Dear Mr. Watterson (2013)
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.
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.
Cartoonist Bill Watterson retired his comic strip “Calvin & Hobbes”, after a very successful ten year run from 1985 to 1995. The cartoon about a 6-year-old boy and his tiger companion, had and continues to have much to say about American culture, childhood, friendship and many other philosophical points. Although demonstrably a US product, its themes and characters had a worldwide appeal due to its universal themes. Furthermore, Watterson was extremely experimental in the way he presented his artwork, often abandoning the traditional linear panel format. What the documentary makes clear is that both Watterson and subsequently his cartoonist peers consider his creations “art”. The notion that the cartoon strip is an inherently lower form of artistic endeavour, is summarily dismissed as part of the inherent snobbery that exists around art per se. Watterson’s perspective on his own work is a key theme throughout the documentary.
Post 1995, Bill Watterson has led a reclusive life in small-town Ohio, where he has pursued other artistic endeavours. Although financially successful due to the ongoing syndication of “Calvin & Hobbes”, along with the continuous sales of anthologies of the cartoon, Watterson is notable as one of the few artists that has eschewed lucrative merchandising deals. Unlike most of his contemporaries such as Charles M. Schulz (“Peanuts”) and Jim Davis (“Garfield”). Dear Mr. Watterson takes a lot of pain to examine such an unusual stance, with one talking head hinting that it is borderline “unamerican” to do such a thing. Yet Watterson saw such monetisation as diminishing the artistic merits and significance of his creation. Something that Stephan Pastis, creator of “Pearls Before Swine” broadly agrees with, citing from personal experience that the moment you embrace marketing you are subject to a wealth of commercial pressures that impact upon your creativity.
Dear Mr. Watterson ultimately fall between two stools as it is a little too insular to be immediately accessible to those casually interested in “Calvin & Hobbes”, while simultaneously not being a definitive overview for hardcore fans. It does have its moments. One certainly gets a sense of Bill Watterson’s talent when looking at his original artwork at The Ohio State University. The documentary also does a good job of analysing the final cartoon he created which ends with the positive statement “Let’s go exploring”. It also accurately assesses the diminishing of comic strips in newspapers due to the industry's own decline. The conclusion is that it's highly unlikely that any other strip will achieve similar success and have such a cultural impact. “Calvin & Hobbes” remains an enigma born of great talent and the good fortune to be in the right place at the right time.
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.
Kurt Vonnegut: Unstuck in Time (2021)
“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.
“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.
“Kurt Vonnegut: Unstuck in Time” is structured very much like Vonnegut's writing; deliberately fragmented and very self-aware. At times it takes a chronological approach and at others, leaps forward to future events and highlights this by showing Weide editing the very documentary on his computer. We do get to learn about Vonnegut’s youth, family and other key aspects of his life as the documentary lapses into a classic PBS approach to its subject. It takes a while to get to the matter of his experiences in Dresden in World War II and despite his irreverent tone, it is clear that this part of his life is key to his mindset and philosophy in later life, as well as his emotional well being. All of which paints a very interesting and broadly favourable portrait of the man. Which makes it all the more jarring when he leaves his wife shortly after achieving the success in which her support is instrumental.
Where “Kurt Vonnegut: Unstuck in Time” excels is in examining the wealth of material regarding Vonnegut’s writing. We see first draft, typewritten manuscripts complete with handwritten revisions that clearly show the author refining his style and process during his early years. Correspondence and then later, answerphone messages provide further insight to the author’s struggle to commit his work to the page and the birth of his alter ego, Kilgore Trout. As the documentary progresses, over time Vonnegut becomes very comfortable talking about himself to Weide. He clearly shows he is someone who relishes his relationship with his audience and the opportunity to “perform”. There is some compelling footage of talks and lectures in which Vonnegut effortlessly engages with fans and riffs off their questions and adulation. Not every author requires the love of his readers but it clearly was integral to Vonnegut’s pathology.
Overall, any gaps in the history of Kurt Vonnegut or self-indulgent asides are subordinate to this documentary’s sincere and honest analysis of Vonnegut's World War II experiences. His initial denial of the significance of his time as a P.O.W. is ultimately overturned after writing “Slaughterhouse Five” and the documentary takes great pains to stress the cathartic nature of this undertaking. His disgust of war subsequently boiled over again during the second Bush administration and the subsequent invasion of Iraq. Vonnegut despised the use of patriotism as a political tool and subsequently wrote a series of opinion pieces for “In These Times” magazine which became the foundation for his final major work “A Man Without a Country”. Robert B. Weide’s ““Kurt Vonnegut: Unstuck in Time”” is a loving tribute to a dear friend as well as an analysis of a cultural icon. It’s important to appreciate the former while addressing the latter. There may well be future documentaries about Vonnegut that are more objective but they’ll not be as personal as this one.
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.
Murphy's War (1971)
During the last days of World War II, the British Merchant Navy ship Mount Kyle is torpedoed by a German U-Boat off the coast of Venezuela. The crew are subsequently massacred as they abandon ship, leaving one survivor, an Irish engineer named Murphy (Peter O’Toole). After being rescued by Louis Brezon (Philippe Noiret), a caretaker for an oil company which has a pipeline in the area, he is taken to a local missionary medical facility run by Dr. Hayden (Siân Phillips). Upon recovering, Murphy becomes determined to find the U-Boat that sank his ship and seeks revenge. However, as the war is clearly drawing to a close Dr. Hayden is reluctant to help him and tries to dissuade him from his plan as it may endanger the local community. In the meantime, Murphy finds a damaged Grumman J2F Duck floatplane from his ship and salvages it. With the assistance of Louis, he makes some improvised munitions and draws his plans against the Germans.
During the last days of World War II, the British Merchant Navy ship Mount Kyle is torpedoed by a German U-Boat off the coast of Venezuela. The crew are subsequently massacred as they abandon ship, leaving one survivor, an Irish engineer named Murphy (Peter O’Toole). After being rescued by Louis Brezon (Philippe Noiret), a caretaker for an oil company which has a pipeline in the area, he is taken to a local missionary medical facility run by Dr. Hayden (Siân Phillips). Upon recovering, Murphy becomes determined to find the U-Boat that sank his ship and seeks revenge. However, as the war is clearly drawing to a close Dr. Hayden is reluctant to help him and tries to dissuade him from his plan as it may endanger the local community. In the meantime, Murphy finds a damaged Grumman J2F Duck floatplane from his ship and salvages it. With the assistance of Louis, he makes some improvised munitions and draws his plans against the Germans.
I suspect that Murphy’s War was intended to be a minimalist exploration of the old adage “if you devote your life to seeking revenge, first dig two graves”. Written by Stirling Silliphant (The Enforcer, Towering Inferno) and directed by Peter Yates (Bullitt, The Deep and Krull), Murphy’s War teases the audience with several instances of potential narrative depths. What motivates U-Boat Commander Lauchs (Horst Janson) to shoot the crew of the Mount Kyle, as they pose no threat to him or his vessel? Is there a love triangle between Murphy, Dr. Hayden and Louis? Why is Murphy so motivated to destroy the U-Boat, considering he initially comes across as a reluctant seaman with little love for English Officers. There’s even a tenuous reference to the IRA. Is he deranged or honourable? These questions raise some interesting opportunities for the film to explore some timeless cinematic themes.
Sadly, even within the deliberately understated framework of seventies cinema, these elements are woefully neglected, leaving us with a matter of fact story that struggles to fill its 106 minutes running time. It’s all somewhat ponderous and very frustrating when considering the quality of the cast and production. Hence we have lengthy scenes in which Murphy struggles to fly the salvaged seaplane and then later, flying around the Orinoco River searching for his quarry. It’s all beautifully shot by veteran cinematographer, Douglas Slocombe, but it often feels like padding to bolster a story that isn’t anywhere near as deep as it likes to think. The climax of the film and Murphy’s subsequent Pyrrhic victory lacks any dramatic impact because there’s no explanation for his descent into a latter day Captain Ahab. The audience is left to ponder whether it was all worthwhile and I for one, broadly feel that it wasn’t. Considering the pedigree of this production, Murphy’s War should be much better.
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.
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.
Zulu (1964) recounts the Battle of Rorke’s Drift between the British Army and the Zulus in January 1879. Directed, produced and co-written by Cy Endfield the film presents an action filled account of how 150 British soldiers, 30 of whom were sick and wounded, successfully held off a force of 4,000 Zulu warriors. Although well made and rousing, it is very much a film from the British perspective. Despite depicting the Zulu nation fairly, the film makes no attempt to put the clash between two empires in any sort of wider context. Zulu Dawn is a direct prequel which shows the events that directly lead up to the Battle of Rorke’s Drift. Much more time is dedicated to exploring the Zulu’s position as their leader King Cetshwayo attempts to avoid the political fait accompli he has been presented with. Furthermore, Zulu Dawn does not in any way try to avoid the failure of the British chain of command that resulted in the defeat of 1,300 British soldiers at the Battle of Isandlwana.
During the last days of World War II, the British Merchant Navy ship Mount Kyle is torpedoed by a German U-Boat off the coast of Venezuela. The crew are subsequently massacred as they abandon ship, leaving one survivor, an Irish engineer named Murphy (Peter O’Toole). After being rescued by Louis Brezon (Philippe Noiret), a caretaker for an oil company which has a pipeline in the area, he is taken to a local missionary medical facility run by Dr. Hayden (Siân Phillips). Upon recovering, Murphy becomes determined to find the U-Boat that sank his ship and seeks revenge. However, as the war is clearly drawing to a close Dr. Hayden is reluctant to help him and tries to dissuade him from his plan as it may endanger the local community. In the meantime, Murphy finds a damaged Grumman J2F Duck floatplane from his ship and salvages it. With the assistance of Louis, he makes some improvised munitions and draws his plans against the Germans.
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.
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.
It was hardly surprising that the movie adaptation of Chris Kyle's autobiography American Sniper, would cause controversy. The Iraq war, US Foreign Policy and national pride are seldom subjects that are discussed in a calm and measured fashion. And then there are the personal politics of director Clint Eastwood to consider. Hence there were claims from some quarters upon the movie’s release, that it was Islamophobic and counter claims that criticisms of the late Chris Kyle were unpatriotic. There still remain issues regarding the authenticity of events depicted in the source text and subsequently the movies screenplay by Jason Hall. Yet none of these factors have in anyway impacted upon the film's box office returns which currently stands at $247,900,417 worldwide.
There are many films about war. There are many films about the Vietnam war. A few have transcended mere historical depiction and managed to capture the utter horror and political insanity of the situation, along with the tragic human cost. And then there are those which simply seek to use the setting as a vehicle for an exploitation movie, in the hope of making a fast buck. The Last Hunter (L'ultimo cacciatore) falls firmly into the second camp. This Italian "macaroni combat" movie (yes, I didn’t know that’s a thing either) offers a straight forward tale of an incursion behind enemy lines by an officer charged with destroying a radio transmitter, broadcasting anti-US propaganda. It is violent, action packed and surprisingly honest about what sort of film it is. You’ll find no pretentious philosophical musings here. Just explosions, rotting corpses and Viet Cong booby traps.
There are times when watching the third instalment of the contemporary Planet of the Apes franchise that you feel like your experiencing something akin to Terrence Malick's The Thin Red Line. There is a narrative depth and an intelligence to the screenplay that you seldom see these days coming from a major studio production. As with the original movies, the story makes multiple subtle points about the nature of humanity and our self-destructive tendencies. Yet it’s all done in a thought full and measured fashion. If you wish to treat War for the Planet of the Apes as simply a science fiction action movie then you will certainly be provided with such a film. However, if you choose to engage your intellect and ponder some of the deeper aspects of the story you’ll be rewarded with much more.
Darkest Hour, unlike many other biopics, focuses specifically on the initial weeks of Winston Churchill’s first term of office as Prime Minister, in May 1940. It paints a picture of an unwanted leader who inherits the role due to political expediency, rather than through universal support. Considered by the King as a dangerous adventurer and overshadowed by previous policy failures such as the Gallipoli landings and the Indian famine, Churchill is without allies and under pressure to appease the Germans. Director Joe Wright, sets the pieces on the chess board succinctly and within a few minutes audiences are brought up to speed with the prevailing historical situation. It is against this setting that that Darkest Hour then explores Churchills uphill struggle to rally a nation that appears to have no appetite for war and fend off political assassination. With the imminent defeat of the British Army in France and the prospect of a humiliating surrender at Dunkirk, should he seek a negotiated settlement with Germany, via Italian diplomatic sources?
