documentary about the film’s provenance and cultural impact then I thoroughly recommend Birth of the Living Dead (2013) by Rob Kuhn. It tells you pretty much all you need to know about why this classic film is so important. As for Night of the Living Dead itself, it still holds up well after 53 years. It is the immediacy and relatability of the premise and overall story that still makes the film relevant. The zombies are purely a “MacGuffin” and the real focus of the plot is how people behave under pressure in life threatening situations. It’s a film about how we can react to the same situation differently and how cultural baggage and the need for people to be “right”, hinders co-operation and thwarts progress.
It would appear that there is a Minions 2, although it’s release around the world has been staggered due to the pandemic. So I thought I’d revisit the original movie for a second viewing. Spin-off movies can be a risky venture. Side characters may work well in a supporting role within a successful movie but may not necessarily find an audience in their own vehicle. However this is most definitely not the case with Minions. The movie is ninety one minutes of exquisitely crafted cinema. From the opening Universal fanfare (which the Minions sing-a-long to) to the post credit rendition of Revolution, the film is consistently funny and perfectly paced. The production design and overall aesthetic is beautifully realised and the central characters of Kevin, Stuart and Bob are thoroughly engaging. Actually, forget "engaging ''. They are genuinely loveable. Directors Pierre Coffin and Kyle Balda barely put a foot wrong.
Although I have a passing interest in the franchise per se, I'm not a consummate fan of all things Batman. Hence a lot of content passes me by or I catch up with it years later. So it came as a great surprise when I discovered Batman: Return of the Caped Crusaders; a 2016 release in the ever growing catalogue of DC themed direct to DVD animated films. The movie is a de facto continuation of the sixties TV series, with the original actors reprising their roles (where possible). The cast includes Adam West as Batman, Burt Ward as Robin and Julie Newmar as Catwoman. Due to the death of actors Cesar Romero, Burgess Meredith and Frank Gorshin the voices for The Joker, The Penguin and The Riddler have been provided by Jeff Bergman, William Salyers and Wally Wingert. All of whom do their best to recreate the tone and idiom of the original artists.
There are three key elements to Disney’s 2009 3D computer-animated adaptation of A Christmas Carol. Firstly, director Robert Zemeckis clearly seeks authenticity and hence includes a lot of original dialogue from the novel, as well as a bleaker depiction of the period. Secondly, he uses the digital production tools at his disposal to create sweeping vistas of 19th century London as well as highly stylised caricatures of the central characters. Thirdly, as this is a Disney production, there is an occasional lapse visual humour and levity that is required by their business model. Sadly all of these aspects of the production make for strange bedfellows that are at odds with each other. The result is a visually sumptuous film that loses its way as it lurches between bleak drama, odd humour and CGI driven spectacle.
Upon its theatrical release, Mickey’s Christmas Carol was the first animated film to star Mickey Mouse for thirty years. It was therefore accompanied with a large amount of hype and a wave of nostalgia. The US marketing stated “He’s Back. Mickey Mouse in his first new motion picture” which was somewhat misleading, as the actual animated film was just 26 minutes long. It was shown theatrically along with a re-release of The Rescuers in the US and The Jungle Book in the UK and other territories, in late December 1983. And despite his name being in the title, Mickey doesn’t have a lot of screen time as he plays Bob Cratchit. This is very much a vehicle for Scrooge McDuck as Ebenezer Scrooge. Overall, it’s a succinct distillation of the plot of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, filled with cameo appearances by classic Disney characters. Naturally it is replete with the humour and sentiment that is inherent in the process known colloquially as Disneyfication. However, does this mitigate the book’s message?
At first glance, there is not much to distinguish this low budget production by Burbank Films Australia, from any of the other adaptations that were ubiquitous during the seventies and eighties. However, attentive viewers will discover a few details that lift this particular version above the mundane. Firstly, this is the second animated adaptation to feature the voice acting of Ron Haddrick as Ebenezer Scrooge. He had previously voiced the character in Air Programs International's shorter version of A Christmas Carol in 1969, thirteen years earlier. Secondly, despite the modest production values, there are a few additional scenes taken from the source text by Dickens, that don’t usually make it most film and TV adaptations. It is these minor embellishments that compensate for the simplicity of the animation (during the opening scene, some background characters do not move).
Scoob! is one of several movies that was slated for a theatrical release this summer but ended up being premiering on VOD instead due to the global pandemic. As a result, it is difficult to ascertain exactly how successful this animated film has been. A lot of trade newspapers have indicated that rentals have been high and that the film has proven more popular than Tom Hardy’s new movie Capone. Some industry sources have estimated a gross of $100,000,000 in a two week period. I suspect that the current lockdown has provided a market of children craving new entertainment and parents happy to pay for 90 minutes of peace and quiet. Hence Scoob! appears to have been in the right place at the right time. Whether that popular success would have happened if the movie had been released theatrically is another matter.
The first I found out about Top Cat: The Movie was when I received an email from an events company that was handling promotional screenings, prior to the film’s UK release in the summer of 2012. For some reason I missed the usual pre-production publicity that comes with the rebooting of a popular franchise. One of the benefits of this was that I didn't have time to fret or fuss about this reimagining of an integral part of my childhood. I must admit I was flummoxed that this 50-year-old franchise was subject to a makeover and was even more discombobulated to find out that the original show was a massive hit in Mexico and had garnered a huge cult following. This was why Warner Bros. subcontracted this production to Mexico's Anima and Argentina's Illusion studios. Subsequently Don Gato y Su Pandilla (Top Cat and His Gang) opened on 16th September 2011 in Mexico to weekend box office returns of 41m pesos ($2.9m). It subsequently became the highest-grossing independent animated films released in the United States that year.
It’s interesting that so many adaptations of Charles Dickens’ iconic seasonal story are brought to us via the medium of animation. Naturally, this is a far more economical means of depicting the story with its period detail and supernatural elements, compared to a live action production. However, for an animated version of A Christmas Carol to work successfully, it needs three things. An innovative and striking production design, robust voice acting and a screenplay that keeps the core themes while offering significance difference compared to prior adaptations. You’ll find all of these elements in Richard Williams’ 1971 animated short. Sadly they’re conspicuously absent from the 1997 version. Despite the presence such talents as Tim Curry, Ed Asner and Whoopi Goldberg, this is a distinctly arbitrary animated film. Considering that the screenplay was written by Jymn Magon who has years of experience working for Disney, I had hoped this would be better endeavour.
