Meet Paul Sharpe (Winston Rekert), failed documentarist, now director of commercials, father of one son and still in a not very happy marriage. Also, he's a jerk. The only way he can cope with his oh-so-terrible life is through his nightly exploits in astral dreaming, something he had dabbled in years ago without much success. That changed when he met Jannis (Karen Black), a dancer who now acts as something like his spiritual mentor. Soon though, Paul's dream self starts to kill people he knows in real life in painful ways. As if this wasn't weird enough, his son starts to talk to a strange being he calls "The Blue Man". Will police detective Kaufman (Paul Novak) and Paul find out what is really happening before it's too late?
Eternal Evil aka The Blue Man is a Canadian TV movie, and quite a conundrum. One seldom sees such a strange mixture of the cheesy (hello terrible child actor! Hello French woman! Hello death faces! Hello soundtrack! Hello non-surprising surprises!) and the surprisingly good in the form of obvious, but not often used plot points, some really neat and very atmospheric camera work and really rather good acting. Even, if you can believe it, effective moments of idea-based horror.
Since its cheesiness is more amusing than annoying, Eternal Evil is a nice little surprise.
Friday, May 16, 2008
The Science!? 01: Unknown World (1951)
Dr. Morley is a far sighted, if not incredibly optimistic scientist. For him the invention of the H-bomb guarantees the self-destruction of humankind and the complete uninhabitability of the planet's surface. But he has a plan: To find a habitable place deep under the Earth's surface as a haven for humanity. After the US government (who was obviously as science-hating then as it is now) rejects his plans, the vapid, but adventurous son of a millionaire, promises to finance the project, if he will be part of the explorative mission. The scientist and his team agree and they soon start to use one of those underground drilling vehicles movies love so much to search for a better place for mankind. Although not much is going to happen along the way, not every intrepid explorer will survive.
Unknown World makes reviewing very difficult. On one hand it is clearly a boring and slow piece of work, neither very well acted nor in any way exciting. On the other hand, I doubt that it was meant to be exciting. Clearly someone in the production (director? writer? producer?) had the idea to make a filmic version of hard SF and tried his hardest to stay as plausible and earnest as possible, avoiding everything exciting and totally unrealistic Fifties SF excelled in. The end product shows how difficult it is to avoid the stupid without losing the fun, too. I watched without any emotional relation to the proceedings.
Another failure, probably the one most destructive for the kind of movie this is trying to be, is its lack of sense of wonder. If you are trying to show us something relatively mundane, show us how beautiful and strange the seemingly mundane can be. Instead we get to see the (ineffectively lit) Bronson Caves.
The last failure of Unknown World is again rooted in an attempt to be different and better than its contemporaries. I saw obvious signs of interest in a deeper and more realistic characterization let down by equally obvious signs of the ability to think character arcs through to their logical end. Instead the writings uses lazy short cuts to push the characters back into the usual clichéd positions.
So, is the movie boring? Yes, very much so. Do I recommend it? Not really, no. Is the wish to make something different commendable? Yes, absolutely.
Unknown World makes reviewing very difficult. On one hand it is clearly a boring and slow piece of work, neither very well acted nor in any way exciting. On the other hand, I doubt that it was meant to be exciting. Clearly someone in the production (director? writer? producer?) had the idea to make a filmic version of hard SF and tried his hardest to stay as plausible and earnest as possible, avoiding everything exciting and totally unrealistic Fifties SF excelled in. The end product shows how difficult it is to avoid the stupid without losing the fun, too. I watched without any emotional relation to the proceedings.
Another failure, probably the one most destructive for the kind of movie this is trying to be, is its lack of sense of wonder. If you are trying to show us something relatively mundane, show us how beautiful and strange the seemingly mundane can be. Instead we get to see the (ineffectively lit) Bronson Caves.
The last failure of Unknown World is again rooted in an attempt to be different and better than its contemporaries. I saw obvious signs of interest in a deeper and more realistic characterization let down by equally obvious signs of the ability to think character arcs through to their logical end. Instead the writings uses lazy short cuts to push the characters back into the usual clichéd positions.
So, is the movie boring? Yes, very much so. Do I recommend it? Not really, no. Is the wish to make something different commendable? Yes, absolutely.
The Science!?: An Introduction
A helpful and friendly soul, also known as my Gramma, donated another lovely cheap DVD box set containing many unwatchable movies. So project "100 movie pack Sci-Fi [sic] Classics" is a go. Just a short look at the list of movies shows a very broad definition of SF, reaching from serials with a Singing Cowboy to peplums. So everything is right with the world.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
The Horror!? 68: Mama Dracula (1980)
Vampire countess needs a bath in virgin blood to stay in shape. But a good virgin is hard to find. Can Professor van Bloed, who looks about fifteen years old, and his newfangled artificial blood help? Do I care?
I am sure that the Geneva Conventions prohibit use of this film. I have seen my share of painfully unfunny comedies, but this...this is so bad I can't find words to describe it. I can't even ask "what the hell were these people thinking?". The brain-dead do not think.
At least I can report that this was the fourth and final film of "director" Boris Szulzinger. I suppose a mob of villagers carrying burning torches saved us from further pain. We should build them a monument.
I am sure that the Geneva Conventions prohibit use of this film. I have seen my share of painfully unfunny comedies, but this...this is so bad I can't find words to describe it. I can't even ask "what the hell were these people thinking?". The brain-dead do not think.
At least I can report that this was the fourth and final film of "director" Boris Szulzinger. I suppose a mob of villagers carrying burning torches saved us from further pain. We should build them a monument.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The Horror!? 67: The Bat (1959)
Crime writer Cornelia von Gelder and her maid (I suppose) Lizzie rent the house of bank director John Fleming, ignoring the fact that a murderer commonly called "The Bat" is known to have committed some atrocious murders there. While they are getting comfortable, said bank director is on a hunting trip with his friend Dr. Wilson deep in the woods. He tells Wilson that he has embezzled one million dollars from his bank and now needs Wilson's help to fake his own death. The good Doctor himself doesn't like all this faking business and kills his dear friend, leaving the money hidden away somewhere for the taking.