Dunkirk is an extraordinary war movie, that eschews the traditional sprawling format of its predecessors, filled with celebrity cameos and contrived expositionary dialogue. Instead Christopher Nolan manages to embrace the concept of “show, don’t tell”, yet uses what little dialogue he has to succinctly punctuate the unfolding story with emotion and gravitas. There is a sense of spectacle, yet it is far from the stark and dispassionate CGI we usually see. Through creative and focused editing Nolan generates a palpable sense of tension, be it in the air with extraordinary aerial dogfights or on the ground as men flee sinking ships and dodge artillery fire. Dunkirk facilitates an intense and emotional journey during its lean 106 minute running time. It is altogether a remarkable piece of cinema.
In terms of its production values, Valkyrie is a throwback to the big budget war films of the sixties and seventies. However, that is where the similarities end. This is not a stylised action movie with the Nazis simply as a dramatic foil. Valkyrie focuses on facts, narrative and performances. Director Bryan Singer ensures that the true story that the film depicts is driven by the central characters. Overall Valkyrie is a very laudable production and although not an outstanding feature film, it is competently made, broadly historically accurate whilst and entertaining.
There was a wealth of revisionist Vietnam War films released in the wake of Oliver Stones’ Oscar winning Platoon. Not all were of equal merit or technical competence but occasionally a low budget B movie can surpass the big studio competition. The Siege of Firebase Gloria is one such example, being a minimalist, straightforward film about US Marines defending an isolated outpost in Vietnam, during the Tet offensive. Directed by British expatriate Brain Trenchard-Smith and starring R. Lee Ermey, Wings Hauser and Albert Popwell ("Hey, I've gots to know!"), it’s often been overlooked. However it’s low key plot which seeks no more than to show a small facet of the war, sheds more light upon the overall war and a soldier’s life than one would expect from such a modest production.
The Eagle Has Landed was veteran director John Sturges' final movie, whose body of work includes such classics as Bad Day at Black Rock, The Magnificent Seven and The Great Escape. Based on the bestselling book by Jack Higgins and adapted by Tom Mankiewicz, the film is a curious beast. It’s an in-depth character driven drama you would expect from such a veteran director, with the succinct and violent action scenes that were prevalent during the seventies. Although the phrase “they don’t make them like that anymore” is somewhat of a cliché, it is quite apt in the case of The Eagle Has Landed. Many of the crew as well as the producers hailed from the golden age of Hollywood.
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.
It is rewarding to find a movie that wrong-foots you and challenges your perceptions on certain subjects. White Tiger is exactly such a film. Starting of as a traditional war movie, the story quickly evolves into a supernatural revenge story with shades of Moby Dick. The final act and subsequent sting in the tail ending provides immense food for thought. It proposes an idea that many will find particularly challenging. However the film succeeds in making such a bold pitch because of its inherent Russian earnestness and the fact that that nation’s war experience is so subtly different from others.
Ennio (2021)
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.
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.
Morricone’s personal recollections of his youth and of his family’s poverty are candid. His Father, a trumpet player of some note, insisted his son learn music as a means to “put food on the table”. Morricone’s skill took him to the Saint Cecilia Conservatory to take trumpet lessons under the guidance of Umberto Semproni. He then went on to study composition, and choral music under the direction of Goffredo Petrassi. However, despite this very formal music education, Morricone took an innovative approach to his arrangements and would often use unorthodox sounds to add character to his work. During his tenure at RCA Victor as senior studio arranger, his contemporary approach found him working with such artists as Renato Rascel, Rita Pavone and Mario Lanza. As his reputation subsequently grew, composing for film became a logical and practical career progression. However, this was something that was looked down on by his more formal colleagues. A view that changed overtime as the calibre of his work became undeniable.
Ennio features a wealth of soundbites from prior interviews and new ones, from old friends, fellow musicians and admirers. Some are profound, some gush and others are curious by sheer dint of their inclusion. The views of Bruce Springsteen are somewhat hyperbolic and Paul Simonon makes a single obvious statement. However the insight we gain from classical composer Boris Porena is extremely thoughtful and interesting. As are the views of Hans Zimmer and Mychael Danna. There are also numerous personal anecdotes from assorted collaborators, including Joan Baez, Paolo and Vittorio Taviani as well as Roland Joffé. Baez recalls how Morricone intuitively wrote for her entire vocal range. The Taviani brothers reflected upon how they were at odds with the maestro only to be totally won over by work. Joffé reflects how Morricone wept when he saw The Mission, stating it didn’t need a score. Often it is Morricone’s own recollections that are the most intriguing. For someone of such exceptional talent he remains grounded, sincere and protective of his craft.
Director Giuseppe Tornatore naturally focuses on his own collaborations with Morricone, especially Cinema Paradiso, but overall Ennio is about the man, his philosophy and his joy of music. Some critics have inferred that this documentary is too Italian-centric but that is a crass complaint. Sixty years of Italian culture, both artistically and politically, are reflected in Morricone’s work. Hence there is significance in the reminiscences of Italian pop stars contracted to RCA who owe their success to Morricone’s innovative arrangements and production values. Ennio also features several anecdotes that are surprising and revealing, such as how the maestro missed an opportunity to write the soundtrack for Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange. Long and at times a little overwhelming, Ennio is a fitting tribute to the great composer. It is also a testament to the skills of editor Massimo Quaglia for cogently assembling such a vast amount of information and sentiment into a coherent narrative.
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: Star Trek First Contact
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.
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.
Jerry Goldsmith returned to the franchise in 1995, writing the dignified and portentous Star Trek: Voyager theme. Again this succinctly showed the importance the producer’s of the franchise attached to his work. Then in 1996 Goldsmith wrote the score for Star Trek: First Contact. Again his music demonstrates his ability to imbue the film’s narrative themes and visual effects with an appropriate sense of awe and majesty. Although contemporary in his outlook, with an inherent ability to stay current, Goldsmith had studied with some of the finest composers from the golden age of Hollywood. Hence, there are a few cues from First Contact where the influence of the great Miklós Rózsa are quite apparent and beautifully realised. Fans will argue that his score for Star Trek: The Motion Picture is his greatest work in relation to the franchise but I think that the soundtrack for Star Trek: First Contact has more emotional content.
The track “First Contact” which comes at the climax of the film is in many ways the highlight of the entire score. Goldsmith uses English and French horns as Picard and Data reflect upon the nature of temptation after defeating the Borg Queen. When the alien vessel lands and its crew disembarks to make first contact, the melody takes on a profoundly ethereal and even religious quality, especially when the church organ reiterates the theme. This reaches a triumphant peak when it is revealed that the first visitors to Earth are Vulcan. The cue then takes a melancholy turn as Picard and Lily bid a touching farewell. “First Contact” is a sublime six minutes and four seconds which demonstrates why Jerry Goldsmith was such a superb and varied composer. It not only highlights his legacy to Star Trek but also his status as one of the best film composers of his generation.
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.
Complex Lore and Enigmatic Themes
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.
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.
Fantasy, science fiction and similar hybrid genres thrive on world building and lore. These facets give them credibility and breathe life into fictional worlds and people. They also provide parallels with our own lives which provides a means for us to connect to them. Star Wars, despite all the technology, offers a universe that looks used and lived in. Middle-earth is steeped in history and complex societies. Again despite obvious differences there are commonalities in the hierarchies, rituals and personal aspirations of the protagonists. And as well as lore, there are also enigmas. Fantasy and science fiction are often rife with things that are strange and ill defined. Often these are mystical and symbolic. The Force, Tom Bombadil and Jason Voorhees are prime examples of this. Successful fantasy and science fiction find the right balance between detailed lore and enigmatic themes.
Achieving this balance is very difficult. The original Star Wars trilogy handled the arcane and esoteric nature of the Force well. It was broadly defined as an energy field created by all life that connected everything in the universe. However, the specifics of this were vague and nebulous which played well with the concept that the Jedi were more of a religious and philosophical order than a paramilitary organisation. However, when the prequels introduced the concept of Midi-chlorians it somewhat diminished the enigma surrounding the Force and it suddenly just became yet more technobabble. It is interesting to note that this addition to the franchise’s lore was not well received by fans. It was subsequently not alluded to in later films and television shows, indicating that the producers and writers felt it was a mistake.
Another genre example of lore versus enigma is the difference in Klingon anatomy between the original series and the revival shows. The main reason is simple. There wasn’t a budget for complex prosthetics in the sixties show. However, from Star Trek: The Motion Picture onwards, Klingons acquired their forehead ridges as a way to make them more alien. This however left a lore contradiction, which was beautifully alluded to in the episode “Trials and Tribble-ations” of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. Several crew members from the 24th century including Worf, find themselves on Deep Space Station K7 in the 23rd century, during the events of “Trouble with Tribbles”. Upon seeing the Klingons from the previous era, one of the crew asks Worf why there’s a physical difference. He enigmatically replies “We do not discuss it with outsiders”. This beautifully vague but droll answer works perfectly. Sadly it was ruined a few years later when an episode of Star Trek: Enterprise explained away the difference as a genetic experiment that went wrong.
However, it is not always an excess of lore that can quash the soul from a popular show or film. Sometimes being deliberately too vague, refusing to expedite the plot and simply replacing one mystery with two others can be very frustrating. It may also be due to the writers being out of their depth or making things up as they go along. Lost encapsulated this for me and the show’s manipulative narrative quickly killed my interest. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like to be spoon fed stories and explanations and I don’t mind thinking when watching. The ending of John Carpenter’s The Thing is enigmatic and quite bleak but I consider it a perfect conclusion to the film. However, perhaps the television show that really stepped over the line for not making any real effort to explain itself and turning the enigma “up to 11” is The Prisoner. It’s still a great show to watch and is very thought provoking but the final episode doesn’t deliver a stone cold conclusion. Something that people who watched it originally still seethe over.
We live in a culture of binge watching TV shows which some viewers dissect and analyse. The interconnected nature of the Marvel Cinematic Universe is a prime example of this and it does it extremely well. But not all television shows and films are like this and do not require such scrutiny. I worry that some viewers are so invested in searching for what they think may be hidden or trying to pre-empt an unfolding narrative, that they miss being in the moment and simply enjoying the show as it happens. Excessive analysis often leads to disappointment. It is important to remember that what you’re watching is a writer(s) thoughts on how a narrative should move forward. They are not obliged to try to make what’s in your or my head. Therefore I see both lore and enigmatic themes as an embellishment to a good fantasy or science fiction show or film. Things to be enjoyed but not the “be-all and end-all” of the production. If either becomes the major focus of either the writers or fans then it will end up undermining the central narrative and themes.
Star Trek Axanar is back in the news, twelve years on from the last controversy. For those unfamiliar with the original debacle, in 2014 Prelude to Axanar was released via YouTube. This Star Trek “fan-film” presented as a faux 21-minute, Starfleet documentary was very well received by fans and was intended by its makers as a proof of concept for a feature-length film. Set in the year 2245, during the final year of the Four Years War against the Klingons, Prelude to Axanar pushed the boundaries of what a fan film could be. The subsequent Kickstarter and Indiegogo campaigns raised more than $1.1 million. Prelude to Axanar was promoted as a professional-quality, “independent” Star Trek production, employing experienced actors and filmmakers and even established its own studio facilities. The presence of such actors as Richard Hatch, J. G. Hertzler, Kate Vernon, Tony Todd and Gary Graham (resuming his role as Vulcan Ambassador Soval) certainly made Prelude to Axanar distinct from other fan-films.
Thoughts on TV shows and my current viewing habits.
I last wrote a blog post in this series back in February 2022. Then for various reasons, I stopped. Possibly because my relationship with TV has changed in recent years. It’s fair to say at present that viewers are spoilt for choice. There are lots of very good shows around. Conversely, there is also a lot of bland, generic, filler as well. I appreciate that not every television series has to be an industry milestone and there are times when I’m content to watch undemanding content. However, I am very protective of how I spend my leisure time at present. I am not prepared to sink 6 or 8 hours into a show that is just “okay”. Hence I’m becoming very particular about what I watch. If something isn’t working for me in any fashion then I just abandon it and am happy to do so.
There has been a resurgence of people playing Star Wars Battlefront II recently. Possibly because the game was discounted on many outlets on May 4th and may be due to the success of Andor season 2. There’s a lot more people streaming it as well as videos on YouTube. Whatever the reason, it is always good to see a deserving game enjoying a renaissance. Star Wars Battlefront II was blighted at launch, back in November 2017 by some egregious business decisions and it took nearly a year for the game to recover from the negative publicity and player animosity. Setting this historical debacle aside for one moment, there was always a handsome and engaging game to be found. One that used the licensed intellectual property well. Which is why I recently reinstalled the game and resumed playing its multiplayer mode.