There’s a degree of hubris implicit in such a definitive title. At the very least the inference is that this is a notable adaptation of Charles Dickens’ classic book. And at first glance, it is perfectly reasonable to assume just that. Jimmy Murakami was an animator of note with such unique movies as The Snowman and When the Wind Blows to his credit. Hence it is reasonable to expect a similar quirky and experimental treatment of this well know yuletide story. However, what audiences actually get is a rather bold adaptation that substantially embellishes upon the established narrative. Veering between sinister and borderline psychedelic imagery, this is a very inconsistent version that tries to be too many things at once. Just as you think you’ve got a handle on the film approach it takes an abrupt turn in the opposite direction. Comedy, drama and even power ballads are thrown into the mix. Sadly, all these elements do not hang well together.
The Hobbit (1977) is a curious beast. It’s a made for television animated film, which despite its budgetary constraints, strives to comprehensively adapted one of the most beloved children’s books of the last century. I remember reading an article about this television adaptation of The Hobbit, in Starburst Magazine during the late seventies. There were rumours that this Rankin/Bass production, which had already premièred on US network television, would gain a European cinema release. This was presumably to cash in on the success of Ralph Bakshi's animated feature film adaptation of The Lord of The Rings. However, this never happened to my knowledge. In fact, The Hobbit was not commercially available in the UK until 2001, when Warner Bros. released it on DVD to capitalise on the success of Peter Jackson’s The Fellowship of the Ring.
Over the last few years I’ve reviewed several adaptations of Charles Dickens seasonal story A Christmas Carol. As I stated previously one of the stories greatest strength is that it lends itself perfectly to multiple interpretations. I recently had the good fortune to rediscover the animated version from 1969 by Air Programs International. I remember seeing this animated short as a child but could not recollect sufficient details to allow me to track it down via the IMDB. Then by complete chance, I stumbled across it again on You Tube while doing some research.
I have a great deal of affection for Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, not only because it’s a fine piece of literature but because it lends itself so well to dramatisation. I therefore have a keen interests in all the respective adaptation, of which there are many. Over the years there has been a trend to focus excessively on the sentimental aspect of the plot, resulting in a rather nauseating Disneyfication of the story. Although the redemption of the main protagonist is central to the narrative, the poverty and deprivations of the time are still very pertinent themes, especially in today's economic climate. I was therefore very gratified to rediscover the 1971 version of Charles Dickens' classic story which was originally shown on ABC. This short 25 minute animated feature realises the story superbly, capturing the tone of the book and accurately reflecting the darker aspects. Remember that A Christmas Carol is fundamentally a ghost story.
The Thomas Crown Affair (1968)
Millionaire businessman Thomas Crown (Steve McQueen) arranges for four men to steal $2,660,527.62 from a Boston bank. The men, who have never met before or seen Crown, successfully carry out the robbery. A fifth man then transports the stolen money and dumps it in a cemetery trash can. Crown retrieves the money, flies to Geneva and deposits it in a Swiss bank account. Eddy Malone (Paul Burke), the Boston police detective in charge of the case makes no progress until the bank’s insurance company assigns him one of their top investigators, Vicki Anderson (Faye Dunaway). Anderson thinks like a thief and works based upon her instincts. Looking through the evidence, she deduces that Crown is the culprit, potentially committing crimes just for amusement. Anderson subsequently meets Crown socially. Despite the situation and their respective positions, they are immediately attracted to each other and begin a relationship.
Millionaire businessman Thomas Crown (Steve McQueen) arranges for four men to steal $2,660,527.62 from a Boston bank. The men, who have never met before or seen Crown, successfully carry out the robbery. A fifth man then transports the stolen money and dumps it in a cemetery trash can. Crown retrieves the money, flies to Geneva and deposits it in a Swiss bank account. Eddy Malone (Paul Burke), the Boston police detective in charge of the case makes no progress until the bank’s insurance company assigns him one of their top investigators, Vicki Anderson (Faye Dunaway). Anderson thinks like a thief and works based upon her instincts. Looking through the evidence, she deduces that Crown is the culprit, potentially committing crimes just for amusement. Anderson subsequently meets Crown socially. Despite the situation and their respective positions, they are immediately attracted to each other and begin a relationship.
The Thomas Crown Affair is neo noir and a microcosm of Hollywood progressive cinema from the late sixties. It has a French cinematic aesthetic in its lighting and framing. Haskell Wexler’s cinematography is very fluid. The film makes extensive use of split screen and "multi-dynamic image technique", images shifting on moving panes. Director Norman Jewison directs confidently and with style focusing often on what is not being said, rather than what is. McQueen and Dunaway are charismatic and beautiful. They exude sex appeal and the pair carry what is essentially a dialogue light love story, through their onscreen presence. Noel Harrison’s performance of the song, The Windmills of Your mind, is suitably haunting and alludes to the complexities of Thomas Crown’s personality. It is all very arty, drawing upon all the prevailing cinematic trends and tropes of the time.
All of which is why I found The Thomas Crown Affair to be an interesting example of filmmaking from the sixties, rather than being an interesting film per se. Pop culture has evolved and the concept of the millionaire playboy and their “jet set” lifestyles is no longer universally admired and desired. Millionaires are now more often and not seen as Bond villains or at the very least, socially and emotionally dysfunctional. Hence the premise of The Thomas Crown Affair is dated with its self indulgent playboy master criminal. The more interesting aspect of the screenplay by Alan Trustman is the exploration of the “burden of wealth” and how having everything means you have nothing. Sadly, this is not explored sufficiently, as is the subplot about Crown’s dead wife. The bittersweet ending does work well and still rings very true. But the journey to this point is far too enamoured with presentation rather than feelings.
Perhaps the most problematic aspect of The Thomas Crown Affair is the soundtrack by French composer Michael Legrand. Norman Jewison originally wanted Henry Mancini to write the score for the film but he was unavailable and so recommended Legrand. His jazz heavy music was intentionally written for the rough cut of the film. Hence it had to be edited to fit on screen events in the final cut, which further makes the music an incongruous match. Plus jazz is a very broad church, musically speaking. Lalo Schifrin’s score for Bullitt, released the same year as The Thomas Crown Affair, is still cool as hell and funky. Legrands’ approach is far less melodic and far more kinetic. It is often very intrusive and frankly distracting. It ultimately makes a problematic film, even harder to watch for a modern audience. I may give the 1999 remake a watch to see if it handles the subject any better.
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.
Contemporary viewer’s may be perplexed by a film such as A Man For All Seasons. Why make a two our motion picture about a Tudor lawyer, statesman and scholar and their subsequent moral objection to the reigning monarchs marital status? Yet, during the sixties, it was entirely possible for a mainstream studio to produce a film based upon a stage play that dramatised such specific historical events. Furthermore, a film like this that relied upon strong performances and an intelligent script (and little more) could find a mainstream audience and be both a critical and commercial success. Nowadays, such productions still exist but they are now mainly the province of streaming services. Furthermore, the cinematic format has been replaced by that of a high budget TV show, which explores the topic at hand over an eight to ten hour running time.