Soon mysterious things happen at von Gelder's place. Who might the notorious murderer be? The good doctor with his problematic morals and his interest in bats? The chauffeur with the slightly shady past? Or someone else? And where is the money?
The Bat is one of many versions of The Circular Staircase and a very fine one, if you like old fashioned murder mysteries.
"Old fashioned" to modern eyes I mean; as a matter of fact Director Crane Wilbur cut down consequently on the more irritating parts of his source and made it a piece of Fifties matinée cinema that is as fun to watch as the best films of its kind.
This old dark house is a quite modern one, even things like its secret doors are cleverly modernized and most importantly there is no odious comic relief who needs killing, nor any gorillas.
We also have the pleasure of seeing Vincent Price in one of his more laid back performances as Doctor Wells, while Agnes Moorehead gives one of her competent performances. (In most movies with her I know, she's completely horrible, which is kind of strange if you see good work like this or hear one of the many radio plays she acted quite brilliantly in.)
Soon mysterious things happen at von Gelder's place. Who might the notorious murderer be? The good doctor with his problematic morals and his interest in bats? The chauffeur with the slightly shady past? Or someone else? And where is the money?
The Bat is one of many versions of The Circular Staircase and a very fine one, if you like old fashioned murder mysteries.
"Old fashioned" to modern eyes I mean; as a matter of fact Director Crane Wilbur cut down consequently on the more irritating parts of his source and made it a piece of Fifties matinée cinema that is as fun to watch as the best films of its kind.
This old dark house is a quite modern one, even things like its secret doors are cleverly modernized and most importantly there is no odious comic relief who needs killing, nor any gorillas.
We also have the pleasure of seeing Vincent Price in one of his more laid back performances as Doctor Wells, while Agnes Moorehead gives one of her competent performances. (In most movies with her I know, she's completely horrible, which is kind of strange if you see good work like this or hear one of the many radio plays she acted quite brilliantly in.)
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
The Horror!? 66: Revolt of the Zombies (1936)
Most of the time I try to give at least a small plot summary for the films I inflict upon myself, but Revolt of the Zombies has beaten me. The mere thought of thinking about it ever again makes me sick. How and why you (as director, producer etc) go from White Zombie to something like this is not just hard to explain, it shouldn't be possible.
Just try to imagine the most long-winded script, with the most mind-numbing love story you have ever seen mating with the worst special effects, the most disinterested actors, and the most static and lifeless camera work. One cannot describe this kind of monstrosity - watching it feels like it must be part of Jack Kirby's anti-life equation.
Can I die now, mummy?
The Horror!? 65: The Killer Shrews (1959)
Captain Thorne Sherman and his helmsman and friend Rook Griswold transport supplies to a research station on a remote island. Nobody told them that the resident scientists under Doctor Craigis and his daughter Ann have made some troubling mistakes in their quest to solve the problem of overpopulation. Their experiments created a species of dog-sized, poisonous and highly aggressive shrews. After depopulating the island's fauna, the monsters are in dire need of food. As if this wasn't troubling enough, the island is hit by a hurricane, destroying every hope of leaving for at least a day. Soon Rook, being black, is eaten and it doesn't look too good for the rest of our heroes either.
Why the hell didn't Ray Kellogg direct more films? His only directing credits (if you believe the IMDb) besides this and The Giant Gila Monster are something about a dog and John Wayne's nauseating The Green Berets. And yet The Killer Shrews shows so much promise, some of it certainly created by one of the tighter and psychologically more nuanced scripts for an American monster movie of the Fifties, but most of it carried by a directorial sense for suspense you won't find in too many movies of the time. What impresses me most is the oppressiveness the siege scenario provides, even if the monster are obviously dogs wearing shaggy carpets and fake heads and teeth. The character's actions are not always pretty or all that clever, providing a far more realistic feeling than usual. And there are not many films of its time that actually know what jerks their designated heroes are.
The movie's big problem is some very uneven acting, with performances reaching from the decent to the terrible. Ingrid Goude's Ann is a real pain to watch and has a voice that has a lot in common with the (very effective) screeching noises the shrews produce.
This of course shouldn't hinder anyone to watch one of the great monster movies too few people know.
Why the hell didn't Ray Kellogg direct more films? His only directing credits (if you believe the IMDb) besides this and The Giant Gila Monster are something about a dog and John Wayne's nauseating The Green Berets. And yet The Killer Shrews shows so much promise, some of it certainly created by one of the tighter and psychologically more nuanced scripts for an American monster movie of the Fifties, but most of it carried by a directorial sense for suspense you won't find in too many movies of the time. What impresses me most is the oppressiveness the siege scenario provides, even if the monster are obviously dogs wearing shaggy carpets and fake heads and teeth. The character's actions are not always pretty or all that clever, providing a far more realistic feeling than usual. And there are not many films of its time that actually know what jerks their designated heroes are.
The movie's big problem is some very uneven acting, with performances reaching from the decent to the terrible. Ingrid Goude's Ann is a real pain to watch and has a voice that has a lot in common with the (very effective) screeching noises the shrews produce.
This of course shouldn't hinder anyone to watch one of the great monster movies too few people know.
Monday, May 12, 2008
The Horror!? 64: The Vampire Bat (1933)
A series of strange murders plagues the small European (who knows where exactly it lies) town of Kleinschloss. Since all victims are found bloodless with two small puncture marks on their necks, the superstitious townsfolk soon decide the murderer must be a vampire! Only the more urbane policeman Karl Brettschneider doubts the theory. Nevertheless he soon suspects mentally ill Herman Gleib of the deeds, the same man the villagers choose as their scapegoat. But to nobody's surprise the killings don't end with Gleib's death. Could the real killer be...a gorilla-less mad scientist?
The Vampire Bat is surprisingly classy. Sure, its script won't win prizes for originality, but it's well enough executed and expertly paced and the plot seems as logical as plots containing mad scientists get. Even the scientist's motives and plans make some kind of sense.
The mostly more than competent cast helps a lot, too. Dwight Frye and Lionel Atwill were of course already old hands with the kind of parts they play; Melvyn Douglas and (really charming) Fay Wray make one of the more likable "young hero & heroine" pairs of the Thirties and Forties.