Season 2 of Andor has received praise from both critics and fans alike. It finally seems to have put to bed the common argument that Star Wars as a franchise has traditionally been light on narrative depth, character development and the exploration of the themes that its main story is predicated upon. Andor shows the realities of opposing authoritarian regimes and exists within shades of grey, rather than purille, binary positions. Many have drawn parallels with the current state of geopolitics, especially that of the United States. I certainly found the second season of Andor to be engaging and thought provoking. I also enjoyed the performances of many of the British actors who by default are cast in all the major Empire roles. I thought Anton Lesser was especially noteworthy as a senior officer in the Imperial Security Bureau.
We all knew it had to happen sooner or later. According to reports, Lucasfilm is planning to reduce its Star Wars related output on Disney+. Specifically, from 2025 there will be only one live-action television series per year. For comparison, Disney+ commissioned three shows in 2022 and two shows in both 2023 and 2024. It should be noted that this reduced output doesn’t include animated shows. It would appear that senior management at Disney have finally figured out something most of us have known for a while. That saturating the market with content based upon a specific intellectual property, is ultimately detrimental to its popularity and financial viability. To use an old adage “familiarity breeds contempt”. At present, hardcore fans are “unhappy” with the way the IP is being developed, while casual fans are somewhat burned out by the excess of content and its varying quality.
Andor is not like other entries in the Star Wars canon. It explores the human, social and political consequences of rebelling against an oppressive, totalitarian regime. The writing is intelligent and well observed, choosing to focus on the average citizens of the Empire and the nature of their daily lives. Andor also explores the ineffectual politicians and the way the senate are self serving and ultimately impotent. The Emperor is remote and instead we see how Imperial colonialism works at a grassroots level. It is an all too familiar depiction, born out of historical fact, such as Vichy France during World War II. Petty thugs and aspiring psychopaths happily align themselves with their Imperial overlords and actively oppress their own people. As for the Empire, and in particular the ISB (Imperial Security Bureau) it is rife with infighting, personal fiefdoms and all the flaws of similar institutions from the real world.
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.
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.
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.
As of today, the final episode of The Book of Boba Fett has aired on Disney + and this spinoff show from The Mandalorian has finished its first season. It has been a curious seven part story and not at all what I was expecting. Initially focusing upon the trials and tribulations of the iconic Bounty Hunter Boba Fett as he fights for Jabba the Hutt’s former territory, the story creatively explained what happened to him after he was swallowed by the Sarlacc. However, the plot took an unexpected turn focusing upon the fate of Din Djarin and Grogu from The Mandalorian, before the climatic final instalment. It’s certainly been an entertaining ride but the show’s somewhat eclectic nature has been a little confusing. Having a dedicated story about Boba Fett and then undermining it by focusing upon other iconic characters seems somewhat contradictory. Thankfully, the final episode put both shows back on track.
In my youth, I took my fandom very seriously. I would brook no criticism of the various objects of my affection. I would robustly defend them in lengthy forum comments, filled with the sort of detail and lack of self awareness that only an ardent fan can bring to bear. Nowadays, it’s a different story altogether (insert Airplane gag here). I still enjoy Thunderbirds, Star Trek, The Lord of the Rings but I do not consider them unassailable, sacred cows. If other’s scorn them, that is their prerogative. Age not only brings you more keys and things that require charging, it also grants the realisation that it doesn’t matter what others think. Furthermore, reboots, reimaginings and revivals cannot harm your memories or “ruin your childhood”. Has Gus Van Sant’s ill conceived 1998 remake of Psycho harmed in any way Hitchcock’s classic original. Any answer other than “no” is at the least spurious and at worst naval gazing bullshit, served on a platter of hyperbole and attention seeking.
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”.
Star Trek: The Motion Picture is a wonderful paradox in the Star Trek cinematic pantheon. It is possibly the most hardcore science fiction story that the franchise has explored and is both simultaneously Trek-like and un-Trek-like. Director Robert Wise and the production team worked hard to deliver a completed film for the scheduled December 1979 release date. However, he felt that the theatrical version was only a “rough cut”. Hence in late 2001 he supervised a Director’s Edition of the film which runs 136 minutes (4 minutes longer than the theatrical release)and reinstates some additional scenes and replaces some of the optical effects with new CGI creations. Critics were divided as to whether the Director’s Edition improved the film overall but Wise felt that this version was much closer to his original vision. The Director’s Edition was released exclusively on DVD in standard definition.
Fan Edits are a curious film sub genre. Some simply reinstate deleted scenes to maximise the running time of a movie. Others will remove footage and seek to reorder events in the name of coherency. But a few are far more ambitious. Rather than just reshape what is there, they will shoot new footage to replace material deemed substandard and seek to totally reimagine a movie. On even rarer occasions a few manage to actually improve upon the original, rather than just offering an augmented version. Which leads me onto Star Trek: beyond the Barrier, an interesting and very enjoyable fan edit of Star Trek V: The Final Frontier by Anti-Matter from deLimited Productions. It attempts to repair many of the problems found in the theatrical release of the movie. Some would argue that such a task is a Kobayashi Maru test in itself. However, the results are surprisingly good and some tongue in cheek humour shows that the creator understands the nature of their task.
Over the years, I have had what I would describe as an ever diminishing relationship with Star Wars as a franchise. I grew up with the original trilogy, seeing them all when they were originally released. Those three films were a wonderful, self-contained story. I also broadly enjoyed aspects of the Expanded Universe, as it was confined to other mediums such as books or comics. Hence it was an optional extra, as it were. Sadly, over the years, the additional film trilogies proved to be inferior products that suffered under the weight of their own ever expanding lore. The fetishisation of the hardware, actions scenes and overall aesthetic by both the filmmakers and the fans, came at the expense of good narrative content and character development. The one film that tried to take the franchise in a more mature and thoughtful direction, The Last Jedi, proved controversial and divisive. Overall it was the animated TV show Rebels that best showed an understanding of the franchise.
Welcome to the second part of my Star Trek Online: Beginners Guide. I thought it may be useful to write a series of posts, offering practical information for those who are just starting out in STO. Nothing fancy or in any way definitive. Just a few basic tips that may help orientate the new player. I’ve been playing STO since its launch in 2010 and this MMO has seen a lot of changes. The game features a lot of systems and mechanics that are not always immediately intuitive to grasp. So I’ll be doing my best to cover a selection of these in each post and try to provide a broad overview. Like a lot of advice, it can be subjective. Ultimately it comes down to each player how they wish to play. In this instalment, I shall be writing about career paths, factions and races.
Today is Star Trek Day. An officially sanctioned celebration of all things Star Trek. The date reflects the launch of the original television show, back in the sixties. Naturally, there are a multitude of events going on over at the official Star Trek website. And as ever, the MMORPG Star Trek Online is taking part in the celebrations. “On September 8th, 1966, the world first met a group of people, and a ship, that would change our lives forever. Pitched as “wagon train to the stars,” and brought to TV by the force of Lucille Ball’s will, Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek hit tiny television screens around the world and immediately captured hearts and minds. Through three seasons, and decades in syndication, The Original Series started a movement that still lasts today, more than half a century later. We live in a time where there’s more new Star Trek than ever before, and we’re joining with the rest of our Star Trek Family to celebrate the franchise’s birthday”.
I’ve mentioned in the past that a lot of important information regarding the MMORPG Star Trek Online is centralised within the official subreddit. That’s fine if you enjoy using this platform but it’s not for everyone. I’ve always found Reddit somewhat esoteric and I don’t really like the way it visually displays information. I have to use a browser addon to make it more user friendly. Unlike other communities, STO does not seem to have that many fan produced blogs. However, I may be wrong regarding this, so feel free to correct me (and provide URLs). In the meantime, I thought it may be useful to write a series of simple guides, offering practical information for those who are new to STO. Nothing fancy or in any way definitive. Just a few basic tips that may help orientate the new player. This time we’re going to look at the business model for STO and the cost of playing the game.
Two years ago The Last Jedi was released to mixed reviews. A vocal percentage of fans complained bitterly about various aspects of the movie. Some of their assertions such as the episodic pacing of parts of the story had merit. While other criticisms regarding diversity and gender categorically did not. However, Disney were cognisant of the fact that Star Wars fans were not universally enthralled by the movie although it turned a healthy profit. And then the following Easter Solo “underperformed” at the box office and journalists started talking about how the franchise had overreached itself and was in decline. Alarm bells obviously went off at board level and something had to be done. It would appear that The Rise of Skywalker is very much a movie designed to put the franchise back on track and wrap up the narrative proceedings of the last 42 years. However, there is a cost in offering such a colossal “fan service”. The latest instalment starts at a breakneck pace and continues in that idiom for over two hours. Action scenes, canonical references and homages are piled on, one after another. But narratively things are somewhat thin, recycling ideas and concepts from earlier movies. Some of the plot devices are never explained and therefore seem somewhat contrived. The Rise of Skywalker is most certainly entertaining. But it requires its core audience to be forgiving and to a degree complicit in its indulgences and failings.
I will try and keep this post as brief as possible because rants and tirades aren’t as funny as many writers think they are. Rather than “frothing at the mouth” I think a more accurate description of my feelings can be summed up just by a deep sigh and a shake of the head. So, where to begin? Well during the course of the day, several memes, humorous quips and oblique references appeared in my Twitter timeline featuring the phrase “Maclunkey”. As the joke didn’t immediately become apparent and I couldn’t reference the phrase (I initially thought it was about the band Mclusky) I took to Google to find out what this was all about. I like to keep abreast as to what are the current talking points online and I don’t want to be that old guy who doesn’t understand “the kids of today” or “that there interweb”. Fortunately, a brief internet search provided a clear answer. I shall now attempt to distil the relevant facts for the benefit of those who are still in the dark.
Peter Mayhew was working as an Orderly in the radiology department of King's College Hospital, London in 1976 when he was “discovered” by George Lucas. Lucas was looking to find someone suitably tall to play the Wookie Chewbacca in Star Wars. Legend has it that Mayhew simply stood up from his seat to great Lucas and immediately clinched the part. The rest they say is history. Peter Mayhew went on to play the role in another five movies, and despite not gaining the immediate fame of regular actors, became a firm favourite among fans at conventions. He was also held in very high regard by his professional acting peers. As for the role of Chewbacca, he made it his own and approached the character seriously and with genuine love. Despite a lack of conventional dialogue, Mayhew imbued Chewbacca with a personality and a distinctive sense of style. No mean achievement for a man who never intended for any of this to happen.
Out of the original seventy-nine episodes of Star Trek, one of the most respected and beloved is The City of the Edge of Forever. Written by Harlan Ellison the story is one of the more thoughtful and tragic in Trek Canon. It was also the first episode to feature a temporal plotline. Doctor Leonard McCoy (DeForest Kelley) accidently receives an overdose of medication and flees the Enterprise while in a delusional state. Beaming down to an alien planet he uses a temporal gateway (The Guardian of Forever) to travels back in time to earth during the Great Depression. By doing so he accidentally changes history. Captain Kirk (William Shatner) and Spock (Leonard Nimoy) follow him through the gateway to New York in hope of correcting the timeline. While awaiting the arrival of McCoy, Kirk falls in love with Edith Keeler (Joan Collins) who runs the 21st Street Mission. However he and Spock soon determine that to restore the timeline they must allow her to die.
There has been a degree of controversy over the Discovery Operation Pack that has recently been made available for purchase in Star Trek Online. The bundle featuring ships, bridge officers, cosmetic items and more is displeasing some core players who feel that it is over priced and lacks anything relevant for Romulan and Klingon races. Personally, I’m only interested in two specific items from the pack, such as the Tier 6 Gagarin Miracle Worker Battlecruiser and the combat pet Tardigrade but at present they cannot be purchased separately. So, I shall not be parting with any money at present. The Gagarin Miracle Worker Battlecruiser is relatively similar to the Tucker Tactical Miracle Worker Cruiser, which I already own. However, it is an improvement aesthetically speaking (a subjective point, admittedly), so for me the obvious compromise is to purchase the fleet version and forgo the unique space trait and settle for an additional console slot. As I’m not a high-end player, the look and feel of a ship has as much appeal to me as its stats.