Set in Brazil in 1901, plantation owner Christopher Leiningen (Charlton Heston) makes arrangements to get married. He has spent his entire life building his estate and reclaiming land from the jungle. He is fiercely independent but he is also alone and isolated. Joanna Selby (Eleanor Parker) from New Orleans agrees to marry him but their first meeting does not go well. Leiningen is unhappy to discover that Joanna is a widow and hence has a past, so he tells her to return to America on the next available boat. However, local commissioner (William Conrad) informs Leiningen that swarming soldier ants, or Marabunta, are moving towards his plantation destroying everything in their path. Leiningen refuses to abandon his life’s work and is surprised when Joanna decides to stay with him. Can they convince their native workers to stay too and can they defend the estate from the Marabunta, described as “forty square miles of agonising death”.
Millionaire businessman Thomas Crown (Steve McQueen) arranges for four men to steal $2,660,527.62 from a Boston bank. The men, who have never met before or seen Crown, successfully carry out the robbery. A fifth man then transports the stolen money and dumps it in a cemetery trash can. Crown retrieves the money, flies to Geneva and deposits it in a Swiss bank account. Eddy Malone (Paul Burke), the Boston police detective in charge of the case makes no progress until the bank’s insurance company assigns him one of their top investigators, Vicki Anderson (Faye Dunaway). Anderson thinks like a thief and works based upon her instincts. Looking through the evidence, she deduces that Crown is the culprit, potentially committing crimes just for amusement. Anderson subsequently meets Crown socially. Despite the situation and their respective positions, they are immediately attracted to each other and begin a relationship.
Writing a review of Apocalypse Now is a somewhat redundant exercise, unless you have never seen the any of the previous versions of the movie, or your analysis is offering a unique and wholly original perspective. It is one of the most scrutinised, dissected and studied films in the history of cinema. Furthermore, the stories associated with the films tumultuous production have become as equally legendary as the movie itself. There is as much apocrypha associated with Apocalypse Now as there are legitimate anecdotes. In many respects the documentary Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker's Apocalypse, which was shot during the films production, is equally as fascinating as the iconic movie. So with all this in mind, I will simply try to succinctly summarise my thoughts on this third version of Francis Ford Coppola’s magnum opus, which has been officially labelled “Final Cut” by the director.
When I first saw Throne of Blood as a teenager I was ill in bed with a fever. I found the brooding atmosphere and the use of fog, very hypnotic and was never quite sure if this ethereal quality was down to my state of health or the way the film had been crafted. Subsequent viewings have established that the dream like aspect of the film is indeed due to the creative talents of it's great director. Akira Kurosawa remains the best-known Japanese director to Western audiences, while other luminaries, such as Mikio Naruse, Yasujiro Ozu and Kenji Mizoguchi, are known mainly to aficionados and scholars of cinema. Kurosawa’s work maintains a critical consensus, although he was at one point rejected in his native country for being too entrenched in obsolete traditions and themes. On a technical level his film making credentials remain unparalleled and in many ways, Throne of Blood is a text book example of his style and technique.
In a recent blog post I wrote about the difficulty that you can encounter sometimes when trying to watch movies that have been deemed “classic” by popular consensus. I listed 10 films of note that I intend to watch this year and to see if my views aligned with the various institutions and critics that praise them. The first on that list was the iconic sixties thriller Bullitt starring Steve McQueen. Having now watched the movie, I thought it would be prudent to collate my thoughts on it. Considering the immense amount of material that has already been written about it, I see no reason to present a review per se. Rather, here are my initial impressions for consideration. I’ve tried to highlight some specific aspects of the film that I think are of note or merit debate.
Let us take a moment to consider those movie lists you often come across on websites and in magazines. Why? Because there’s a lot of them about. You know the sort, one hundred movies that you must see before you go senile, according to some well-known critic or august institution like the BFI. Or if you prefer something more hip and eclectic then here’s another one collated by British filmmaker Edgar Wright. Furthermore, these lists are often somewhat homogeneous, containing a mixture of bonafide yet ubiquitous classics, a percentage of obscure arty-farty bollocks and a few wild cards that they put in for a laugh. These will be either so-called cult movies or examples from the “it’s so bad, it’s good” school of film making.
"2001: A Space Odyssey. Stanley Kubrick’s philosophically ambitious, technically innovative and visually stunning cinematic milestone". BFI November 2014.
You will often find this sort of language associated with Kubrick's work, especially 2001: A Space Odyssey. It is considered by many to be his finest production and one of the greatest science fiction feature films ever made. In fact 2001: A Space Odyssey has become one of those cinematic sacred cows that regularly features in most film buffs top ten movies of all time. It's a curious thing because a little research will show that critical opinion was split right down the middle on its release in spring 1968. It is only over the course of the last five decades that the movie has grown in artistic stature and garnered the acclaim it now enjoys.
Following the 2012 restored release of The Curse of Frankenstein, Hammer, Icon Film Distribution and Lionsgate jointly produced a Blu-ray restoration of another British classic. This time it was the 1958 version of Dracula directed by Terence Fisher. This is one of Hammer's finest films and not only gets a superb High Definition transfer but also sees the restoration of two lost scenes. Dracula literally re-invented the horror genre and the depiction of vampires in film. It also established the studio as a key player within the industry and made international stars of Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. This new restoration finally does justice to the source material presenting it as it deserves to be seen.
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.
Yet More Cult Movie Soundtracks
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.
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.
One Million Years B.C. (1966) is a delightful collaboration between Hammer Studios and stop motion animation legend Ray Harryhausen. It is the tale of how caveman Tumak (John Richardson) is banished from his native Rock tribe and after a long journey encounters the Shell tribe who live on the shores of the sea. It’s historically inaccurate, with dinosaurs, faux prehistoric languages and Raquel Welch in a fur bikini. It is also great fun and features a superbly percussive and quasi-biblical themed score by Italian composer Mario Nascimbene. Nascimbene was an innovator and often incorporated non-orchestral instruments and random noises, such as objects being banged together or clockwork mechanisms, into his music to underpin the stories it was telling. There is a portentous quality to his main opening theme as the earth is created and primitive man emerges.
Get Carter (1971) is a classic, iconic British gangster film featuring a smoldering performance by Michae Caine. The musical score was composed and performed by Roy Budd and the other members of his jazz trio, Jeff Clyne (double bass) and Chris Karan (percussion). The musicians recorded the soundtrack live, direct to picture, playing along with the film. Budd did not use overdubs, simultaneously playing a real harpsichord, a Wurlitzer electric piano and a grand piano. The opening theme tune, which plays out as Caine travels to Newcastle by train, is extremely evocative and enigmatic with its catchy baseline, pumping tabla and echoing keyboards. The music is innovative and a radical change from the established genre formula of the previous decade which often featured a full orchestral score.