If Frank R. Strayer's direction only would be a little more creative, we'd be looking at a real forgotten classic. Since he later directed snoozers like Condemned To Live I am not going to complain about him showing competence here, though.
The Vampire Bat is surprisingly classy. Sure, its script won't win prizes for originality, but it's well enough executed and expertly paced and the plot seems as logical as plots containing mad scientists get. Even the scientist's motives and plans make some kind of sense.
The mostly more than competent cast helps a lot, too. Dwight Frye and Lionel Atwill were of course already old hands with the kind of parts they play; Melvyn Douglas and (really charming) Fay Wray make one of the more likable "young hero & heroine" pairs of the Thirties and Forties.
If Frank R. Strayer's direction only would be a little more creative, we'd be looking at a real forgotten classic. Since he later directed snoozers like Condemned To Live I am not going to complain about him showing competence here, though.
Zombie Strippers! (2008)
Experiments of the US government under George W. with the goal to create a super soldier by reanimating the dead go a little pear shaped. Nothing that an elite unit of marines can't handle, though. If you don't care too much about the small things like the infection and escape of one of the soldiers, that is. He soon stumbles into a local strip joint, bites the resident star stripper and is imprisoned by the shady owners of the club (one of them played by Robert Englund's hammy grimace). To George Romero's surprise (delight?) we learn that female zombies retain a lot of their mental capacities and make incredibly popular strippers. The promise of money piling up in their greedy little hands lets the owners ignore small problems like the mindless male zombies the diet of their stars leave behind. What's a cellar good for, anyway?
It is only a question of time until the coming of the big gut munching. But what will be the catastrophe's trigger? The rift between living and undead strippers or the marines searching for their escaped colleague?
To my surprise Zombie Strippers! turns out to be a far more entertaining movie than I expected. Don't get me wrong, I am not talking about one of these so-called "good" movies here, but about a heavily exploitative b-picture with slightly competent direction and mostly terrible acting.
Here's the thing, though - writer-director Jay Lee wallows in absurdity, reaching from tasteless jokes that are incredibly funny in their unfunniness to strippers sprouting badly delivered bits of French existentialist philosophy to a dead woman shooting pool balls out of her vagina. The whole film achieves - especially in the last third of its running time - that weird state some of the most interesting b-pictures live in, when no honest viewer can tell what part of it is meant as a joke and what part is meant seriously. And this viewer surely won't complain about the strange kind of bliss this gives him.
It is only a question of time until the coming of the big gut munching. But what will be the catastrophe's trigger? The rift between living and undead strippers or the marines searching for their escaped colleague?
To my surprise Zombie Strippers! turns out to be a far more entertaining movie than I expected. Don't get me wrong, I am not talking about one of these so-called "good" movies here, but about a heavily exploitative b-picture with slightly competent direction and mostly terrible acting.
Here's the thing, though - writer-director Jay Lee wallows in absurdity, reaching from tasteless jokes that are incredibly funny in their unfunniness to strippers sprouting badly delivered bits of French existentialist philosophy to a dead woman shooting pool balls out of her vagina. The whole film achieves - especially in the last third of its running time - that weird state some of the most interesting b-pictures live in, when no honest viewer can tell what part of it is meant as a joke and what part is meant seriously. And this viewer surely won't complain about the strange kind of bliss this gives him.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Doctor Who 2008 episode 6
Do you know the two or three dozen Star Trek episodes about the warring factions who fight for something they don't understand and have to learn that they are basically alike? Me too. So what could be a better idea for Doctor Who than to rip them off, only much much worse.
Just last week I wrote how glad I was about the end of the series' experiments in being clever. This week I was punished for my optimism by something even worse - an experiment in being clever, meaningful and moving at the same time. The result? An insufferable mixture of corniness, bad melodrama, self righteousness and every cliché one could possibly imagine.
Adding a deeply stupid, clichéd (yeah, what a surprise) and annoying sub plot about the Doctor's clone daughter hasn't made the mess any better.
I won't even try to point out all the holes in the plot logic. And Tennant still plays dramatic scenes as if suffering from constipation.
Next week's episode featuring a murder mystery and Agatha Christie can only be better.
Just last week I wrote how glad I was about the end of the series' experiments in being clever. This week I was punished for my optimism by something even worse - an experiment in being clever, meaningful and moving at the same time. The result? An insufferable mixture of corniness, bad melodrama, self righteousness and every cliché one could possibly imagine.
Adding a deeply stupid, clichéd (yeah, what a surprise) and annoying sub plot about the Doctor's clone daughter hasn't made the mess any better.
I won't even try to point out all the holes in the plot logic. And Tennant still plays dramatic scenes as if suffering from constipation.
Next week's episode featuring a murder mystery and Agatha Christie can only be better.
Los Vampiros De Coyoácan (1974)
I have to give writer-director Arturo Martinez credit for one thing: he really tried to deviate from the standard formula for luchadore movies. The problem with Los Vampiros is that everything that differs from your normal Mexican wrestling film has been changed for the worse.
So Mil Mascaras and his sidekick Superzan are themselves sidekicks of a certain Dr. Wells, soon-to-be vampire hunter, and don't get a lot to do. Some might say that -given the thespian qualities of masked heroes- this is a change for the better, and the both of them are probably not the best actors in the movie, but at least they seem interested in what they are doing. The rest of the bunch just stands and stares and speaks their dialogue so....ve....r...y......slow......ly I soon started to ask myself if they had been drugged by the evil vampire baron. Which is a nice theory if one ignores the fact that the baron himself is no bloody different.
Worst of all, someone thought it clever to make a luchadore movie without much action, possibly to make the ponderousness of the acting all the more annoying. This is especially shameful since the few action scenes that are there feature quite nice choreography and some prime silliness. It's too sad that you have to wait for the vampiric wrestling dwarfs for almost an hour (or a subjective year).
So Mil Mascaras and his sidekick Superzan are themselves sidekicks of a certain Dr. Wells, soon-to-be vampire hunter, and don't get a lot to do. Some might say that -given the thespian qualities of masked heroes- this is a change for the better, and the both of them are probably not the best actors in the movie, but at least they seem interested in what they are doing. The rest of the bunch just stands and stares and speaks their dialogue so....ve....r...y......slow......ly I soon started to ask myself if they had been drugged by the evil vampire baron. Which is a nice theory if one ignores the fact that the baron himself is no bloody different.