I have suffixed the title of this post “and stuff” so I can address several Star Trek Online related thoughts in a single blog post. Despite the fact that I frequently play STO it is does oddly get neglected in my writing. So, let us start with the issue of the ninth anniversary. As ever Q is back with the anniversary event and once again, we are stabilising Omega Molecules. This year’s reward is a Tier 6 Vulcan T’Pau Scout Ship. There are also emotes and sundry other items to earn during the duration of the festivities, but I more interested in the anniversary itself. Not many MMOs make it to nine years and if they do, they aren’t necessarily in as good shape as STO. The game has a stable and loyal playerbase and is currently tied-in to Star Trek: Discovery. Further established Trek actors are supplying voice acting and the game seems to be doing well across both PC and consoles. Like LOTRO, STO uses the IP well and seems to “fill in the gaps” in the existing lore as well as expand and extrapolate established canon. One of the best things about STO is that there’s always something to do in-game as well as new content in the pipeline. Perhaps this along with the handling of the IP is why the game endures.
I was perusing the net recently and came across a story about how a Star Wars fan film that had built up a head of steam online, has been slapped with a copyright strike from Disney. Nothing unusual there as the company is virtually legendary with respect to its litigious proclivities. However, someone over a Lucasfilm interceded and got the strike lifted, because the fan film creator had allegedly sought prior permission and supposedly received it. George Lucas has always maintained an equitable attitude towards fan usage of the Star Wars IP, something he tried to impress upon Disney when he sold the rights to them back in 2012. But it is very difficult to have a balanced discussion about George Lucas as the man is such a paradox. On one hand he is possibly one of the greatest contributors to twentieth century pop culture and has influenced a generation of film makers, writers and fans. On the other he is the man who single headedly has managed to queer his own pitch, with the way he has continuously tinkered with his body of work and appended it with supplemental material that many deemed substandard or to the detriment of the original. He is also still vilified in some quarters for his business arrangement with Disney.
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.
I’ve written in the past about the problems that can arise from untempered fandom. If enthusiasm and inspired love are not balanced by contextual reason and a healthy dose of reality, then it can get a little bit over zealous. Need I cite Star Wars fans and The Last Jedi as an example of unchecked fandom. However, I am now going to stray a little into the “Twilight Zone” of fandom myself, although I shall attempt to apply a healthy dose of realism into the proceedings. Because I want to discuss the fact that Ethan Peck has been cast to play one of the most iconic characters in popular culture. Yes, Gregory Peck’s grandson (and there’s plenty of “baggage” there) has been cast to play Spock in season two of Star Trek: Discovery. Furthermore, rather than be concerned, I am very excited by this development and I really look forward to seeing how this pans out.
Naïve (adjective): (of a person or action) showing a lack of experience, wisdom, or judgement. I have chosen this word over delusional, foolish or puerile in an attempt to keep this post measured and level headed. Because this is a discussion about fandom and it’s a subject that is seldom driven by cool, even handed, mature reflection. Fandom is about passion, strong emotional connections and a sense of community. These can be and often are positive things. Yet fandom can also be about myopia, zealotry and gate-keeping. Something that that is supposed to bring people together can degenerate into a “them and us” scenario. Just another binary, tribal, world view that screams at anyone or anything that is not “the same”. And in recent years, due to the internet and social media, fandom has now developed an erroneous sense of ownership. By loving something and venerating it, you (allegedly) have an inherent stake in it and a right to say how it evolves. Which leads me neatly on to “Remake the Last Jedi” movement and the staggering naivety that underpins it.
The King's Man (2021)
As a collection of history's worst tyrants and criminal masterminds gather to plot a war to wipe out millions, one man must race against time to stop them. Discover the origins of the very first independent intelligence agency in The King's Man. Based on the Comic Book “The Secret Service” by Mark Millar and Dave Gibbons. 20th Century Studios
Matthew Vaughn’s The King’s Man is an inconsistent film, both narratively and tonally. It veers between serious themes and stylised, hyperbolic action. At times it does quite a good job of exploring such complex subjects as global politics, mechanised warfare and colonialism. Sadly it then wrenches the viewer out of these cerebral reveries as it lapses into the sort of over the top action sequences that were notable in the two earlier films. It’s a shame because The King’s Man gets so many other aspects of the production right. The casting is very interesting, especially Ralph Fiennes as the “pacifist” Duke of Oxford. He is actually a very good fit for the action genre. Djimon Hounsou and Gemma Arterton are given little backstory beyond being respectively the faithful manservant and the family nanny but both are notable due to their own inherent acting chops and personal charisma. Rhys Ifans obviously has a great time as Grigori Rasputin, ensuring all the man’s vices are robustly depicted.
As a collection of history's worst tyrants and criminal masterminds gather to plot a war to wipe out millions, one man must race against time to stop them. Discover the origins of the very first independent intelligence agency in The King's Man. Based on the Comic Book “The Secret Service” by Mark Millar and Dave Gibbons. 20th Century Studios
Matthew Vaughn’s The King’s Man is an inconsistent film, both narratively and tonally. It veers between serious themes and stylised, hyperbolic action. At times it does quite a good job of exploring such complex subjects as global politics, mechanised warfare and colonialism. Sadly it then wrenches the viewer out of these cerebral reveries as it lapses into the sort of over the top action sequences that were notable in the two earlier films. It’s a shame because The King’s Man gets so many other aspects of the production right. The casting is very interesting, especially Ralph Fiennes as the “pacifist” Duke of Oxford. He is actually a very good fit for the action genre. Djimon Hounsou and Gemma Arterton are given little backstory beyond being respectively the faithful manservant and the family nanny but both are notable due to their own inherent acting chops and personal charisma. Rhys Ifans obviously has a great time as Grigori Rasputin, ensuring all the man’s vices are robustly depicted.
The problem lies with The King’s Man essentially trying to do too much and cover too much ground in its 130 minute running time. First it’s a father-son film and then it’s a revisionist history drama like Trantino’s Inglourious Basterds. Then it hastily tries to establish the backstory of the Kingsman Independent Intelligence Service. As a result director Matthew Vaughn struggles to maintain a consistent style and tone. He does provide some creative flourishes especially with the subplot relating to Conrad Oxford, the Duke’s son who wishes to serve his country and play his part in World War I. There is a sense of impending doom as Conrad (Harris Dickinson) heads towards an inevitable personal tragedy but the way it manifests itself is quite a surprise. This culminates in a genuinely moving scene at the end of the film’s second act. However, it is quickly mitigated by the directors interpretation of historical events and choosing to depict the tragedy and slaughter of WW I as a petty squabble between an international family.
The King’s Man is certainly a better film than its predecessor; Kingsman: The Golden Circle (2017). That was a poorly conceived project, ruined by the presence of Eltom John and the mean spirited way in which Merlin (Mark Strong) was so ignominiously killed off. Although Matthew Vaughn is clearly a creative film director who has a natural affinity to genre source material, he does strike me as someone who would be well served by a trusted associate who knows him well enough to curb his excesses. Both previous films in this series were blighted by some singularly unpalatable and obsolete sexual humour that would be more at home in a seventies “eroitic adventure” such as Confessions of a Window Cleaner. This error is not repeated in The King’s Man but instead Vaughn often comes a little too close to trivialising the human tragedy of WWI. There’s also a mid-credit coda that is very ill judged, especially in light of more recent events. Watch with discretion and be prepared to “hold your nose” if you are overly politically sensitive. The action is good.
The action, open world RPG Crimson Desert has been patched five times since it launched on March 19th and there have also been multiple hotfixes. At first glance this isn’t anything unusual. New games have bugs and issues arise once a game is released and played across a much wider variety of hardware than in QA testing. However, if you read the patch notes that accompany these sizeable downloads it quickly becomes apparent that developer’s Pearl Abyss are not just addressing bugs and software glitches. They are actively engaging with their player base and responding to suggestions and requests from that community. Although this is not a unique approach, what is surprising is the speed and quantity in which these player driven changes are happening. There seems to be an active ongoing process to refine the game and eliminate some of its “rough edges” and the players are contributing to this process with their feedback.
I have been aware of the online interest around the open world action game Crimson Desert for a while now. One of the things that has intrigued me about it is the scope of the game. The word “hype” has been bandied about by a few gaming websites. However, from what I have observed, developers Pearl Abyss have not been excessively hyperbolic themselves, with regard to the manner in which the game’s systems and mechanics have been marketed. Now that the press embargo has been lifted, the pre-release reviews seem to confirm that everything we’ve seen in promotional videos in the run up to the launch, is in fact present in the game. So far the initial critical response has been very positive and it has been hinted that the game may well be a genre milestone. Perhaps Crimson Desert is just a rare example of a game that has not had a rushed development and isn’t launching prematurely for business reasons.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
After the success of Raiders of the Lost Ark in 1981, filmmakers scrambled to find existing intellectual properties that they could use for similar films. Hence archaic heroes such as Alan Quatermain were hastily given a modern makeover and thrust into generic movies, in a vague attempt to replicate Steven Spielberg’s successful formula. Which brings us neatly on to James Charles Bigglesworth AKA “Biggles”, a fictional pilot and adventurer from a series of books written by W. E. Johns between 1932 and 1968. Several attempts had been made in the past to bring this character to the silver screen, including one by Disney but they all failed. However, the commercial and critical success of Indiana Jones provided sufficient impetus to greenlight a new film. However, due to some curious production choices, when Biggles was finally released it was far from just a period set, action movie.
Setting aside the hubris of remaking a film such as Red Dawn, the 2012 reboot had a troubled production. Shot over the course of late 2009, on location in Michigan, MGM intended to release the film in September 2010. However, the studio’s financial problems became unsustainable over the course of that year and the film was shelved, while a financial solution was sought. Furthermore, while Red Dawn was in post production, there was a major economic shift within Hollywood due to the increasing importance of the Chinese market. This was a significant problem for MGM because the new version of Red Dawn had the Chinese invading the USA instead of Russia. Hence there were reshoots and the need for additional visual effects, so that the Chinese could be replaced with North Koreans. MGM eventually went bankrupt and the distribution rights to Red Dawn were sold off. The film was eventually released in 2012.
When I first saw the promotional trailer for Gangster Squad back in 2012, prior to its release, I wasn't especially impressed. I simply thought the film was another attempt to re-invent the gangster genre for a generation who were not especially familiar with it. I wasn't exactly overwhelmed with director Ruben Fleischer's resume either. I didn't particularly like Zombieland and haven't seen 30 Minutes Or Less. Then came the tragic mass shootings in Aurora, Colorado which led to the movie being delayed so that the original ending, which featured a shoot-out in a movie theatre, could be replaced. Hence when I finally watched this film recently, I wasn't expecting a movie up to the standards of say Once Upon A Time In America or Miller’s Crossing and it would seem that I was right do so. Gangster Squad is not especially noteworthy in any respect.
Levon Cade (Jason Staham) is a former Royal Marine Commando who has retired from military service and now works as the leader of a construction team in Chicago. He has a close relationship with Joe and Carla Garcia (Michael Peña and Noemi Gonzalez ) who run the company and considers them as family. Outside of work, Levon is involved in a bitter custody battle for his daughter, against her maternal grandfather, who blames Levon for his daughter’s suicide. When Garcia's teenage daughter Jenny (Arianna Rivas) goes missing, Levon reluctantly agrees to help her parents and get her back. Beginning his search at the nightclub where Jenny was last seen, he soon discovers that she was abducted by Russian traffickers. Furthermore, the culprit is Dimi Kolisnyk (Maximilian Osinski), the wayward son of a senior ranking gangster.
PC Nicholas Angel (Simon Pegg) is an exemplary Police Officer, with a strict adherence to the letter of the law. As a result of making the rest of the London Metropolitan Police look bad, he is transferred to the rural town of Sandford, Gloucestershire. On arrival, Angel finds that the local Inspector, Frank Butterman (Jim Broadbent), takes a far more laissez-faire approach to policing. His colleagues are incompetent and he is further hampered by the Neighbourhood Watch Alliance (NWA), who prioritise low crime statistics over law enforcement due to their desire to win the title of “Village of the Year”. Furthermore, Angel is partnered with the Inspector’s son, Constable Danny Butterman (Nick Frost), who is infatuated with “buddy cop” movies and is in awe of Angel’s London experience. “Have you ever fired two guns while jumping through the air?” However, a sudden spate of grisly accidents lead Angel to believe that there's more to the seemingly tranquil and picture-perfect community than meets the eye.