Witchfinder General (1968) is an bleak and harrowing exploration of man’s inhumanity to man, presented in a very dispassionate fashion. Matthew Hopkins (Vincent Price) is an opportunistic “witch-hunter”, who plays upon the superstitions of local villagers in remote East Anglia and takes advantage of the lawless times, brought about by the English Civil War. Price’s performance is extremely menacing and his usual camp demeanour is conspicuously absent. Director Michael Reeves paints a stark picture of the treatment of women in the 17th century. Yet despite the beatings, torture and rape, composer Paul Ferris crafts a charming and melancholic soundtrack. There is a gentle love theme that has subsequently been used in the low budget Vietnam War film How Sleep the Brave (1981) and even featured an advert for Vaseline Intensive Care hand lotion in the late seventies.
Journey to the Far Side of the Sun AKA Doppelgänger (1969) is the only live action feature film that Thunderbirds creator, Gerry Anderson, produced. It is an intriguing, cerebral science fiction film in which a new planet is discovered in an identical orbit to that of earth but on the exact opposite side of the sun. A joint manned mission is hastily arranged by EUROSEC and NASA to send astronauts Colonel Glenn Ross (Roy Thinnes) and Dr John Kane (Ian Hendry) to investigate. Upon arrival the pair crash on the new planet in a remote and barren region. Ross subsequently awakes to find himself back on earth in a EUROSEC hospital. Exactly what happened and how is he back home? Journey to the Far Side of the Sun is like an expanded episode of the Twilight Zone and boasts great production design by Century 21 Studios under the direction of special effects genius Derek Meddings. The miniature work is outstanding. There is also a rousing score by longtime Anderson collaborator Barry Gray. Gray always expressed what was happening on screen quite clearly in his music, scoring in a very narrative fashion. The highlight of the film is a pre-credit sequence where scientist and spy Dr Hassler (Herbert Lom) removes a camera hidden in his glass eye and develops photographs of secret files. Gray’s flamboyant score featuring an Ondes Martenot works perfectly with the onscreen gadgetry and red light illumination of the dark room.
For further thoughts on cult movie music, please see previous posts Cult Movie Soundtracks and More Cult Movie Soundtracks.
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 Legend of Hell House (1973)
There is a school of thought that the key to crafting a good horror or supernatural film lies with creating an atmosphere that impacts upon the viewer’s mind and emotions, rather than relying solely upon visual effects, gore and spectacle. Director Robert Wise clearly demonstrated this in his 1963 film The Haunting, based upon Shirley Jackson’s book The Haunting of Hill House. In many ways the film is seen as vindicating this particular theory. The Legend Of Hell House, made a decade later, is another example of this approach to genre film making. Directed by John Hough and written by Twilight Zone veteran and cult author Richard Matheson, it is another meticulously crafted piece of cinema with a focus on increasing tension and a sense of disquiet. Rather than intermittently scalding the viewer with jump scares, the film’s atmosphere is more akin to placing the audience in water and slowly bringing them to a boil.
There is a school of thought that the key to crafting a good horror or supernatural film lies with creating an atmosphere that impacts upon the viewer’s mind and emotions, rather than relying solely upon visual effects, gore and spectacle. Director Robert Wise clearly demonstrated this in his 1963 film The Haunting, based upon Shirley Jackson’s book The Haunting of Hill House. In many ways the film is seen as vindicating this particular theory. The Legend Of Hell House, made a decade later, is another example of this approach to genre film making. Directed by John Hough and written by Twilight Zone veteran and cult author Richard Matheson, it is another meticulously crafted piece of cinema with a focus on increasing tension and a sense of disquiet. Rather than intermittently scalding the viewer with jump scares, the film’s atmosphere is more akin to placing the audience in water and slowly bringing them to a boil.
Physicist Dr. Lionel Barrett (Clive Revill) is contracted by eccentric millionaire Mr. Deutsch to make an investigation into "survival after death". He must conduct his experiment in "the one place where it has yet to be refuted". The Belasco House, the "Mount Everest of haunted houses", originally owned by the notorious "Roaring Giant" Emeric Belasco. A six-foot-five perverted millionaire and alleged murderer, who disappeared soon after a massacre was discovered at his home. The house is believed to be haunted by numerous spirits, all victims of Belasco's twisted and sadistic desires. Accompanying Barrett are his wife, Ann (Gayle Hunnicutt), as well as two mediums. The first is mental medium and spiritualist minister Florence Tanner (Pamela Franklin) and the second is physical medium Benjamin Franklin "Ben" Fischer (Roddy McDowell). Ben is the only survivor of a previous investigation conducted 20 years before. All others involved either died or subsequently went mad.
British TV and film director John Hough had a very eclectic background prior to making this film. Yet despite only making one previous horror film (Twins of Evil for Hammer studios) he certainly shows a flair for the genre here. Using a very direct style bordering on a faux documentary, The Legend Of Hell House moves efficiently through its story. The Pre-credits sequence clearly sets out the film’s remit and then wastes no time in exploring it. It is not long before there is a seance with ectoplasm manifesting around Florence. And then both Florence and Ann are subject to nocturnal disturbances and whisperings. The spirit activity also plays heavily upon their sexual desires, especially Ann who is repressed. There are some intermittent jump scares and sudden jolts but Hough focuses more upon the characters reaction to the increasingly malevolent atmosphere, as the house itself preys upon each of the four researcher’s weaknesses.
Underpinning the proceedings is a discordant and sinister electronic score from former BBC Radiophonic workshop pioneers Delia Derbyshire and Brian Hodgson. It is composed mainly of sounds and rhythms rather than traditional music and motifs and it works incredibly well. The cast are all on top form and acquit themselves well, especially McDowell. His calm demeanour hides the true horror of his previous experience at the Belasco House. There is a disquieting scene in which he finally lowers his psychic barriers to the evil presence. The camera spends several seconds holding McDowell in a close shot only for him to scream directly into the camera. Gayle Hunnicutt also gives a very sympathetic performance, as the spirit exploits her latent desires. Screenwriter Richard Matheson, who adapted his own novel, has toned down the sexual content and it is handled intelligently rather than explicitly. Viewers are made abundantly aware how human lust becomes a point of leverage by the force inhabiting the house.