Worst of all, someone thought it clever to make a luchadore movie without much action, possibly to make the ponderousness of the acting all the more annoying. This is especially shameful since the few action scenes that are there feature quite nice choreography and some prime silliness. It's too sad that you have to wait for the vampiric wrestling dwarfs for almost an hour (or a subjective year).
Friday, May 9, 2008
The Horror!? 63: The Monster Maker (1944)
Dr. Igor Markoff is a man with many interests. He is a medical practitioner, dabbles a little in hypnosis, owns (I bet you never saw that one coming) a murderous gorilla with a terrible fear of dogs, is a distinguished expert for disturbances of the glandular system and tries to create a cure for acromegaly, when he is not trying out his own variant of the disease on unsuspecting lab animals. He also has a secret - he killed the real Dr. Markoff years ago in Europe. The original Markoff was the lover of fake-Markoff's wife, so obviously they both had to die. And what better way is there to kill one's spouse than to infect her with one's special brand of acromegaly?
Years later in America, Markoff attends a concert by the pianist Lawrence and soon recognizes in Lawrence's daughter Patricia the spitting image of his own wife. Obviously he has to possess her (and I use the word "possess" very deliberately). And what better way is there to win a woman's love than to first stalk her and later, after having been told off, to infect her father with one's favorite disease and try to blackmail her into marriage?
The Monster Maker is a passable PRC movie, relatively well acted (as in "everyone but the villain seems quite bland and disinterested, though not completely incompetent"), relatively tight (as in "the first half of the film actually moves along at a nice pace, while the second half drags considerably"), with a relatively complex, though also very unambitious villain (played relatively exciting by J. Carrol Naish) and a lot of interesting subtext. I am absolutely sure that director Sam Newfield (or Siegmund Neufeld, as he called his producer-self) didn't mean to create a commentary on the concept of women as possessions of men (aka objectification), but it is nonetheless hard not to interpret the film this way, seeing that Markoff knows absolutely nothing about Patricia as a person and first tries to blackmail only her father into letting her marry him, showing an extreme disinterest in the will of his future wife. The fact that she is finally rescued by her sick father and her incredibly jerky fiancé makes this reading even clearer.
So it's a (relatively) competent movie with some interesting aspects, although probably not a good starting point for viewers new to Poverty Row.
Darling of the Day (of course spoken by fiancé jerk):
"Funny people these foreigner!"
Years later in America, Markoff attends a concert by the pianist Lawrence and soon recognizes in Lawrence's daughter Patricia the spitting image of his own wife. Obviously he has to possess her (and I use the word "possess" very deliberately). And what better way is there to win a woman's love than to first stalk her and later, after having been told off, to infect her father with one's favorite disease and try to blackmail her into marriage?
The Monster Maker is a passable PRC movie, relatively well acted (as in "everyone but the villain seems quite bland and disinterested, though not completely incompetent"), relatively tight (as in "the first half of the film actually moves along at a nice pace, while the second half drags considerably"), with a relatively complex, though also very unambitious villain (played relatively exciting by J. Carrol Naish) and a lot of interesting subtext. I am absolutely sure that director Sam Newfield (or Siegmund Neufeld, as he called his producer-self) didn't mean to create a commentary on the concept of women as possessions of men (aka objectification), but it is nonetheless hard not to interpret the film this way, seeing that Markoff knows absolutely nothing about Patricia as a person and first tries to blackmail only her father into letting her marry him, showing an extreme disinterest in the will of his future wife. The fact that she is finally rescued by her sick father and her incredibly jerky fiancé makes this reading even clearer.
So it's a (relatively) competent movie with some interesting aspects, although probably not a good starting point for viewers new to Poverty Row.
Darling of the Day (of course spoken by fiancé jerk):
"Funny people these foreigner!"
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Meme again
You are The Hierophant
Divine Wisdom. Manifestation. Explanation. Teaching.
All things relating to education, patience, help from superiors.The Hierophant is often considered to be a Guardian Angel.
The Hierophant's purpose is to bring the spiritual down to Earth. Where the High Priestess between her two pillars deals with realms beyond this Earth, the Hierophant (or High Priest) deals with worldly problems. He is well suited to do this because he strives to create harmony and peace in the midst of a crisis. The Hierophant's only problem is that he can be stubborn and hidebound. At his best, he is wise and soothing, at his worst, he is an unbending traditionalist.
What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Horror!? 62: The Ape (1940)
Doctor Adrien is a not especially well-loved doctor in a small American town. He is secretly working on a serum to cure polio. His favorite patient is the paralyzed Frances Clifford, a young woman who reminds him quite a bit of his dead daughter, whom he couldn't save from the same illness. But he needs (you guessed it) human spinal fluid to produce a working serum. Coincidence helps him with a great way to cover up his tracks: A murderous gorilla (who looks better than one can expect from a Monogram feature) escapes from a traveling circus. Adrien is able to kill it. He hides this fact and proceeds to search for his involuntary fluid donors in a costume made out of dead gorilla. Yes, he must be a genius.
Before watching The Ape I didn't know that Boris Karloff (playing Adrien, of course) did his slumming for Monogram, like Lugosi. To my disappointment the film is neither good nor bad enough too be really interesting. Karloff's acting is subdued where uncontrolled hamming is asked for and Curt Siodmak's script seems as if its author was a little ashamed to write an ape movie, but sadly not ashamed enough to do something interesting with the sub-genre. So the film ends up in the very special hell of mediocrity.
Before watching The Ape I didn't know that Boris Karloff (playing Adrien, of course) did his slumming for Monogram, like Lugosi. To my disappointment the film is neither good nor bad enough too be really interesting. Karloff's acting is subdued where uncontrolled hamming is asked for and Curt Siodmak's script seems as if its author was a little ashamed to write an ape movie, but sadly not ashamed enough to do something interesting with the sub-genre. So the film ends up in the very special hell of mediocrity.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Doctor Who 2008 episodes 04+05
Lesson of the Day: Militarism is bad. Who'd have thunk?