As a collection of history's worst tyrants and criminal masterminds gather to plot a war to wipe out millions, one man must race against time to stop them. Discover the origins of the very first independent intelligence agency in The King's Man. Based on the Comic Book “The Secret Service” by Mark Millar and Dave Gibbons. 20th Century Studios
Matthew Vaughn’s The King’s Man is an inconsistent film, both narratively and tonally. It veers between serious themes and stylised, hyperbolic action. At times it does quite a good job of exploring such complex subjects as global politics, mechanised warfare and colonialism. Sadly it then wrenches the viewer out of these cerebral reveries as it lapses into the sort of over the top action sequences that were notable in the two earlier films. It’s a shame because The King’s Man gets so many other aspects of the production right. The casting is very interesting, especially Ralph Fiennes as the “pacifist” Duke of Oxford. He is actually a very good fit for the action genre. Djimon Hounsou and Gemma Arterton are given little backstory beyond being respectively the faithful manservant and the family nanny but both are notable due to their own inherent acting chops and personal charisma. Rhys Ifans obviously has a great time as Grigori Rasputin, ensuring all the man’s vices are robustly depicted.
On paper, a video games franchise such as Assassin’s Creed lends itself perfectly to a cinematic adaptation. The parkour action scenes, the historical settings and the contemporary conspiracy theory themes are all elements that should play well with a modern youth audience. Hence with the backing of a major studio such as Twentieth Century Fox and a budget of $125 million, the 2016 movie should have been a guaranteed box office hit. The casting of Michael Fassbender, an actor who is comfortable with serious roles and big Hollywood franchises, should have carried this film comfortably over the finishing line. Director Justin Kurzel, who had found critical success with his adaptation of MacBeth a year previously, must have looked like a safe pair of hands to handle such a project. Sadly, that was not the case. Assassin’s Creed is not the sum of its parts, in fact many elements appear to be pulling in opposite directions. The resulting feature film is staggeringly dull, soulless and a chore to watch. A testament to how modern big budget franchise movies have become a production line, with all the art stripped from them.
300: Rise of an Empire is a curious beast, being neither a sequel nor a prequel. It is infact a tale that takes place simultaneously with those of the original movie. While Gerard Butler is busy making a last stand at the Battle of Thermopylae, fellow warrior and politician Themistokles, played by the singularly uncharismatic Sullivan Stapleton, leads a similar army of buffed Greeks against the Persian fleet. Once again we have a movie that is the epitome of style over substance, complete with a sound design that challenges what can physically be endured by human hearing. They say the first casualty of war is innocence but in this type of movie it's closely followed by historical accuracy and authentic depictions of ethnicity. 300: Rise of an Empire is a cinematic assault upon the senses but not in a good way like Mad Max: Fury Road.
Back in September 2017, Liam Neeson stated in an interview with Sky News that he was retiring from the action genre, due to his age. He felt that audiences would question his credibility in such roles. After the release of The Commuter (2018) and Cold Pursuit (2019) Mr Neeson appeared to return to human dramas and films that focus on performance rather than punching man and beast. Ordinary Love and Made in Italy, both released in 2019, demonstrate the actor’s versatility and skill. People seem to forget that he is a thespian who was initially known for his character driven roles in films such as The Mission (1986), Rob Roy (1995 and Michael Collins (1996). It was only in 2008 that he reinvented himself as an action hero. It’s all a far cry from Schindler’s List and his performance that earned him an academy award nomination. The reason I mention all of this is because The Ice Road is the third action movie I’ve seen in 2021 that stars Liam Neeson.
One of the stand out tropes of the modern action film is that the stakes are always cranked right up to 11. Terrorists, biological weapons and nuclear bombs are common threats in such movies with a hero or heroes trying to save the world from death and destruction or worse. However, back in the sixties and seventies, things were a little more straight forward and in some respects more credible. Take When Eight Bells Toll, released in 1971, for example. British Treasury secret agent Phillip Calvert investigates the theft of £8,000,000 in gold bullion by a gang of international smugglers. In the context of the times this was no small beer however it’s somewhat mundane compared to fighting super villains and their space lasers. Frankly I prefer these low key plot devices as they can make a film a little more plausible within the confines of the genre. A concept that is often forgotten today.
Forensic accountant Owen Casserly (Jake Weber) flees his home with his teenage son Connor (Finn Little) when he discovers he has been targeted by a pair of assassins (Nicholas Hoult and Aidan Gillen) who have been hired to stop him giving evidence in a major corruption case. Connor witnesses the murder of his father after their car is run off the road. Entrusted with important written evidence, he escapes into the dense forests of the Montana wilderness pursued by the killers. Seeking help he runs into smokejumper Hannah Faber (Angelina Jolie) who is stationed at a remote fire lookout tower. Hannah suffers from PTSD from a previous forest fire in which she was unable to save three young boys. Hannah attempts to lead Connor through the forest to safety. Meanwhile the assassins set fire to the forest to divert the attention of the authorities and cover their tracks.
I must admit that I did not have particularly high hopes for Paul W S Anderson's remake of the 1975 Roger Corman produced cult classic. Anderson’s work varies greatly. Event Horizon and Soldier are solid genre films but I still have not fully come to terms with Alien vs. Predator. Jason Statham is also a name that divides the public, with solid material such as The Transporter and unfathomable tosh like Revolver. But despite these considerations, Death Race is in fact quite a surprise and does not follow the path that so many remakes do. It takes the basic themes and concept associated with the original and tries to do something different with them. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel nor is it a genre milestone. But it does offer a different spin on things, have some engaging action scenes and provide some dumb but enjoyable entertainment. When combined with snacks and some beer this is a passable way to kill 111 minutes.
I did not watch Zero Dark Thirty upon its initial release, due to the politics surrounding it. I wanted to be able to view it free from bipartisan debate. Eight years on I believe this now achievable and although debate still exists it is now more measured and less strident. Zero Dark Thirty is certainly a compelling movie. It plays as a docudrama, providing an in-depth study of the US intelligence services hunt for Osama Bin Laden. It cannot be faulted on a technical level and the performances are very strong. It does not adopt a celebratory or triumphalist tone in its approach to the story. Director Kathryn Bigelow endeavours to keep the proceedings focused upon the intricacies of an intelligence driven manhunt. There is little or no tubthumping, jingoism. The decision to find Bin Laden is shown as a political and military exercise of foreign policy. The film solely focuses on the story from a US perspective but that is perfectly acceptable as it is not intended to be an exploration of geo-politics.
Firestorm was originally written as a vehicle for Sylvester Stallone, however when the production company Savoy Pictures went bankrupt the screenplay was bought by Twentieth Fox and the scope of the movie reduced to suit a lower budget. It’s broadly similar to Cliffhanger in so far as the lead character is a specialist in a certain field who runs afoul of criminals in a perilous environment. Whereas Cliffhanger is set in the Rocky Mountains, Firestorm takes place in the forests of Northern Wyoming. After the script was revised four times, the finished screenplay was given a final “polish” by Graham Yost who has considerable experience with the action movie genre. As stallone was no longer associated with the project and the production had been repurposed to be less extravagant, the movie was assigned to former NFL star Howie Long. Long had already appeared in the John Woo movie Broken Arrow (1996) and the Firestorm was seen as a means to give him a star vehicle.
The original French movies District 13 and its sequel District 13: Ultimatum, conceived and produced by Luc Besson, were enjoyable variations of the Escape from New York theme. Their charm lay in their European pedigree and the skilful use of parkour. The two leads, David Belle and Cyril Raffaelli, were eminently suited to the minimalist roles and the screenplays were fun. Half of these movies appeal was the fact that they were not mainstream US products. Brick Mansions is the Hollywood remake of District 13, as well as being Paul Walkers’ final movie. Sadly, this film is far from a fitting epitaph, being devoid of any charisma or innovations. It is blandly shot , poorly edited and has been stripped of everything that made the original entertaining.
Arnold Schwarzenegger's return to the big screen after his political career has been uneven to say the least. His cameos in The Expendables and The Expendables 2 were well received, with their self referential charm and age related irony. Yet his first major movie The Last Stand, although competent, failed to find an audience. Escape Plan fared better at the box office but did not put Arnie back on the A list. Effectively there's a large percentage of the contemporary cinematic audience who were born after his heyday and are simply not overt fans of his work. His core audience is more than likely of the age group that consume most of their film entertainment at home. Which may explain why Sabotage tanked in the US upon release on March 28th 2014. It was the worst opening box office of Arnie's career. He used to break first day opening records.
Sequels and reboots are hardly a new concept and have been a part of Hollywood culture since the 1930s. The success of the Universal Horror movies from that era being a prime example of direct follow ups and retconned movies. However, there is one fundamental rule that distinguishes a good sequel from a bad one. You should never mitigate, undermine or make irrelevant the events of the previous movie, just to provide your new film with a raison d'être. For example, the events of Aliens do not contradict or trivialise those that happened in Alien. In fact with that franchise there is a very clear logical progression between the two movies. The same is true for Mad Max and Mad Max 2 or Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back. The key is to progress a story, enhance it or explore things from an alternative angle and bring something new to the cinematic table. Sadly this philosophy is all too often lost on corporate film making. Which means that many sequels are just tedious replays of prior films. Terminator: Dark Fate falls squarely into this category.
The enduring appeal of the character John Rambo in First Blood comes from the fact that he is a traumatised ex- service man who keeps himself to himself as he drifts from job to job, trying to come to terms with his wartime experiences. His poor treatment at the hands of a small-town Sheriff is a succinct metaphor for the social and political indifference that Vietnam veterans were shown upon their return to the US. He’s a man with a code in a world that no longer has any use for him. His simple and honest patriotism is not returned and he is in fact viewed with shame by many from the nation he loves. Furthermore, the first movie does not paint him as a cold-blooded killer. Despite provocation he is not the first person to shoot to kill. Rambo is in many ways a victim. A broken man, who society has asked to do unspeakable things. Now society wants nothing to do with him and fears the “monster” they created. Although clearly an action movie, First Blood had narrative depth and a flawed but sympathetic protagonist. 37 years and four movies later, such dramatic themes have long left the franchise. The central character is indeed a caricature of its former self.
It was hardly surprising that the movie adaptation of Chris Kyle's autobiography American Sniper, would cause controversy. The Iraq war, US Foreign Policy and national pride are seldom subjects that are discussed in a calm and measured fashion. And then there are the personal politics of director Clint Eastwood to consider. Hence there were claims from some quarters upon the movie’s release, that it was Islamophobic and counter claims that criticisms of the late Chris Kyle were unpatriotic. There still remain issues regarding the authenticity of events depicted in the source text and subsequently the movies screenplay by Jason Hall. Yet none of these factors have in anyway impacted upon the film's box office returns which currently stands at $247,900,417 worldwide.
Do I really need to present you with some sort of plot synopsis for Transporter 3? No, I didn’t think so. More of the same as Frank Martin (Jason Statham) and his police chum, Inspector Tarconi (Francois Berleand) become embroiled in yet another high-octane escapade. There's fights, car stunts, exotic international locations and a strong sense of humour. This time, the disposable love interest is a Ukrainian girl named Valentina (Natalya Rudakova) who fulfils her role succinctly. The film benefits by being set back in Europe, after the mistake of basing Transporter 2 in the US. This time, the story takes us to such locations as Budapest and Odessa. The international film crew once again bring a veneer of panache to the production that is conspicuously absent in US action movies. For a modest budget fil, Transporter 3 it looks very good. Again the proceedings are given a boost by a pertinent soundtrack by Alexandre Azaria and a selection of European “tunes”.
Jason Bourne originally graced our screens for the first time seventeen years ago. The Bourne Identity was a gritty, minimalist take on the espionage genre and a welcome change from the excesses of the Pierce Brosnan Bond era. The story arc was sustained over three movies and ended efficiently and succinctly. After which Matt Damon moved on, as did the director of two of the movies, Paul Greengrass. Which leaves us with The Bourne Legacy; the tangential sequel that arrived in 2012. A film that exists because the money men and bean counters hate to pass up on a franchise until it has been squeezed utterly dry. Hence, they commissioned the writer of the series, Tony Gilroy, to come up with a screenplay and direct a spinoff movie. Jeremy Renner was cast in the lead role. Yet despite narrative and production continuity, The Bourne Legacy was not a Jason Bourne movie with the star appeal of Matt Damon. Although the film turned a profit, it had the lowest box office returns out of the entire franchise.
During the eighties there was a clear league table of action movie stars. By the mid-nineties this system fell into decline and the Hollywood lacked any clearly defined exponents of the genre. A decade later, due to the success of Luc Besson’s Transporter films, Jason Statham became a bankable box office star in this field. When you look at Statham's early work in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels it is hard to envisage the "mockney geezer" as an international action star. Yet he has successfully stepped into the role and enjoys a large following. I enjoy his work as he has a likeable on-screen persona. My 88-year-old Mum likes him to because "he wears nice suits". The action genre seldom reaches such a diverse demographic.