The Legend Of Hell House remains a genuinely creepy and undeniably uneasy viewing experience. It explores the conflicts between traditional spiritualism and scientific enquiry into the so-called supernatural with an honest eye. The two make for curious bedfellows but this idea works well with the confines of this story. The ending is a curious blend of both methodologies which I felt was genuinely innovative. I would also like to note how the Blu-ray release of The Legend Of Hell House benefits greatly by having subtitles. They show what many of the inaudible whispering voices are saying which greatly enhances the story. Over the years The Legend Of Hell House has grown in reputation. It received mixed reviews upon its theatrical release in 1973 but has garnered more attention over time by critics who see it as a more cerebral work, rather than standard horror exploitation fodder. Discerning genre fans with an interest in noteworthy films should certainly add it to their watch list.
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.
The Chairman (1969)
The Cold War was a mainstay of many a thriller and action movie throughout the sixties, seventies and eighties. However, all too often it was depicted in terms of the US versus the Soviet Union. China didn’t seem to feature so much, although it was just as equally an “enemy” of the West. Hence when I recently read about The Chairman (which has just had a Blu-ray release), it was of interest to me. An espionage story, starring Gregory Peck with a hidden bug implanted in his skull, infiltrating China to steal a secret enzyme formula is quite an intriguing premise. Furthermore, director J. Lee Thompson had previously worked with Peck on The Guns of Navarone, which is a solid action movie. Therefore I was initially optimistic that this film which I was previously unaware of, would be an interesting diversion. Unfortunately, having now seen The Chairman, all I can really describe it as is a cinematic curiosity. One of numerous films produced by a big studio in the late sixties that failed to satisfy anyone's expectations.
The Cold War was a mainstay of many a thriller and action movie throughout the sixties, seventies and eighties. However, all too often it was depicted in terms of the US versus the Soviet Union. China didn’t seem to feature so much, although it was just as equally an “enemy” of the West. Hence when I recently read about The Chairman (which has just had a Blu-ray release), it was of interest to me. An espionage story, starring Gregory Peck with a hidden bug implanted in his skull, infiltrating China to steal a secret enzyme formula is quite an intriguing premise. Furthermore, director J. Lee Thompson had previously worked with Peck on The Guns of Navarone, which is a solid action movie. Therefore I was initially optimistic that this film which I was previously unaware of, would be an interesting diversion. Unfortunately, having now seen The Chairman, all I can really describe it as is a cinematic curiosity. One of numerous films produced by a big studio in the late sixties that failed to satisfy anyone's expectations.
Nobel Prize-winning scientist Dr John Hathaway (Gregory Peck) receives a letter from a former Professor Soong Li (Keye Luke), who now resides in The People's Republic of China, requesting his assistance. Raising concerns with the US authorities, Hathaway is "invited" by Lt. General Shelby (Arthur Hill) to visit the Professor, who has allegedly developed an enzyme that allows crops to grow in any kind of climate. Hathaway subsequently agrees and finds himself embroiled in a joint operation between the U.S. and the Soviet Union. A transmitter is implanted in Hathaway's skull which can be monitored by a satellite. He is not informed that the device also includes explosives that can be triggered by the Americans if necessary. Neither the U.S. nor the Soviet Union wants the enzyme to remain exclusively in Chinese hands. Hathaway flies to Hong Kong to request “authorisation” to visit China and meets Security Chief Yin (Eric Young) who is deeply suspicious of his motives.
The Chairman has high tech trappings, similar to those seen in The Forbin Project or even Fantastic Voyage. Staff sit at computers monitoring Hathaways pulse and respiration, big screens track his locations and military staff pace up and down drinking coffee from plastic cups. The basic premise is sound and Peck makes for an unlikely hero. But once the plot has been established, very little happens. Hathaway goes to Hong Kong, meets the shadowy figure of Yin and then is granted permission to travel to China. There is a brief diversion when a Chinese agent attempts to seduce him while another searches his apartment but nothing is made of the plot device. On arrival in China Peck is given an official tour of the country, with a few nods to the continuous military presence everywhere. He next meets Mao Tse Tung (the chairman of the communist party and leader of China) who needs his help in finding a way to mass produce the enzyme. They trade political views and philosophy over a game of table tennis.
Peck is always compelling to watch and it’s interesting to see a story which attempts to explore the fear of China at the time. But there simply isn’t sufficient to sustain the narrative. There is an action sequence at the end of the film when Hathaway flees the remote experimental compound with the help of a deep cover Soviet operative played by Burt Kwouk. There’s then a chase to the border and an attempt to penetrate the minefield and electrified fences. But it’s too little, too late. The film ends with all three superpowers sitting on the information they all share and Peck attempting to place the information in the public domain for the benefit of mankind. It is a suitable ending and the film is quite concise at 98 minutes but it all feels very undeveloped and unremarkable. The main point of note is a solid score by the ever dependable Jerry Goldsmith.
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.
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.
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.
The Cold War was a mainstay of many a thriller and action movie throughout the sixties, seventies and eighties. However, all too often it was depicted in terms of the US versus the Soviet Union. China didn’t seem to feature so much, although it was just as equally an “enemy” of the West. Hence when I recently read about The Chairman (which has just had a Blu-ray release), it was of interest to me. An espionage story, starring Gregory Peck with a hidden bug implanted in his skull, infiltrating China to steal a secret enzyme formula is quite an intriguing premise. Furthermore, director J. Lee Thompson had previously worked with Peck on The Guns of Navarone, which is a solid action movie. Therefore I was initially optimistic that this film which I was previously unaware of, would be an interesting diversion. Unfortunately, having now seen The Chairman, all I can really describe it as is a cinematic curiosity. One of numerous films produced by a big studio in the late sixties that failed to satisfy anyone's expectations.
Former United States Marine Corps Scout Sniper and Vietnam War veteran Jim Hanson (Liam Neeson) lives on a ranch on the Arizona-Mexico border. The mortgage on the property is in arrears after the death of his wife has left him medically bankrupt. One day while patrolling his property he encounters Mother Rosa (Teresa Ruiz) with her son Miguel (Jacob Perez) illegally crossing the border fence. He calls his step daughter Sarah (Katheryn Winnick) in the border patrol and reports them as they’re miles from any habitation. However, Rosa and Miguel are fleeing a drug cartel and Mauricio (Juan Pablo Raba), one of their enforcers. When Mauricio and his men try to forcibly take Rosa, Jim intervenes and a car chase and firefight ensue. Mauricio’s brother is killed and Rosa is fatally wounded. She gives Jim a note with her family's address in Chicago and he reluctantly agrees to take Miguel there.
Sometimes a perfectly competent film simply misses the boat. The Fourth Protocol is a prime example of this. Based upon the novel by Frederick Forsythe this well made, somewhat clinical thriller arrived in cinemas at a time when the cold war was coming to an end due to “glasnost” and the “red menace” was becoming a somewhat tired plot device. It didn’t help that a similar story about a rogue Russian mission to detonate a nuclear device on a US base had already featured four years earlier in the Bond film, Octopussy. Michael Caine spent several years trying to get the project off the ground, after initially reading the author’s draft manuscript of the novel. Veteran screenwriter George Axelrod was hired and John Frankenheimer was sought to direct the film. However, difficulties in financing the project led to changes in the production and Forsythe ended writing the screenplay himself, while John Mackenzie (The Long Good Friday) took on the direction.