Now it's obvious - someone with a lot of sense had an idea for this season of the Doctor, namely the return to the pulp Science Fiction roots of the show.
I am the first to admit that this is a great idea, since it brings us bizarre invasion plans, mind control, evil clones, the theory that those who control the world's cars can control the world's future, explosions, Martha Jones, Agent of U.N.I.T., Sontarans, breakneck pacing and absurdly simple solutions to complex problems.
So yeah, this season (and this two-parter) is a lot of fun, but I find it a little disappointing to see that the writers seem to copy many of the flaws of pulp skiffy. All is well as long as there's action and absurd situations, but as soon as the characters' psychology comes into play, the show delivers only trite clichés. Come on, you couldn't really think of something better than the traitor who gets betrayed by his bosses and so redeems himself by doing the right thing? Oh look the companion's mother is...annoying! What a surprise! Whoa, no real person acts this way? But how else can the plot work? Or the beautiful character arc we developed in about five minutes on the loo!?
Still, this is much better than the earlier experiments in being intelligent and meaningful that only showed that the show's writers took itself for much more clever than they really are (episodes by Moffatt and Cornell obviously excluded - these people are clever).
A wish for the future: Could someone, anyone, please write a competent military commander? I am not a fan of the military at all, but this is just ridiculous.
Doctor Who 2008, episode 03
Lesson of the day: Slavery is bad. Who'd have thunk?
Again, this is a neat, very pulpy episode, again decently paced and entertaining enough. The worldbuilding could have used a little more (or any) thought though. I can't be the only one to think that the survivability of a species whose members carry their second brains in their hands is low to the point of no-existence. And - nice as they may look - the Ood's whole physical conception doesn't make any sense (even for the Doctorverse). They're completely humanoid, just with the face of Cthulhu and an outside brain that permanently blocks the usage of one of their hands!? What the fuck?
Again, this is a neat, very pulpy episode, again decently paced and entertaining enough. The worldbuilding could have used a little more (or any) thought though. I can't be the only one to think that the survivability of a species whose members carry their second brains in their hands is low to the point of no-existence. And - nice as they may look - the Ood's whole physical conception doesn't make any sense (even for the Doctorverse). They're completely humanoid, just with the face of Cthulhu and an outside brain that permanently blocks the usage of one of their hands!? What the fuck?
Doctor Who 2008, episode 2
Oooh, pulpy goodness! Old Pompeii a day before the eruption! True prophecies! Evil soothsayer cults! Sacrifices! Circuit boards made of marble! Stone monsters! Stone infestations! The Spock dilemma! A companion with a spine! A moral dilemma that kinda makes sense and does in ten minutes what Star Trek needed hours for! A volcanic eruption! The truth about history!
Doctor Who 2008 episode 1
I dreaded watching this a little bit, since Russel T. Davies' scripts tend to be less than tolerable at best, while his scripts for season opening episodes tend to be atrocious. But to my surprise this was actually quite decent.
Of course, Davies humor is still very much hit or miss, but at least half of the jokes were funny (obviously the ones where he is not trying so terribly hard to be funny - worst offender would be the Doctor and new companion Donna just barely not meeting half a dozen times). The more sentimental scenes were not very original, though still effective enough to make Donna actively interesting, especially through the relationship to her grandfather.
And the Adipodes are probably the cutest and most absurd little monsters in the history of the show. I want one just like that as a pet.
I can't even complain about the plotting. It was deeply silly in a good natured way and featured surprisingly little amounts of one of Davies' most annoying tics - the seemingly deep seated conviction that watching people run really really fast while bad music is playing in the background is incredibly exciting.
Of course, Davies humor is still very much hit or miss, but at least half of the jokes were funny (obviously the ones where he is not trying so terribly hard to be funny - worst offender would be the Doctor and new companion Donna just barely not meeting half a dozen times). The more sentimental scenes were not very original, though still effective enough to make Donna actively interesting, especially through the relationship to her grandfather.
And the Adipodes are probably the cutest and most absurd little monsters in the history of the show. I want one just like that as a pet.
I can't even complain about the plotting. It was deeply silly in a good natured way and featured surprisingly little amounts of one of Davies' most annoying tics - the seemingly deep seated conviction that watching people run really really fast while bad music is playing in the background is incredibly exciting.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
The Horror!? 61: Slave of the Cannibal God (1978)
It seems even I have standards. Standards that make it impossible for me to watch Italian cannibal movies like this one to the bitter end. I have no problem with the gut munching, but watching real animals getting tortured to death crosses a line I am not willing to cross.
Friday, May 2, 2008
The Horror!? 60: Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens (1922)
The Horror Classics Box Number 1 surprises here with a pretty decent looking print. What strikes me as strange is the changing of the character names in the intertitles back to the names from Stoker's Dracula (on which Nosferatu is loosely based). Someone must have thought this a good idea after the trouble Murnau had with Stoker's estate had faded. But why change "Wisburg" (in our reality Wismar) to Bremen? It's puzzling.
Quite bizarre acting real estate agent Knock/Renfield sends his young protégé Hutter/Harker to Transylvania to sell a house in Wisburg to a certain Count Orlok/Dracula. Hutter leaves behind his beloved wife Ellen/Nina (yes, I know that her name should be Mina) without a suspicion that he will soon unwittingly send plague and death back to his hometown.
I think I have already mentioned how much I tend to watch silent movies for their dreamlike qualities. This way I don't have the trouble accepting the reality of what I see that many people of my generation (at least those parts that actually know of their existence) seem to have with films this old and so far away from modern sensibilities.
More expressionist films like Nosferatu are not exactly making this difficult, since they never wanted to be naturalistic anyway. (Nothing ages as badly as yesterday's realism)
I can not add very much to the amount of clever things already written about this movie, so I'll just comment shortly on two points.
Firstly, I am awed by the effectiveness of Max Schreck as Orlok. His simple and effective make-up, but most of all his body language completely convince me of him as an ancient, terrible being, so out of touch with time and life itself he cannot bring anything but plague and death.