Before we start, I recollect that one well known UK critic described Safe House as sub-Tony Scott, upon its release. Now I’ve always been conflicted over Scott’s back catalogue, as I’ve always found his movies to be hampered by their own unique style. The subtleties of his characters and depth of his themes are all too often drowned out by his frenetic style and fast paced editing. Therefore a comment such as this really sets off alarm bells for me. Having recently watched The Equalizer 2, I wanted a further fix of Denzel Washington in a similar action vehicle. As Safe House was available on Netflix UK, I decided to kill a couple of hours and see what actually constitutes as “sub-Tony Scott”.
13 Assassins is one of Takashi Miike's most restrained and mature movies. Set in Feudal Japan and based on true events, a venerable clan suffers under the reign of the cruel young Lord Naritsugu (Goro Inagaki), who commits atrocities at will. Unable to break their oaths, the samurai are torn between duty and shame. Some of the masters in the clan even go so far as to commit Seppuku in protest. Unable to endure the status quo, a plan is formed to gather a small team of the deadliest samurai and assassinate Lord Naritsugu while he is travelling between clan territories. The responsibility falls upon Shinzaemon Shimada (Koji Yakusho) to take on this potentially fatal task. The matter is further complicated by Lord Naritsugu’s personal bodyguard (and Shimada’s former rival) master samurai Hanbei (Masachika Ichimura), who is a force to be reckoned with.
Adapted from the novel by Wilbur Smith, Shout at the Devil is the sort of big budget, sprawling, period set high adventure movie that has fallen out of vogue in recent decades. Its main attraction are its stars, location and robust action scenes. Crafted by former Bond director and long-time editor Peter Hunt, this is a full on, no nonsense character driven drama of the kind that were common place during the seventies. Sometimes the enormity of these sorts of productions meant that something suffered by omission. Be it a weak script, excessive set pieces or too many cameos by an all-star cast. Shout at the Devil broadly manages to avoid such pitfalls. There is however a notable tonal shift in the story about halfway through the film, which does take events in a different direction.
No Time to Die (2021)
Bond has left active service and is enjoying a tranquil life in Jamaica. His peace is short-lived when his old friend Felix Leiter from the CIA turns up asking for help. The mission to rescue a kidnapped scientist turns out to be far more treacherous than expected, leading Bond onto the trail of a mysterious villain armed with dangerous new technology.
Universal Pictures
The twenty fifth Bond film is a horse of a different colour but then again that adage could be applied to the last five instalments of the franchise. Bond has never had a continuous story arc or any major narrative continuity until Daniel Craig’s tenure as 007. Two Roger Moore films briefly alluded to Bond’s previous marriage as depicted in On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969). However, we should remember that Casino Royale (2006) was effectively a reboot of the entire franchise depicting Bond’s first mission as a recently commissioned 00 agent. As well as the tonal shift in the franchise regarding humour, violence and the role of agents in a modern world, the last five films have taken a far more personal interest into Bond. It has very much been about him as opposed to just his actions. Therein lies the rub as they say. Some fans have not warmed to this sort of character analysis, although the box office clearly shows that it has gone down well with the wider audience.
Bond has left active service and is enjoying a tranquil life in Jamaica. His peace is short-lived when his old friend Felix Leiter from the CIA turns up asking for help. The mission to rescue a kidnapped scientist turns out to be far more treacherous than expected, leading Bond onto the trail of a mysterious villain armed with dangerous new technology.
Universal Pictures
The twenty fifth Bond film is a horse of a different colour but then again that adage could be applied to the last five instalments of the franchise. Bond has never had a continuous story arc or any major narrative continuity until Daniel Craig’s tenure as 007. Two Roger Moore films briefly alluded to Bond’s previous marriage as depicted in On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969). However, we should remember that Casino Royale (2006) was effectively a reboot of the entire franchise depicting Bond’s first mission as a recently commissioned 00 agent. As well as the tonal shift in the franchise regarding humour, violence and the role of agents in a modern world, the last five films have taken a far more personal interest into Bond. It has very much been about him as opposed to just his actions. Therein lies the rub as they say. Some fans have not warmed to this sort of character analysis, although the box office clearly shows that it has gone down well with the wider audience.
No Time to Die is by far the most intimate Bond movie to date. This is about Bonds relationship with Dr. Madeleine Swann (Léa Seydoux) and the void in his life when they part acrimoniously. The story explores perennial themes of how people in specific lines of work sacrifice so much of themselves. For every action set piece, and there are plenty of these, there are an equal amount of dramatic scenes in which Bond searches his soul and considers his future. The Bond of the seventies and eighties was seldom this thoughtful but this is clearly the way the franchise has been going since 2006. Director Cary Joji Fukunaga clearly is enamoured with On Her Majesty's Secret Service and references it with the use of subtle dialogue homages. “We have all the time in the world” Bond states at the beginning of the film and it’s not long before Louis Armstrong’s iconic song is played. Later, perceptive viewers will hear a clever reworking of John Barry’s famous instrumental theme from the 1969 film, as M expedites the plot. Hans Zimmer’s score is suitably intelligent and musically literate.
There are several extremely good vehicular stunt sequences in No Time to Die, as well as some solid hand to hand fights which are bone crunching and gritty. Although the gunfights are relatively bloodless, there is a realistic and callous quality to them. Rami Malek is notable as Lyutsifer Safin and provides the audience with a more interesting Bond villain than usual. His motivations are not about “world domination” but are far more personal. His enforcer, Primo (played by Muay Thai martial artist champion Dali Benssalah) is far from charismatic but has some very effective fight sequences. No Time to Die does not skimp on action, globe trotting or conspicuous product placement. The regular cast of Ralph Fiennes, Naomie Harris, Rory Kinnear and Ben Wishaw are as ever, robust and stalwart and it is interesting to see the franchise embracing modernity and featuring Lashana Lynch as Nomi; the latest agent to bear the number 007.
The success of whether No Time to Die resonates with viewers ultimately hinges upon whether one buys into the concept of a more personal Bond movie. It’s all a far cry from the self deprecating humour and two dimensional characterisation of the Roger Moore era. Eon productions seem to have learned a lot from the Jason Bourne films and the importance of a lead character with a soul, rather than just a series of action set pieces and an archetype as a hero. I was initially thrown by the tone of No Time to Die but upon reflection it is a rather sophisticated and appropriate ending to Bond’s story arc which started with Casino Royale. I suspect this film may find wider approval upon subsequent viewings and in time be appraised in a comparable manner to On Her Majesty's Secret Service. It will be interesting to see what direction the franchise takes with the 26th instalment. However, before that happens a new Bond needs to be found. I suspect that won’t be a walk in the park, either logistically or critically.
Bond has left active service and is enjoying a tranquil life in Jamaica. His peace is short-lived when his old friend Felix Leiter from the CIA turns up asking for help. The mission to rescue a kidnapped scientist turns out to be far more treacherous than expected, leading Bond onto the trail of a mysterious villain armed with dangerous new technology.
Universal Pictures
The twenty fifth Bond film is a horse of a different colour but then again that adage could be applied to the last five instalments of the franchise. Bond has never had a continuous story arc or any major narrative continuity until Daniel Craig’s tenure as 007. Two Roger Moore films briefly alluded to Bond’s previous marriage as depicted in On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969). However, we should remember that Casino Royale (2006) was effectively a reboot of the entire franchise depicting Bond’s first mission as a recently commissioned 00 agent. As well as the tonal shift in the franchise regarding humour, violence and the role of agents in a modern world, the last five films have taken a far more personal interest into Bond. It has very much been about him as opposed to just his actions. Therein lies the rub as they say. Some fans have not warmed to this sort of character analysis, although the box office clearly shows that it has gone down well with the wider audience.
Over the Christmas Holidays, I inevitably watched a selection of James Bond movies because it is one of my seasonal rituals. As a child a Bond movie was always one of the TV highlights of Christmas or Boxing Day. Subsequently this habit has stuck with me over the years and so I dutifully watched On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, The Living Daylights and Licence to Kill. Naturally this raised my interest in all things Bond, so I decided to dust of the video game James Bond 007: Blood Stone. I originally bought this game upon release back in November 2010, unaware that the Bond franchise has always been an utter lottery when it comes to tie-in games. I initially played through it for a month or so, then deleted it from my hard drive. It was a classic example of me simply losing interest in a game and then removing it in one of my regular PC housekeeping exercises. To be fair I had a lot of other games on the go at the same time, so there was a good chance that I didn't give it the level of attention it deserved. So yesterday I decided to give it another go and re-installed the game via Steam. Thanks to the miracle of the internet, I downloaded the 9GB game in twenty minutes.
It's a curious thing that some of the most popular movie, TV and book franchises end up being made into the most tedious games. 007 Legends (released 2012) falls squarely into this category. It is woefully uninspired and lacking in any real substance. The previous game in the franchise, James Bond 007: Blood Stone released in 2010, was far from a masterpiece, but shines compared to the ineptitude of 007 Legends. Developers Eurocom seemed to have completely misjudged what it is about this particular intellectual property that the public enjoy. The results are a bastard hybrid FPS with just a thin veneer of 007 added to the proceedings. Curiously enough, this was the last game that Eurocom made before going out of business. Subsequently, 007 Legends has vanished from shelves and has been withdrawn from Steam. However, I still have a “hard” copy for the PC.
There's nothing better than being proved wrong and having your fears allayed. Sam Mendes was absolutely the right choice to direct the twenty third James Bond movie and delivered a film that embraces both the old and the new. Skyfall was an outstanding way to celebrate fiftieth anniversary of the franchise. This is one of the few occasions when the actual movie managed to live up to the respective hype and marketing. Skyfall is 143 minutes of pure Bond and much more. Seldom has series had this depth of story, characterisation and intelligence. It is a lot closer to Goldfinger than it is Moonraker and offers a fresh perspective on the iconic agent. This is not about defeating some villain in his volcano lair. Skyfall is about the very nature of espionage and the effects upon those who work in its twilight world.
Timothy Dalton is possibly the most technically accomplished and prestigious actor to have played the iconic MI5 agent, James Bond. He was in fact asked by Cubby Broccoli to play the role back in 1969 shortly after Connery's departure from the franchise. Broccoli had been impressed by Dalton’s performance in The Lion in Winter. However, Dalton himself felt he was too young for the job at the time. After Roger Moore retired from the role in 1985 it looked like Pierce Brosnan would certainly to get the part. However, due to contractual reasons and prior commitments, he was not unable to fulfil the proposed shooting schedule. So, Dalton landed what was at the time, the most prestigious action role in film making, by default.
Licence to Kill was the sixteenth instalment in the James Bond series and the last to star Timothy Dalton as MI6 agent James Bond. He sadly only made two and remains an underrated Bond. Licence to Kill was also the first official James Bond film to use a title not derived from either an Ian Fleming novel or a short story. However, it does contain characters and elements from Fleming's novel "Live and Let Die" and the short story "The Hildebrand Rarity". The film follows Bond's dismissal from MI6 and his vendetta against a South American drug baron. The film was originally due to be called "Licence Revoked" but was changed allegedly to avoid confusion with American audience
Becoming Bond is a curious documentary in so far as it’s totally dependent on whether the viewer believes the story that George Lazenby tells. Because George is obviously a well-practised raconteur one gets the impression that many of the anecdotes and vignettes he recounts have been embellished for artistic effect. He has that easy going, informal Australian charm and frequently smiles ironically, as director Josh Greenbaum, quizzes him off camera over the voracity of his tale. Mr. Lazenby also treads that fine line between being a likeable rogue and a bit of a dick, especially when he focuses on his youth. Yet he broadly keeps to the right side of this and maintains the audiences’ good will.
There are many subjects that when mentioned will quickly start an argument. Who’s the best Doctor Who? (and it isn’t David Tennant), do Balrogs have wings? (no, read the text again) and of course that old chestnut, “Data or Spock?”. Then there’s the thorny issue of Bond film title songs. We now have twenty-four to choose from. Obviously, your age group and musical preferences will shape your opinion. As well as when you started viewing the franchise. I personally have very particular views on the subject, hence this post. So here for your edification are five of my personal favourites, each with a few thoughts about why they are of merit. Feel free to leave comments with your own opinions. I’m sure we won’t fall out over the matter. Unless you like Sheryl Crow.