Film Noir often reflects the numerous things that influenced it. German expressionism, French poetic realism and American hardboiled fiction. Hence many films from this genre have a tendency to be stylised both visually and narratively speaking, with a fatalistic tone. Kiss Me Deadly, directed by Robert Aldrich in 1955, takes all these attributes as well as others and amplifies them in one of the bleakest and most uncompromising movies of the fifties. It features a brutal protagonist who isn’t even a decent detective and a plot that seems at first glance to come straight out of Greek mythology. Yet Kiss Me Deadly is compelling and lean without any superfluous scenes or narrative baggage. There’s also what appears to be the mother of all cinematic "MacGuffins" but once the film is over and the viewer reflects upon what they have seen, it can be argued that maybe the characters and the inevitability of their actions are actually the driving plot device instead.
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.
When one considers all the various elements involved in the production of Telefon, it makes it all the more disappointing that the movie fails to reach its potential. The basic idea about sleeper agents in the US is sound but the story doesn’t really go anywhere and not a great deal happens. The strong cast featuring Charles Bronson, Lee Remick and Donald Pleasance have to do their best with an undeveloped screenplay. Considering that it was written by Peter Hyams and Stirling Silliphant (from a novel by Walter Wager) it is quite surprising how lacklustre it all is. But perhaps the most saddening aspect of the film is the somewhat indifferent direction from Don Siegel, who by his own admission was not especially engaged with the story. Considering that he had scored a major hit the previous year with John Wayne’s swansong The Shootist, makes it more curious that he wasn’t more enthused. Even Lalo Schifrin’s score fails to bolster Telefon.
There have been several movie adaptations of the books of Jonathan Stark (AKA Donald E. Westlake) featuring his career criminal lead character, Parker. Sadly not all of them have fared well, either critically or at the box office. Many have deviated from the source material, often just using mere aspects of the original plot as the basis of their screenplay. Perhaps the most successful of these has been Point Blank (1967), directed by John Boorman and starring Lee Marvin. Slayground sadly follows the pattern set by previous adaptations. It changes several character names and takes two main elements from the source text and uses them as a premise. Specifically, a robbery that goes wrong which results in an accidental death and a climactic shootout in an out of season fairground. Due to the financing of the film, half of the story takes place in the US and the other in the UK. Much of the cast are British, resulting in a curious and at first glance somewhat incongruous film.
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.
John le Carré's Cold War thriller Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, is not only a good example of the spy novel genre, but a fine piece of seventies British literature per se. Therefore I was most surprised when I learned back in 2011 that it was to be made as a film. Could the complexities and subtleties of this cerebral and deliberately slowly paced book be adequately brought to the big screen, by today’s studio system? Could it compete with the previous BBC television adaptation starring Alec Guiness that was made in 1979? Thankfully, director Thomas Alfredson and Working Title films have successfully managed to distil the complex plot into the film’s 127-minute running time. Furthermore, the ensemble cast have a quality script to work with and the entire production benefits from the flair of a quality European director who brings an interesting outsiders dynamic to this very British tale.
Inside a dark, remote warehouse, seven members of an unnamed midwestern militia meet. They’ve all heard via radio or police scanners that an unnamed, armed shooter armed with a modified AR-15 has opened fire on a police funeral. The assailant also plant IEDs and the casualty rate is therefore very high. This means the authorities will be scouring the countryside, raiding all known militia groups and their affiliates in the region. The men’s concern quickly turns to panic when they discover that one of their AR-15 is missing from their weapons cache, along with body armour and explosives. Is one of their own the shooter? Ford (Chris Mulkey), the group’s no-nonsense leader, asks fellow member Gannon (James Badge Dale), a former police interrogator, to question all the men and determine who is responsible. However, matters prove more complicated as Gannon knows that one other member, Noah (Brian Geraghty), is an undercover cop. Can a solution be found before the police inevitably come calling?
Clint Eastwood is 88 years old and has a successful career spanning over six decades. During that time he has proved to be one of America’s most bankable box office stars and established himself as an actor and director of note among his peers. If The Mule turns out to be his swansong, then it is certainly a fitting end to a prestigious career. Because in many respects The Mule is a distillation of many of the themes and concepts, we’ve seen in previous Eastwood movies such as Gran Torino and The Unforgiven. Perhaps the core story of an ageing man trying to reconcile himself to a modern world and make peace with it, is in some way Eastwood commenting on the movie industry himself. It is very much his film and his performance underpins the proceedings.
What is it with director Ridley Scott and his predilection for multiple edits of his films? Is he indecisive and a consummate tinkerer (like George Lucas) or a victim of studio politics? I suspect none of these are true. So how come there are always multiple cuts of his movies? Do his terms of employment always deny him final edit on a movie? I would think not. A film maker of his stature must surely get far more favourable terms when contract to make a film? Whatever the reason it leaves audience with a problem. How is one exactly to determine which is the best version of any of his films to see? For example, Kingdom of Heaven was greatly improved in its extended format. Yet his revised version of Alien is actually inferior to the original theatrical cut. And don’t even get me started on the plethora of versions of Blade Runner. His penchant for multiple edits therefore makes it difficult to debate his work.
In a recent blog post I wrote about the difficulty that you can encounter sometimes when trying to watch movies that have been deemed “classic” by popular consensus. I listed 10 films of note that I intend to watch this year and to see if my views aligned with the various institutions and critics that praise them. The first on that list was the iconic sixties thriller Bullitt starring Steve McQueen. Having now watched the movie, I thought it would be prudent to collate my thoughts on it. Considering the immense amount of material that has already been written about it, I see no reason to present a review per se. Rather, here are my initial impressions for consideration. I’ve tried to highlight some specific aspects of the film that I think are of note or merit debate.
Legend is an extremely lavish biopic. Despite being about a pair of notorious British villains it has both the look and feel of an American gangster epic. There is no real attempt to depict either the period or the locations accurately nor is the story of the Kray twins themselves factually correct. As ever with American productions of this nature both the era and the subject matter are viewed through a miasma of sentimentality and faux nostalgia. The Krays are portrayed as folk heroes rather than the petty thugs that they were. However if you are prepared to overlook these deliberate biases then Legend is can still be an entertaining movie.