Secondly, does it seem strange if I see Ellen Hutter, who sacrifices herself to save her husband and her hometown in an act of astounding courage, as the mother of all courageous horror heroines?
Quite bizarre acting real estate agent Knock/Renfield sends his young protégé Hutter/Harker to Transylvania to sell a house in Wisburg to a certain Count Orlok/Dracula. Hutter leaves behind his beloved wife Ellen/Nina (yes, I know that her name should be Mina) without a suspicion that he will soon unwittingly send plague and death back to his hometown.
I think I have already mentioned how much I tend to watch silent movies for their dreamlike qualities. This way I don't have the trouble accepting the reality of what I see that many people of my generation (at least those parts that actually know of their existence) seem to have with films this old and so far away from modern sensibilities.
More expressionist films like Nosferatu are not exactly making this difficult, since they never wanted to be naturalistic anyway. (Nothing ages as badly as yesterday's realism)
I can not add very much to the amount of clever things already written about this movie, so I'll just comment shortly on two points.
Firstly, I am awed by the effectiveness of Max Schreck as Orlok. His simple and effective make-up, but most of all his body language completely convince me of him as an ancient, terrible being, so out of touch with time and life itself he cannot bring anything but plague and death.
Secondly, does it seem strange if I see Ellen Hutter, who sacrifices herself to save her husband and her hometown in an act of astounding courage, as the mother of all courageous horror heroines?
The Horror!? 59: Trauma (1978)
Fabio Testi (Italy's third important cop actor behind Maurizio Merli and Franco Nero, probably because he is always strangely mustache-less) plays Inspector DiSalvo who tries to solve the rape, mutilation and murder of a teenage girl. It doesn't take long for him to understand that she and her three best friends shared a dangerous secret, and soon the murders and murder attempts start to stack up. As if this wasn't enough, the proprietors of the exclusive boarding school that the girls attend, as well as some affluent parents aren't exactly helpful.
One of my pet theories is the absolute importance of stylization for the giallo. Nothing else is as important to decide the quality of a film in this sub-genre. Of course this does not necessarily mean that all gialli have to stylize the same things or stylize them in the same way, although many gialli tend to drift in the direction of a strangely softening stylization of violence and hysteria into something aesthetically pleasing (seen in many movies by Mario Bava or Dario Argento). Trauma chooses a somewhat different path, clearly influenced by Massimo Dallamano's What Have They Done To Solange and What Have They Done To Your Daughters and by the gritty but equally stylized hyper-realism of Italian cop movies. It takes from these sources its protagonist, its rougher (but no less accomplished) aesthetics and a deep distrust of authority figures.
And it does so very cleverly and just as self-conscious as necessary. Even the script makes an unusual degree of sense, although the final reveal is of classical giallo-weirdness.
One of my pet theories is the absolute importance of stylization for the giallo. Nothing else is as important to decide the quality of a film in this sub-genre. Of course this does not necessarily mean that all gialli have to stylize the same things or stylize them in the same way, although many gialli tend to drift in the direction of a strangely softening stylization of violence and hysteria into something aesthetically pleasing (seen in many movies by Mario Bava or Dario Argento). Trauma chooses a somewhat different path, clearly influenced by Massimo Dallamano's What Have They Done To Solange and What Have They Done To Your Daughters and by the gritty but equally stylized hyper-realism of Italian cop movies. It takes from these sources its protagonist, its rougher (but no less accomplished) aesthetics and a deep distrust of authority figures.
And it does so very cleverly and just as self-conscious as necessary. Even the script makes an unusual degree of sense, although the final reveal is of classical giallo-weirdness.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
To the Gaming interwebs
Yes, I really know that fucking GTA 4 is out, thank you very much. Strange how I couldn't miss it when every fucking gaming site, blog and intertube vomits the same shit at me for a fucking month.
And you know what? The more I had to hear about the damn thing, the less I wanted to play it.
And you know what? The more I had to hear about the damn thing, the less I wanted to play it.
The Horror!? 58: White Zombie (1932)
A pair of young lovers, Madeline and Neil, comes to Haiti to get married. They have been invited by an acquaintance of Madeline, the plantation owner Charles Beaumont, who not only invited the two to get married in his home, but also wants to hire Neil as his agent. What they don't know is that Beaumont is madly in love with Madeline and won't even stop at acquiring the services of the sinister Murder Legendre (played by Bela Lugosi!) to win her over. During the wedding banquet, Madeline seemingly dies, poisoned by Beaumont as the first step in her becoming one the Living Dead. But the plantation owner soon understands that he can't love a zombified Madeline and tries to persuade Legendre to take his curse back. Little does he know about Legendre's own infatuation with the woman. Although he will soon learn more than he wants about the man's unscrupulousness.
White Zombie is a veritable classic and even the battered print I watched shows very clearly why. Every single shot, every little angle is constructed to convey a very definite mood, so that soon the film seems to breathe an air of desolation and decay.
Technically it is a strange bastard. On one hand it consciously uses very anti-realistic sets, heavily influenced by German expressionist cinema of the silent era I think; camera work and cutting on the other were highly advanced and unusual for their time. Of course many of these techniques also look and feel very artificial, as does the acting. The genius lies in the way director Victor Halperin uses the all-around artificiality to convey mood and themes of White Zombie much clearer than a naturalistic approach could. Some of this leads directly to the production work of Val Lewton for RKO's horror unit ten years later.
Still, White Zombie remains a singular achievement.
The Horror!? 57: Legacy of Blood (1971)
Multimillionaire Christopher Dean dies and leaves his dysfunctional family and his equally disturbed servants with a slightly eccentric will: To qualify for a share of the legacy they have to live together for a week at the remote family mansion. The money will be shared between the survivors. And the survival of the flock seems doubtful even before a killer starts to pick them off one by one, since their dysfunctions include incest, sadism, masochism, alcoholism and lamps made out of dead nazis.