Everything or Nothing: The Untold Story of 007 is a lot more than just some bit of fluff, promotional documentary celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Bond movies. It is quite a frank insight into the history of the Bond franchise, although it is very much told from the perspective of EON productions. The movie title comes from the production company acronym “Everything or Nothing” which was formed by Harry Saltzman and Albert “Cubby” Broccoli. Although somewhat partisan in its tone, this is not a rose-tinted exploration of the staggering success of Ian Fleming’s iconic character. The documentary does in fact make you rethink many notions you may have had about certain high profile Hollywood stars and producers.
By the time the Bond franchise had reached its 18th incarnation in 1997 with Tomorrow Never Dies, the coveted opportunity to provide the title track was chosen through a competitive tender process. There were twelve submissions made for the movie, including songs from Swan Lee, Pulp, Saint Etienne, Marc Almond, Sheryl Crow and David Arnold. Arnold had already been personally recommended to compose the film’s soundtrack by Bond veteran John Barry, who had retired from the series in 1987.
Sam Mendes brought a degree of depth to Skyfall which we've not seen in a Bond movie for a long time. SPECTRE continues in the same vein as its predecessor with an involving plot, fully rounded characters and some finely honed set pieces. I like this approach to Bond and feel that a more cerebral interpretation of the character is not only beneficial for the franchise but to the genre itself. If SPECTRE does turn out to be Daniel Craig’s swansong as James Bond then it will be a fitting epitaph.
I recently started reading fiction again after spending half a year focused upon academic subjects and ploughing my way through numerous non-fiction books. I’ve always been a fan of the Bond franchise so decided it was time to familiarise myself with Ian Flemings’ the source material. The results so far have proven to be quite surprising and not at all as I expected. I managed to purchase the first seven novels in the series from a second hand book shop and have so far completed five of them. I also have audio book version available of the all of Fleming’s stories should I need to consume them in such a fashion.
After the ludicrous (but fun) excesses of Moonraker, the twelfth James Bond film For Your Eyes Only took a “back to basics” approach to its plot. Former Bond editor John Glen was promoted to director and remained so for five movies. The movie is unusual compared to other Bond films in several ways. It directly references Tracy Bond, 007’s deceased wife, with an opening sequence showing Bond placing flowers on here grave. Apart from a passing comment in The Spy Who Loved Me, this has never been done since and has now been eliminated from the plot in the 2006 reboot of the franchise. For Your Eyes Only is also the first Bond movie to include the title song artist in the opening credits.
The Naked Jungle (1954)
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”.
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”.
The Naked Jungle is essentially a romantic drama with some action scenes added to the final act. If it were made today it would more than likely be an action movie with a romantic subplot added as an afterthought. However, this was the fifties and “romance” sold and by “romance” I of course mean sex. Obviously such a subject couldn’t be addressed directly, due to the prevailing social attitudes and film making codes of the time. So the screenplay by Ranald MacDougall, Ben Maddow and Philip Yordan, dances around the issue dropping numerous unsubtle hints. Christopher Leiningen is a clean cut, no nonsense hero and man’s man. He is the master of all he surveys and has built his own world by the strength of his own will. But he balks of the idea of marrying a widow; a women who is more sexually experienced than him. Especially as it is more than likely he is a virgin himself. The sexual politics of this film are quite advanced for the times.
The first hour of the The Naked Jungle is a fraught love story, filled with sexual tension. Contemporary viewers who lack the ability to detach themselves from the outdated imperialist themes, dubious depiction of the Brazilian natives and other obsolete elements of the story may find The Naked Jungle hard to watch. Those who can contextualise the narrative will be rewarded with strong performances from both Heston and Parker. The latter has some very good lines. When rebuffed for being a widow and hence not being a virgin she calmly states that a piano plays better if it has already been played. The production values are also sound with Florida standing in for tropical Brazil. The studio scenes and interior sets are sumptuous and reflect the grandiose style of big studios of the time.
The last thirty minutes of The Naked Jungle feature the arrival of the Marabunta and the nature and habits of soldier ants are grossly misrepresented. But why let natural history stand in the way of good action scenes. Hence we get a lot of matte painting showing jungle stripped of foliage and composite shots of ants swarming around the cast. There’s also some good miniature work at the film’s climax. A few cast members are eaten by the marauding Marabunta but it’s all rather tame. A corpse that has been eaten to the bone is briefly shown and one actor briefly staggers around with ants covering his hands and face but it’s hardly terrifying. Overall, The Naked Jungle is an entertaining example of the sort of romantic drama with a soupçon of action which were a cinematic mainstay of the times. It reflects the tastes, politics and popular culture of the fifties and should be judged within such a context.
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.
Films You Have Seen More Than Seven Times
There was this Tweet doing the rounds on Twitter today. You know, the kind that asks a simple question that gets some traction, so eventually you start seeing various people’s replies throughout the day in your timeline. This Tweet asked "what film have you watched more than 7 times? Reply only with gifs". After reading several answers from those I follow on Twitter (all of which were very interesting), I decided to join in myself. So I found a suitable gif for Akira Kurosawa’s classic 1954 masterpiece, Seven Samurai, and posted it. I chose this film because it is one of my favourites. I find something new in it every time I watch it. And I have definitely seen it more than seven times. However, the more I pondered this Twitter question, the more I realised that there are many films that I’ve seen over seven times. In fact you don’t even have to be a dedicated film fan to fall into this category.
There was this Tweet doing the rounds on Twitter today. You know, the kind that asks a simple question that gets some traction, so eventually you start seeing various people’s replies throughout the day in your timeline. This Tweet asked "what film have you watched more than 7 times? Reply only with gifs". After reading several answers from those I follow on Twitter (all of which were very interesting), I decided to join in myself. So I found a suitable gif for Akira Kurosawa’s classic 1954 masterpiece, Seven Samurai, and posted it. I chose this film because it is one of my favourites. I find something new in it every time I watch it. And I have definitely seen it more than seven times. However, the more I pondered this Twitter question, the more I realised that there are many films that I’ve seen over seven times. In fact you don’t even have to be a dedicated film fan to fall into this category.
Being a child of the seventies, going to the cinema was a mainstay of family entertainment. It took several years for a big film to turn up on TV and when it did, it was usually over the Christmas holidays. Hence, when video recorders became commonplace, being able to see a film of your choice, as and when you wanted was a real novelty. Therefore it was not unusual to see a popular film numerous times. Perhaps the most obvious example of this is Star Wars. Just off the top of my head I saw this movie twice upon its original UK cinema release. And then again when it was re-released with its sequels during the eighties. I have owned the film on VHS, LaserDisc, DVD and Blu-ray. I watched it multiple times with my son when he was growing up. I will no doubt watch it with my grandchildren at some point.
I suppose one’s relationship with film determines whether you watch something multiple times. Some people see films as being an entertaining diversion and nothing more. Why would you want to watch something that you’ve seen already? Each to their own. However, I look at cinema as a more enduring artform. I will listen to specific albums when the mood takes me and similarly will re-watch particular films depending upon how I feel. As I mentioned earlier, some films are far more than the sum of their parts and lend themselves to being watched multiple times. Each viewing can potentially yield something new that you failed to observe last time you watched it. And of course there are family rituals where you sit down and watch favourite movies together. This is more to do with bonding and the dynamics of relationships but that being said, there is something comforting about watching a film that you know like the back of your hand.
Finally, there is another scenario that’s worth mentioning. TV stations usually purchase a licence for access to a back catalogue of films. Hence it is not unusual to find some titles being shown as part of a regular cycle. Therefore, it is entirely possible to stumble upon a film that is halfway through while channel surfing. Often we will continue watching in default of anything else. Thus it as only in the last decade that I’ve actually seen Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid all the way through from start to finish. But I’ve seen parts of it numerous times beforehand. So, upon reflection, there are numerous films that I have watched more than seven times that I could have Tweeted about. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone who isn’t even a film fan could do exactly the same. Because television is such a permanent background feature to our lives.
Here are a few other films that I’ve definitely seen over seven times:
Zulu (1964)
The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (1973)
King Kong (1933)
Assault on Precinct 13 (1976)
The Wizard of Oz (1939)
The Medusa Touch (1978)
Scrooge (1970)
Aliens (1986)
Jaws (1975)
Dawn of the Dead (1978)
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.
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.
Fluke is a curious film about a man who is reincarnated as a dog and his subsequent realisation that he may have been murdered. It takes an adult novel by British author James Herbert, which is filled with philosophical musing and strives to adapt it in a far more family friendly fashion. The result is a somewhat bipolar production which thematically alternates between existential introspection and Buddhism. It then strives to deliver its message in a Disneyesque idiom. Children will potentially be confused and upset by what they see and adults will be wrongfooted by the continual shift in tone. Fluke was not a critical or commercial success upon release and the flaws that were identified by critics at the time still ring true today. That being said, Fluke is still an interesting and entertaining film, despite its faults.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Levon Cade (Jason Staham) is a former Royal Marine Commando who has retired from military service and now works as the leader of a construction team in Chicago. He has a close relationship with Joe and Carla Garcia (Michael Peña and Noemi Gonzalez ) who run the company and considers them as family. Outside of work, Levon is involved in a bitter custody battle for his daughter, against her maternal grandfather, who blames Levon for his daughter’s suicide. When Garcia's teenage daughter Jenny (Arianna Rivas) goes missing, Levon reluctantly agrees to help her parents and get her back. Beginning his search at the nightclub where Jenny was last seen, he soon discovers that she was abducted by Russian traffickers. Furthermore, the culprit is Dimi Kolisnyk (Maximilian Osinski), the wayward son of a senior ranking gangster.
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.
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.
Unavailable Films
I recently found an old blog post from an earlier incarnation of Contains Moderate Peril, circa 2010, in which I praised the availability of so many obscure and niche market films. Over the past 10 years since the DVD format became established, a tremendous back catalogue of material has become available. You only have to visit a branch of a store such as HMV, to find current or classic titles, complete box sets of old television series and obscure genre material. It is quite surprising what a search for more obscure titles online will turn up. I recently found the 1969 allegorical curiosity, Figures in a Landscape directed by Joseph Losey and starring Robert Shaw. A further perusal of international DVD vendors turned up a copy of the superb Italian cash-in movie, Killer Fish from 1979, with Lee Majors and Karen Black. I also lamented the conspicuous absence of several other films.
I recently found an old blog post from an earlier incarnation of Contains Moderate Peril, circa 2010, in which I praised the availability of so many obscure and niche market films. Over the past 10 years since the DVD format became established, a tremendous back catalogue of material has become available. You only have to visit a branch of a store such as HMV, to find current or classic titles, complete box sets of old television series and obscure genre material. It is quite surprising what a search for more obscure titles online will turn up. I recently found the 1969 allegorical curiosity, Figures in a Landscape directed by Joseph Losey and starring Robert Shaw. A further perusal of international DVD vendors turned up a copy of the superb Italian cash-in movie, Killer Fish from 1979, with Lee Majors and Karen Black. I also lamented the conspicuous absence of several other films.
The Challenge (1982)
The Passage (1979)
Shout at the Devil (1976)
Darker Than Amber (1970)
12 years later this state of affairs has continued. It never ceases to amaze me how many minor and relatively unknown films are easily available for purchase, often remastered and available on Blu-ray format. All of the above, bar one, have now been released. All in the correct aspect ratio, featuring the longest versions available and fully uncut. For a serious scholar of cinema and a dedicated film aficionado these are bountiful times and suitable compensation for the years spent watching poor quality, second generation VHS copies. I never envisaged a time when I could watch such cult classics as Hawk the Slayer, Krull, Hannibal Brooks and Raise the Titanic in the comfort of my own home in such unparalleled picture quality. I don’t quite understand how so many small distribution companies can afford to restore and sell such niche market titles but it obviously is financially viable as they continue to do so.
However, not all titles from my 2010 list are currently available. Darker Than Amber, Robert Clouse's 1970 adaptation of the novel by John D. MacDonald, remains missing. Starring Rod Taylor as Travis McGee, it is a gritty and tough thriller that encapsulates the "hard boiled private eye" genre. It features a superb Jazz based soundtrack by John Parker and catches the spirit of the novel well. It is also very hard hitting and brutal, containing a climactic fight that has become legendary within the genre due to the lead actors allegedly fighting for real. However, most prints that circulated in the nineties for satellite and cable stations, are severely truncated. These remove most of the violence perpetrated by William Smith and dilute the final fist fight. The last uncut copy in circulation was a Danish VHS release with hard coded subtitles. This is now much sought after.