Red Tails (2015)
In 1944, the USAAF faces increased losses of Allied bombers conducting operations over Europe. The 332d Fighter Group (The Tuskegee Airmen), consisting of young African-American fighter pilots, are confined to ground attack missions in Italy and hampered with ageing, poorly maintained Curtiss P-40 Warhawk aircraft. After the Tuskegee Airmen distinguish themselves in support of the Allied landings at Anzio, Col. A.J. Bullard (Terence Howard) is surprised when the USAAF Bomber Command asks him if his men will escort the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress bombers on their day time raids. Casualties have become unacceptably high. Bullard accepts on the condition his unit be supplied with the new North American P-51 Mustang. The tails of the new aircraft are painted bright red and become the unofficial name of the outfit. Bullard orders his pilots to remain with the bombers that they’re escorting and their first escort mission proves a success without the loss of a single bomber. Slowly, entrenched racist attitudes within the USAAF begin to change.
In 1944, the USAAF faces increased losses of Allied bombers conducting operations over Europe. The 332d Fighter Group (The Tuskegee Airmen), consisting of young African-American fighter pilots, are confined to ground attack missions in Italy and hampered with ageing, poorly maintained Curtiss P-40 Warhawk aircraft. After the Tuskegee Airmen distinguish themselves in support of the Allied landings at Anzio, Col. A.J. Bullard (Terence Howard) is surprised when the USAAF Bomber Command asks him if his men will escort the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress bombers on their day time raids. Casualties have become unacceptably high. Bullard accepts on the condition his unit be supplied with the new North American P-51 Mustang. The tails of the new aircraft are painted bright red and become the unofficial name of the outfit. Bullard orders his pilots to remain with the bombers that they’re escorting and their first escort mission proves a success without the loss of a single bomber. Slowly, entrenched racist attitudes within the USAAF begin to change.
George Lucas is not known for his subtlety as a director, focusing more on visual flair than finely honed character development. Mercifully Red Tails does not do any sort of disservice to the memory of The Tuskegee Airmen. However, it doesn’t do them a great justice either. There are many aspects of the production that are outstanding, such as the ensemble cast featuring Nate Parker, David Oyelowo and Tristan Wilds and striking visual effects. But the weak link in the chain yet again is the screenplay by John Ridley and Aaron McGruder. It is laboured and pitched at a rather simplistic level. Subjects such as institutionalised bigotry, fascism and personal sacrifice need to be dignified with a bit more intelligence when depicted on screen. They are too important and complex issues to be portrayed in such an arbitrary fashion and sadly that is exactly how Red Tails plays out.
As a piece of populist entertainment, Red Tails works sufficiently. With the full weight of Industrial Light and Magic behind the visual effects, there is plenty of spectacle and the traditional story arc follows a distinctly tried and tested formula. The characters are engaging but this is predominantly due to the personalities of the respective actors. There is very little depth to the screenplay and the cast are mainly tasked with providing archetypes. The film will certainly play well to audiences who may not be so familiar with this aspect of World War II. The mixture of action and fast paced story should suit a youth demographic. But for the more sophisticated viewer, Red Tails will seem a bit light in content and lacking anything to make it distinctive. Portraying the Germans as “bad” because they are “Germans”, does not wash and seems a hangover from war films of the fifties. Furthermore the film seems to imply that after the success of The Tuskegee Airmen that the systemic problems of a segregated Air Force are effectively remedied. This sadly was not the case.
All films regardless of genre, require the suspension of disbelief by the audience to varying degrees and Red Tails is no different. Unfortunately George Lucas requires the audience not only to do this but to actively leave their common sense as home. You don’t have to be a military plane enthusiast to quibble over obvious technical inaccuracies or liberal bending of the laws of physics. One expects this to a degree in mainstream filmmaking but there are limitations. In this respect Red Tails does cross over the line. Ultimately, this could have been a superior film as opposed to just adequate, if a more seasoned director had been at the helm, armed with a more robust screenplay. One has to wonder exactly how much influence executive producer George Lucas had over various aspects of this production as Red Tails does exhibit the usual in-balance of content associated with his work.
The Imperial War Museum serves as a national museum for Britain. Its main location is in London, complemented by five additional branches across England. Established in 1917 as the Imperial War Museum, its original purpose was to document the civil and military efforts and sacrifices made by the United Kingdom and its Empire during the First World War. Over time, the museum’s scope has broadened to encompass all conflicts involving British or Commonwealth forces since 1914. As of 2012, the museum’s mission is to provide and encourage the study and understanding of the history of modern warfare as well as the “wartime experience”. The IWM as it is now known has its headquarters and primary site is located at Southwark in Central London. The museum is funded by government grants, charitable donations and revenue generated through commercial activity such as retailing, licensing and publishing. General admission is free to IWM London.
Over the years I have seen many documentaries about World War II. Although I do not claim in any way to be an expert, I believe I have a good grasp on the causes and the course of that six year conflict. However, it recently struck me that I could not say the same about World War I. In my youth I watched a repeat showing of the BBC documentary series The Great War (1964) but I remember very little of its prodigious 26 episodes. The one thing that stood out were the interviews with veterans. So I was very pleased when perusing BritBox over the weekend to find the 2003 documentary The First World War, based upon the book of the same name by Professor Hew Strachan. This ten part analysis takes a global view of the conflict, rather than excessively focusing upon the Western Front and also debunks a lot of the apocryphal ideas and notions that have persisted over the years. I found it so compelling that I binged watched the entire thing over two evenings.
In 1944, the USAAF faces increased losses of Allied bombers conducting operations over Europe. The 332d Fighter Group (The Tuskegee Airmen), consisting of young African-American fighter pilots, are confined to ground attack missions in Italy and hampered with ageing, poorly maintained Curtiss P-40 Warhawk aircraft. After the Tuskegee Airmen distinguish themselves in support of the Allied landings at Anzio, Col. A.J. Bullard (Terence Howard) is surprised when the USAAF Bomber Command asks him if his men will escort the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress bombers on their day time raids. Casualties have become unacceptably high. Bullard accepts on the condition his unit be supplied with the new North American P-51 Mustang. The tails of the new aircraft are painted bright red and become the unofficial name of the outfit. Bullard orders his pilots to remain with the bombers that they’re escorting and their first escort mission proves a success without the loss of a single bomber. Slowly, entrenched racist attitudes within the USAAF begin to change.
I have always had a soft spot for the action movies that Euan Lloyd produced in the late seventies and early eighties. The Wild Geese (1978), The Sea Wolves (1980), Who Dares Wins (1982) and Wild Geese II (1985). They were quite gritty and all had a strong cast of British character actors. Sadly some of them strayed into political issues with their stories and often got out of their depths. The Wild Geese ham-fistedly explores the political landscape of post colonial Africa and Who Dares Wins clumsily deals with terrorism and the concept of unilateral nuclear disarmament. Yet despite the somewhat school boy approach to geopolitics, the action scenes are well crafted (often by legendary Bond stunt arranger Bob Simmons) and the cast more than make up for any narrative failings. All four films also have charismatic soundtracks by Roy Budd. However The Sea Wolves differs from the other three movies in so far that it is set during World War II and is loosely based on real events.