The best thing about sitting down on my couch, slapping a DVD into the player and watching a movie is the excitement if and when the film reaches a state of transcendence. When it stops being a mere movie and becomes something organic, possibly even alive. There are a few ways a movie can reach this mystical wholeness, one of them, the way Legacy of Blood chooses, is by being so inexplicably bad and weird that I just can't imagine how someone, anyone in his/her/its right mind could ever have thought making it was a good or at least sane idea. There is absolutely nothing right with this movie, the acting is unbelievable, the direction does nothing right, the cutting dissolves the film into moments that just don't fit. The script defies human description, and laughs at human comprehension. The most bizarre dialogue is uttered in ways I never thought possible. It's as if the proverbial monkeys had left their typewriters to try and make it in Hollywood.
Now, after I cried, after I laughed, after I stared in disbelief, after I tried to hide, after I succumbed to the seduction of the anti-sense equation, I finally understand what Hassan-i Sabbah meant when he spoke: "Nothing is true. Everything is permitted."
Darling of the Day:
"I think we're alone inside this patchwork of insanity."
The best thing about sitting down on my couch, slapping a DVD into the player and watching a movie is the excitement if and when the film reaches a state of transcendence. When it stops being a mere movie and becomes something organic, possibly even alive. There are a few ways a movie can reach this mystical wholeness, one of them, the way Legacy of Blood chooses, is by being so inexplicably bad and weird that I just can't imagine how someone, anyone in his/her/its right mind could ever have thought making it was a good or at least sane idea. There is absolutely nothing right with this movie, the acting is unbelievable, the direction does nothing right, the cutting dissolves the film into moments that just don't fit. The script defies human description, and laughs at human comprehension. The most bizarre dialogue is uttered in ways I never thought possible. It's as if the proverbial monkeys had left their typewriters to try and make it in Hollywood.
Now, after I cried, after I laughed, after I stared in disbelief, after I tried to hide, after I succumbed to the seduction of the anti-sense equation, I finally understand what Hassan-i Sabbah meant when he spoke: "Nothing is true. Everything is permitted."
Darling of the Day:
"I think we're alone inside this patchwork of insanity."
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
The Horror!? 56: Bluebeard (1944)
Napoleonic Paris is in an uproar. A killer dubbed "Bluebeard" stalks the streets, killing pretty women. What the public doesn't know, but the viewer learns quite early, is that the killer is the puppeteer and painter Gaston Morell. The man just can't seem to help it - every woman he paints has to die. But after he meets (and falls in love with) the modiste Lucille, he tries to change his life. If he can't stop killing the women he paints, he has to stop painting. Unfortunately this is easier said than done, especially thanks to his business partner, a greedy art dealer who never saw a coin he didn't want. And did I mention that Lucille's sister Francine works for the police?
For the means with which PRC (the company that made Monogram look like Warner Brothers) had to produce their films, Bluebeard looks genuinely lavish. Expensive seeming sets and high quality matte painting as can be seen here were of course typical of the work of director Edgar G. Ulmer at that time. As typical as the slightly greater psychological depth found here, certainly helped a lot by Ulmer's ability to drive bad and mediocre actors to surprisingly good performances. Even better is John Carradine's performance as Morell, one of the best of his career and much more understated than expected.
Having said all that I have to confess I found the film really not all that great. All elements of a very good movie are there, but they never unite to form a good movie. The whole venture just seems a little too conservative, a little too timid to be really good.
For the means with which PRC (the company that made Monogram look like Warner Brothers) had to produce their films, Bluebeard looks genuinely lavish. Expensive seeming sets and high quality matte painting as can be seen here were of course typical of the work of director Edgar G. Ulmer at that time. As typical as the slightly greater psychological depth found here, certainly helped a lot by Ulmer's ability to drive bad and mediocre actors to surprisingly good performances. Even better is John Carradine's performance as Morell, one of the best of his career and much more understated than expected.
Having said all that I have to confess I found the film really not all that great. All elements of a very good movie are there, but they never unite to form a good movie. The whole venture just seems a little too conservative, a little too timid to be really good.
The Horror!? 55: A Walking Nightmare (1942)
A typical mansion-owning rich guy with an equally typical squabbling family disappears without a trace. A friend hires ex-detective Nick Trayne (who now works as "Brother Trayne - The Sympathetic Ear") to find him. Before Trayne can actually start his investigation, the patriarch reappears. Unfortunately he has lost his mental faculties, since his brain has been (and I quote) "decorticated". Soon it seems as if he has also discovered his tendency for murder.
One of the better Monogram mystery comedies I have seen. The plot may be terminally stupid, but at least half of the jokes are funny and even somewhat effectively delivered. I'm always thankful for comedies this old that don't fall into the ancient slapstick routine of people running and shouting and then running some more ("Look Ma, ain't it funny!?? He's a coward!!!!"). The first half even has something that looks a lot like verve. Of course all verve disappears as soon as the convoluted plot tries to get going, but half a good movie is more than I expected going in.
One of the better Monogram mystery comedies I have seen. The plot may be terminally stupid, but at least half of the jokes are funny and even somewhat effectively delivered. I'm always thankful for comedies this old that don't fall into the ancient slapstick routine of people running and shouting and then running some more ("Look Ma, ain't it funny!?? He's a coward!!!!"). The first half even has something that looks a lot like verve. Of course all verve disappears as soon as the convoluted plot tries to get going, but half a good movie is more than I expected going in.
The Horror!? 54: Scared to Death (1947)
I am not entirely dumb when it comes to understanding movies. I can comprehend Primer without the use of a diagram and hate too much exposition, because it shows the arrogant disdain of a movie for its audience. But this film got me beat. It's about...well, who the hell knows? What I know is only the following: Scared to Death is narrated by a dead woman, Laura van Ee (but don't get hot and bothered just now, she is a very boring dead narrator - so boring that soon you'll wish her death had just shut her up), who tells us the convoluted and illogical happenings surrounding her death. You see, Laura was married to a man of wealth by accident. He got drunk at a party and made a bet to ask the singer on stage to marry him, obviously not believing she would say yes. So they marry and soon hate each other with great passion. Still, Laura denies her husband a divorce. Perhaps her nearly paranoid state of mind, her fear of green masks and blindfolds plus the fact that her father-in-law is a doctor with a shady past played by George Zucco will help her husband get rid of her in a different way? Or will Zucco's visiting estranged cousin Bela Lugosi, a stage magician with a professorial degree and a sidekick dwarf do something terrible? What about the guy in the green mask who sneaks around the house? Or the noisy reporter with the most grating voice I have ever heard? His dumb girlfriend? The rent-a-cop "comedic relief" who needs a murder to get reinstated in the police force (don't ask)?