At the time of writing a lot of films are now being released in 4K UHD format. I wonder if this medium will be as equitable as DVD, in the years to come? I suppose if the production costs come down then I see no reason why not. Time will tell. In the meantime, despite there being a wealth of material available on physical media and streaming services, there are still a few titles that continue to “fall between the cracks” and are not to be found anywhere. I’m not talking about controversial films that are banned or are “questionable” in other ways. I refer to titles that may be mired in complex rights issues or have been sidelined or overlooked by their current owners. Disney apparently cancelled the Extended Edition of The Abyss (1989) which was being restored and remastered for a Blu-ray release. Once the studio completed its purchase of 20th Century Fox, they allegedly shutdown a lot of projects of this kind. Here are a few more examples of films currently unavailable on DVD, Blu-ray and 4K UHD.
The Keep (1983)
The Humanoid (1979)
Freaks (1932)
A Man’s Best Friend (1993)
Song of the South (1946)
Treasure of the Four Crowns (1983)
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.
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.
Fluke is a curious film about a man who is reincarnated as a dog and his subsequent realisation that he may have been murdered. It takes an adult novel by British author James Herbert, which is filled with philosophical musing and strives to adapt it in a far more family friendly fashion. The result is a somewhat bipolar production which thematically alternates between existential introspection and Buddhism. It then strives to deliver its message in a Disneyesque idiom. Children will potentially be confused and upset by what they see and adults will be wrongfooted by the continual shift in tone. Fluke was not a critical or commercial success upon release and the flaws that were identified by critics at the time still ring true today. That being said, Fluke is still an interesting and entertaining film, despite its faults.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Levon Cade (Jason Staham) is a former Royal Marine Commando who has retired from military service and now works as the leader of a construction team in Chicago. He has a close relationship with Joe and Carla Garcia (Michael Peña and Noemi Gonzalez ) who run the company and considers them as family. Outside of work, Levon is involved in a bitter custody battle for his daughter, against her maternal grandfather, who blames Levon for his daughter’s suicide. When Garcia's teenage daughter Jenny (Arianna Rivas) goes missing, Levon reluctantly agrees to help her parents and get her back. Beginning his search at the nightclub where Jenny was last seen, he soon discovers that she was abducted by Russian traffickers. Furthermore, the culprit is Dimi Kolisnyk (Maximilian Osinski), the wayward son of a senior ranking gangster.
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.
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.
Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City (2021)
I have seen 2 of the 6 films in the Resident Evil cinematic franchise. Beyond the actor Colin Salmon getting diced into cubes by some laser grid, I cannot recollect anything specific about those movies. That is how much of an impression they made upon me. My interest in the first film came from George A. Romero’s initial association with the production. However, when he left the project my attention waned. I eventually saw Resident Evil (2002) when it was released to the home media market and that was the end of the matter. It was an adequate, quick fix of entertainment and nothing more. As I had no major association with the video game franchise beyond playing Resident Evil: Code Veronica on the Dreamcast, I subsequently didn’t keep up with the subsequent movie beyond the first sequel. However, the franchise went on to gross $1.25 billion at the box office over the next 14 years.
I have seen 2 of the 6 films in the Resident Evil cinematic franchise. Beyond the actor Colin Salmon getting diced into cubes by some laser grid, I cannot recollect anything specific about those movies. That is how much of an impression they made upon me. My interest in the first film came from George A. Romero’s initial association with the production. However, when he left the project my attention waned. I eventually saw Resident Evil (2002) when it was released to the home media market and that was the end of the matter. It was an adequate, quick fix of entertainment and nothing more. As I had no major association with the video game franchise beyond playing Resident Evil: Code Veronica on the Dreamcast, I subsequently didn’t keep up with the subsequent movie beyond the first sequel. However, the franchise went on to gross $1.25 billion at the box office over the next 14 years.
So it comes as no surprise that after a gap of 5 years that the film series has now been rebooted with Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City. I’m sure that the success of new video games as well as remakes of earlier instalments have highlighted to the cinematic rights holders that “there's gold in them thar hills”. Like it’s predecessors Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City is what is broadly termed as a “medium budget” production (between $2 - 80 million). The cast is largely made up of television actors and the majority of the film takes place in building interiors. Despite it’s $25 million production costs Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City does not look cheap. The location photography is suitably convincing and sells the idea of a remote, snowbound industrial town in the midwest American mountains. Compared to earlier films, this reboot seems to draw far more heavily upon the story and the atmosphere of the first two video games. It is this aspect that is the film’s best asset but also its weakness.
In 1998, Claire Redfield (Kaya Scodelario) travels back to her childhood town of Raccoon City, in the mountains of the midwest. She gets a lift from a trucker who subsequently runs over a woman who appears to just step out into the road. When the pair get out to investigate, the body mysteriously vanishes leaving only a pool of blood. On arrival in Raccoon City, Claire visits her estranged brother Chris (Robbie Amell), a cop in the RPD. The police department consists of a skeleton crew as the town is being closed by its owners, the Umbrella Corporation, who are relocating their business interests elsewhere. It is not long until police officers go missing and the town inhabitants start exhibiting signs of a dangerous contagion. Claire soon discovers that Dr. William Birkin (Neal McDonough), a sinister physician from the orphanage in which she was raised, is involved in secret experiments on behalf of the Umbrella Corporation.
Movies based upon video game franchises do not have the most impressive track record with regard to being creative and innovative cinematic endeavours. My expectations for Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City were very low. However, upon viewing I found the film to be satisfactory. I know this sounds very much like damning with faint praise but this is a perfectly adequate horror movie which offers an acceptable experience for those unfamiliar with the source material, as well as a reasonable interpretation of the first two games in the series. There are some clever references such as a scene where Chris is in a darkened room trying to illuminate it with a faulty zippo lighter. Each time it briefly lights it shows zombies getting closer. As the story takes place in the nineties there are some nice pop culture references such as data being held on a PalmPilot. Cinematographer, Maxime Alexandre, lights the proceedings in the style of Mario Bava. Johannes Roberts directs with enthusiasm.
To put things in perspective when I say adequate, I mean moderately entertaining. Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City does not reinvent the wheel in any way, shape or form. Characters are painted with broad strokes and some function purely as Redshirts. Performances are okay but this is not really a film driven by acting prowess but by action set pieces and gore. The latter is present and sufficiently entertaining. Although there are CGI bullet hits and blood spray, there are also some quite good physical effects. As I previously mentioned the story focuses upon the claustrophobic elements of the video games and has a very straightforward narrative arc. Hence the story is somewhat simplistic. It may give those familiar with Resident Evil what they want but casual viewers only get a fairly basic linear story. However, it provides enough action and gore to suffice along with a modicum of wit and style. There are far worse horror films to invest your time in.
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 Ruins is similar to both The Mist and Cloverfield , which were released around the same time, in so far that it is rather bleak and unrelenting movie. And like the aforementioned films, its strength lies in the manner in which it tackles the subject of people facing their own death in a credible fashion. In The Ruins the protagonists when faced with the prospect of their own demise quickly descend in to panic and resolutely refuse to face facts. Although these are negative themes that may not be to everyone’s tastes, they make The Ruins both gripping and genuinely scary.
The arcane and esoteric works of author H P Lovecraft have often inspired horror directors. Sadly many of the films that have been made in homage to the Cthulhu Mythos have failed to capture its nightmarish mix of madness and mythology. John Carpenter's In the Mouth of Madness is not directly based on any of Lovecraft's specific works but screenwriter Michael De Luca draws his inspiration from many of this recurring ideas and concepts. He then adds a further homage to British writer Nigel Kneale, adding themes that are prevalent in his Quatermass series. Where others have failed, Carpenter successfully crafts a film that alludes to the baroque and eldritch qualities of the Cthulhu Mythos.
Since the late eighties Morgan Creek productions have dabbled with multiple genres whilst pursuing box office success. At times, they have been successful with such populist movies as Young Guns and Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. However, for every film that proved financially viable there were often two more that failed to gain an audience. Yet, despite having the business acumen to commission the best writing and directing talent available, co-founders James G. Robinson and Joe Roth have often been at odds with such creative individuals, resulting in many troubled productions. Horror writer and director Clive Barker endured an arduous experience while making Nightbreed, which was based upon his own novella. It was such a negative experience, resulting in a movie that was far from his initial vision, that Barker effectively quit film making. A similar experience befell William Peter Blatty when he was given an opportunity to film a direct sequel to The Exorcist based upon his novel Legion.
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.
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.
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.
Fluke is a curious film about a man who is reincarnated as a dog and his subsequent realisation that he may have been murdered. It takes an adult novel by British author James Herbert, which is filled with philosophical musing and strives to adapt it in a far more family friendly fashion. The result is a somewhat bipolar production which thematically alternates between existential introspection and Buddhism. It then strives to deliver its message in a Disneyesque idiom. Children will potentially be confused and upset by what they see and adults will be wrongfooted by the continual shift in tone. Fluke was not a critical or commercial success upon release and the flaws that were identified by critics at the time still ring true today. That being said, Fluke is still an interesting and entertaining film, despite its faults.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Levon Cade (Jason Staham) is a former Royal Marine Commando who has retired from military service and now works as the leader of a construction team in Chicago. He has a close relationship with Joe and Carla Garcia (Michael Peña and Noemi Gonzalez ) who run the company and considers them as family. Outside of work, Levon is involved in a bitter custody battle for his daughter, against her maternal grandfather, who blames Levon for his daughter’s suicide. When Garcia's teenage daughter Jenny (Arianna Rivas) goes missing, Levon reluctantly agrees to help her parents and get her back. Beginning his search at the nightclub where Jenny was last seen, he soon discovers that she was abducted by Russian traffickers. Furthermore, the culprit is Dimi Kolisnyk (Maximilian Osinski), the wayward son of a senior ranking gangster.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Fluke is a curious film about a man who is reincarnated as a dog and his subsequent realisation that he may have been murdered. It takes an adult novel by British author James Herbert, which is filled with philosophical musing and strives to adapt it in a far more family friendly fashion. The result is a somewhat bipolar production which thematically alternates between existential introspection and Buddhism. It then strives to deliver its message in a Disneyesque idiom. Children will potentially be confused and upset by what they see and adults will be wrongfooted by the continual shift in tone. Fluke was not a critical or commercial success upon release and the flaws that were identified by critics at the time still ring true today. That being said, Fluke is still an interesting and entertaining film, despite its faults.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Levon Cade (Jason Staham) is a former Royal Marine Commando who has retired from military service and now works as the leader of a construction team in Chicago. He has a close relationship with Joe and Carla Garcia (Michael Peña and Noemi Gonzalez ) who run the company and considers them as family. Outside of work, Levon is involved in a bitter custody battle for his daughter, against her maternal grandfather, who blames Levon for his daughter’s suicide. When Garcia's teenage daughter Jenny (Arianna Rivas) goes missing, Levon reluctantly agrees to help her parents and get her back. Beginning his search at the nightclub where Jenny was last seen, he soon discovers that she was abducted by Russian traffickers. Furthermore, the culprit is Dimi Kolisnyk (Maximilian Osinski), the wayward son of a senior ranking gangster.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Fluke is a curious film about a man who is reincarnated as a dog and his subsequent realisation that he may have been murdered. It takes an adult novel by British author James Herbert, which is filled with philosophical musing and strives to adapt it in a far more family friendly fashion. The result is a somewhat bipolar production which thematically alternates between existential introspection and Buddhism. It then strives to deliver its message in a Disneyesque idiom. Children will potentially be confused and upset by what they see and adults will be wrongfooted by the continual shift in tone. Fluke was not a critical or commercial success upon release and the flaws that were identified by critics at the time still ring true today. That being said, Fluke is still an interesting and entertaining film, despite its faults.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Levon Cade (Jason Staham) is a former Royal Marine Commando who has retired from military service and now works as the leader of a construction team in Chicago. He has a close relationship with Joe and Carla Garcia (Michael Peña and Noemi Gonzalez ) who run the company and considers them as family. Outside of work, Levon is involved in a bitter custody battle for his daughter, against her maternal grandfather, who blames Levon for his daughter’s suicide. When Garcia's teenage daughter Jenny (Arianna Rivas) goes missing, Levon reluctantly agrees to help her parents and get her back. Beginning his search at the nightclub where Jenny was last seen, he soon discovers that she was abducted by Russian traffickers. Furthermore, the culprit is Dimi Kolisnyk (Maximilian Osinski), the wayward son of a senior ranking gangster.
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.
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.
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.
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.