One of the things that immediately strikes you when watching Fury is its credibility and realism. The film reeks of authenticity. Every aspect of the production has been meticulously researched, from uniform and equipment, to ordnance and tactics. The M4A3E8 Sherman tank was not only the workhorse of the US Army but also a home for its five man crew. Director David Ayer makes this idea the foundation of his movie and then proceeds to explore those two perennial themes, the horrors of war and the loss of innocence. The film focuses on the experiences of the crew consisting of Don "Wardaddy" Collier (Brad Pitt), gunner Boyd "Bible" Swan (Shia LeBeouf), loader Grady "Coon-Ass" Travis (Jon Bernthal), and driver Trini "Gordo" Garcia (Michael Peña). They’re a tight knit family, relying on each other to stay alive and keep their mental stability.
Conspiracy is a 2001 co-production between the BBC and HBO, that dramatises the events of the Wannsee Conference of 1942. Based upon secret minutes of the meeting, the drama explores the businesslike manner in which the German State decided and implemented the "Final Solution of the Jewish Question" during World War II. Set in a confiscated lakeside villa in the Berlin borough of Wannsee, the plot unfolds around a conference table. The screenplay by Loring Mandel is free from theatrics and hyperbole. Instead it focuses upon a chilling meeting in which genocide is calmly debated in the same way as armament quotas or economic growth. Frank Pierson’s direction is straightforward and uncomplicated allowing the viewer to dwell on the manner and tone of the proceedings. Conspiracy features an ensemble cast, including Kenneth Branagh as Reinhard Heydrich, Stanley Tucci as Adolf Eichmann, Colin Firth as Dr Wilhelm Stuckart and an early appearance by Tom Hiddleston.
Greyhound is a curious film in that it flies in the face of one’s expectations. When I (and possibly others) see an advertisement or trailer for a World War II movie starring Tom Hanks, I naturally assume that the lead actor has been hired for his prodigious acting talent and that he’ll be providing an in depth character study. I was expecting Greyhound to be the story of an untested US Naval Commander enduring an ordeal by fire on his first escort mission. And that is to a degree what director Aaron Schneider provides but instead of the narrative arc focusing on Ernest Krause’s emotional struggles with his duties, we instead get a docudrama focusing on the technicalities of naval warfare. The latter approach is certainly engaging and at times tense and exciting but this decision narrows the appeal of the film. I personally would have preferred the former.
Big budget, historically driven movies that set out to recount key events of World War II are a rarity these days. If you ignore the bombastic inanities of Michael Bay’s Pearl Harbor (2001), then you have to go back to the late seventies to films such as A Bridge Too Far to find a suitable example. This is why Roland Emmerich’s Midway came as a genuine surprise. When I saw a trailer for the film last October, I was flummoxed that such a production had been made. My initial concerns were that it would focus on spectacle rather than historical fact and trivialise events of great military and historical importance. After having watched Midway, I am pleased to report that this is a surprising throwback in many ways. The film covers the events of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, the subsequent Doolittle Raids on Tokyo by the US and the Battle of Midway, both succinctly and accurately. Furthermore, much of the cast play real veterans who participated in these events. Overall this is an entertaining and informative movie that feels like a relic from fifty years ago. However, its docudrama aspirations also make for somewhat generic character development.
For the first ten minutes or so, World War II action horror movie Overlord ticks a lot of boxes. The film has a surprisingly high budget ($38,000,000) for a niche genre product and as a result has a handsome production design. The cinematography by Laurie Rose and Fabian Wagner is striking, capturing the beauty of the French countryside as well as framing the various unpleasantness in a suitably Teutonic fashion. The visual effects both digital and practical are also of a high calibre, further adding to the authentic atmosphere. Yet despite all these positive points, Overlord is a somewhat slow and underwhelming affair, running fifteen to twenty minutes too long. Like so many modern movies, the focus of the production is on spectacle, rather than on character and script. Hence Overlords fails to meet its potential and makes for a somewhat frustrating viewing experience due to it squandering such a good opportunity.
I have enjoyed Sniper Elite 4 and all of the sundry DLC immensely since its release in Spring. The game presents an interesting alternative to the traditional shooter with its stealth based level design. The latest instalment, Obliteration (the third part of an ongoing story), is set in an empty Bavarian town and has an intricate map with an authentic period feel. It offers opportunities for both long range sniping and close quarters stealth kills. Overall, I have found that the franchise provides engaging and complex gameplay, as well as satisfying the players baser need for blood and violence. However, playing this and other similar titles got me thinking. It would appear that World War II, one of the defining periods of the last century that still has ramifications today, is in certain quarters now simply a setting, a plot device or a Hitchcockian MacGuffin. Is the broader subtext of this major event now irrelevant to a generation of players because they have no immediate connection to this period in history? If that is the case, exactly when does it become acceptable for something of this magnitude, to be trivialised in this manner (if that is indeed the case).
Five Came Back is a fascinating documentary about five remarkable Hollywood film directors who put themselves in harm’s way to film World War II for the US War Department. William Wyler, Frank Capra, George Stevens, John Ford and John Huston were in many ways a diverse bunch, yet the all represented a different facet of “America”. Certainly, all were idealists who felt it was their duty to use their talents to create accessible propaganda for the US public and more importantly, the 12 million men who were drafted. Despite the factual accuracy of this three-part documentary, there is an inherent romance to the tale and the way these Hollywood mavericks took on first American Isolationism, then the Third Reich and US military politics.
Gritty, grim and fatalistic are just a few of the ways I would describe Play Dirty. Made at a time when cinema was becoming more realistic and cynical, it eschews the traditional depiction of World War II heroism and paints a singularly unglamorous picture. Due to some minor plot similarities, it is frequently compared to The Dirty Dozen but they are far from identical movies. Robert Aldrich’s film despite having an offbeat plot and a cast of quality characters actors still followed a traditional action based formula and had a relatively upbeat ending. Play Dirty is content to pursue its dour storyline to its inevitable conclusion.
The seventies were a Golden Age for cerebral documentaries with such outstanding examples as The Ascent of Man, Cosmos and Life on Earth. Such shows were content driven, relying heavily upon the quality of the script along with the charisma and gravitas of the presenter. Jacob Bronowski, Carl Sagan and David Attenborough were exemplars of this. Jeremy Isaac’s The World at War is another archetype of quality documentary film making from this decade.
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.