Who knows? The scriptwriter certainly didn't and so kept himself entertained by throwing every piece of crap that came to his mind into the script, with a complete disregard for logic or even the most basic bit of sense. But the strangest thing is the inability of the movie to be entertaining. It's just boring and dumb and seems to run on and on to its equally senseless conclusion.
That the only color picture with Bela Lugosi (here completely off his game - the drugs, I suppose), has to be not only such a mess but also such a bore is another reason to stay an atheist.
If I don't seem to make much sense today, blame the movie. I certainly do.
Who knows? The scriptwriter certainly didn't and so kept himself entertained by throwing every piece of crap that came to his mind into the script, with a complete disregard for logic or even the most basic bit of sense. But the strangest thing is the inability of the movie to be entertaining. It's just boring and dumb and seems to run on and on to its equally senseless conclusion.
That the only color picture with Bela Lugosi (here completely off his game - the drugs, I suppose), has to be not only such a mess but also such a bore is another reason to stay an atheist.
If I don't seem to make much sense today, blame the movie. I certainly do.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
The Horror!? 53: Tormented (1960)
Jazz musician Tom has his share of problems, most of them brought about by his own lack of spine. He is eloped to Meg, the young daughter of a very rich man, but doesn't break up with his previous girlfriend Vi until shortly before the wedding. Vi doesn't accept this lying down and threatens to expose their unpleasant relationship. In the ensuing argument she falls to her death from the lighthouse of the island where the whole film takes place. Tom doesn't lift a finger to help her, although he well could. These things never go unpunished in horror films, so he soon has to cope with the extortionist agenda of a local captain as well as Vi's vengeful ghost. It's not easy to get married.
Compared to Bert I. Gordon's earlier giant monster movies like The Amazing Colossal Man, Tormented is a masterpiece of competence and style. Seen with a slightly less skewed perspective it is still a relatively watchable movie. The plot reminds me of a (sadly overlong) EC comic, not really all that well paced, but still hanging together quite well. The characters are more complex than one would expect, Tom is neither as evil as is often the case, nor sympathetic enough to inspire much compassion. All actors are doing their best with what the script gives them to work with and are what keeps the film functioning.
Which is an achievement when you keep in mind how little else the film has to offer. The special effects are atrocious and distract from what could be at least good ideas. Then there is the little problem called "Bert I. Gordon" who may once have heard the words "mood" or "camera movement", but sure as hell hasn't a clue about how to achieve them. Looking at it from this perspective it is a small wonder how basically decent the film is.
Compared to Bert I. Gordon's earlier giant monster movies like The Amazing Colossal Man, Tormented is a masterpiece of competence and style. Seen with a slightly less skewed perspective it is still a relatively watchable movie. The plot reminds me of a (sadly overlong) EC comic, not really all that well paced, but still hanging together quite well. The characters are more complex than one would expect, Tom is neither as evil as is often the case, nor sympathetic enough to inspire much compassion. All actors are doing their best with what the script gives them to work with and are what keeps the film functioning.
Which is an achievement when you keep in mind how little else the film has to offer. The special effects are atrocious and distract from what could be at least good ideas. Then there is the little problem called "Bert I. Gordon" who may once have heard the words "mood" or "camera movement", but sure as hell hasn't a clue about how to achieve them. Looking at it from this perspective it is a small wonder how basically decent the film is.
Monday, April 28, 2008
[Rec] (2007)
We now interrupt our regularly scheduled program of reviews of old horror movies for a review of a relatively new one. I was able to get my hands on the Spanish original of [Rec] just before the American remake can annoy me (and I'm quite sure that it will).
A reporter and a cameraman of a local TV station in a Spanish city have the privilege to watch and film two firemen at work. They follow a seemingly routine emergency call into a small apartment building. Sooner than you can scream "Brains!" they, and the inhabitants of the building have to cope with the not that routine case of a full grown zombie outbreak. At least the Spanish authorities are acting fast and decisive. Too bad that their preferred way to deal with the crisis consists of totally isolating the building. Oh well.
I'm waiting for the backlash against the children of The Blair Witch Project any day now, but at the moment we (that is people of impeccable taste like me) can still enjoy the promiscuous tendencies of horror film makers around the world, who will not rest until every possible sub-genre has at least one entry full of fake found footage, shaking digital video and night vision.
As long as these films stay as entertaining as [Rec] I'm all for it. Of course the movie is not original in the least, but directors Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza use the loss of distance the film's concept provides to very effective ends. As if screaming and running zombies at close quarters weren't effective enough by themselves.
[Rec] does not add much to the huge load of subtext the zombie film carries around (the seldom seen, and here just intimated, zombie explanation it uses notwithstanding), instead chooses to present itself with the intensity of classic punk rock.
A reporter and a cameraman of a local TV station in a Spanish city have the privilege to watch and film two firemen at work. They follow a seemingly routine emergency call into a small apartment building. Sooner than you can scream "Brains!" they, and the inhabitants of the building have to cope with the not that routine case of a full grown zombie outbreak. At least the Spanish authorities are acting fast and decisive. Too bad that their preferred way to deal with the crisis consists of totally isolating the building. Oh well.
I'm waiting for the backlash against the children of The Blair Witch Project any day now, but at the moment we (that is people of impeccable taste like me) can still enjoy the promiscuous tendencies of horror film makers around the world, who will not rest until every possible sub-genre has at least one entry full of fake found footage, shaking digital video and night vision.
As long as these films stay as entertaining as [Rec] I'm all for it. Of course the movie is not original in the least, but directors Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza use the loss of distance the film's concept provides to very effective ends. As if screaming and running zombies at close quarters weren't effective enough by themselves.
[Rec] does not add much to the huge load of subtext the zombie film carries around (the seldom seen, and here just intimated, zombie explanation it uses notwithstanding), instead chooses to present itself with the intensity of classic punk rock.
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