Showing posts with label aliens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label aliens. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 8, 2019

Starcrash (1978), by Luigi Cozzi



It's time.

As far as I understand, Starcrash is an equal of Troll 2 and Birdemic as far as Famous Bad Movies go. Maybe it's not as famous--but until Troll 2 kicked off its reign as a Bad Movie Prince, Starcrash was possibly the most famous Bad Movie made by someone from Italy. Nearly everything about Starcrash is done badly in some way, but the cohesive whole is never annoying or agonizing. Far from it--the film is pure trash fun, in a nearly classical sense, and some parts are even done (mostly) well. Of course, there's the fairly obvious caveat--see that title? See that release year? Hope you're ready to take the fast train to Cashinsville.

This movie opens with a shot which has by now become classic--thanks to a different movie. Hmm, what other science fantasy motion picture came out in the late '70s that opened with a spaceship flying away from the camera, descending off the top of the screen? The name escapes me at present. Anyway, our decently impressive starship is manned by a bunch of guys who look like the Time Lord Chancellery Guards from Doctor Who. We will learn later that they serve the Galactic Emperor...who is a good guy in this one! See, this movie is totally original. The Imperial crew are wiped out by flashing red lights, which the film's characters insist on calling "red monsters." Um, sure. They use the same effect to make the stars of the space scenes, changing the red lights to white. Anyway, after the rampage of the "red monsters," we cut to our heroes, smugglers Stella Star and Akton. They are on the run from the Imperial authorities, represented by a green, bald, human-like alien named Thor and a robot named L. Thor's green skin ends at his neck in some shots, and L speaks with a Yosemite Sam accent. Later, he'll turn out to be a coward because they couldn't have him roll around and speak in beeps. Stella and Akton escape but end up at the border of "the Haunted Stars," a deathzone of uncharted cosmic territories. Here, they find the Imperial ship, with a single survivor left aboard. Before he dies, Akton reads his mind, because as we will learn wayyyy later in the movie, Akton has the Force PSYCHIC POWERS. Stella and her friend contemplate contacting the Emperor to let them know what happened on one of his missions, because they are the Good Samaritan sort of smugglers. The choice is removed from their hands when it turns out Thor and L managed to track them after all. They are arrested and tried by what I swear to God is the thing from the end of the 1953 Invaders from Mars, stolen wholesale and dubbed and greenscreened over. What's weird about this trial is that the not-Martian sentences Stella to 200 years hard labor, but then sentences Akton to life imprisonment as well as hard labor. This is odd because normally 200 years is a life sentence, but this is the future, so who knows.

Speaking of the future, did you know that leather bikinis will become standard for female prison laborers in the centuries yet to come? Well, actually, it's just for Stella Star. Don't know what makes her special, but she'll keep on wearing this outfit for damn near the rest of the movie. There are multiple opportunities for her to change, but she just sort of doesn't. I guess it would be comfy if you did a lot of running on planets where modesty wasn't a huge issue. Stella is surprised when Thor and L show up to collect her--she and Akton are no longer the Emperor's prisoners, but his guests. They were the ones who met the dying guard, after all, which gives them at least a tangential reason to meet with the ruler of the galaxy. The Emperor--whose privileged, uncertainly-ironic air gives him a strange resemblance to Prequel Palpatine--asks Stella, Akton, Thor, and L to go into the Haunted Stars and looks for the "phantom planet" of his evil counterpart, the wicked Count Zarth Arn. Indeed, it was Zarth Arn who sent the "red monsters" to attack the Imperial ship, which was one of several being sent into the Stars to combat the Count under the command of the Emperor's son. As with all the crew of all the ships who sought Zarth Arn's planet, the Prince has been lost, and the Emperor fears the worst. Stella promises to bring him back one or another, and the quartet leaves, with all prior grudges seemingly erased.

The first planet they go to sets up a formula which will follow for much of the rest of the film. Stella and L take the ship's shuttle down to the planet, while Akton and Thor stay aboard and uh. Tend to the machinery, I guess. Or maybe they "tend to the machinery"--hey, it's a great way to deal with boredom. When we do cut to Akton in the ship, he's practicing making plasma rings or something with his psychic powers. As she explores the beach, Stella utters one of the best lines of a movie made up of best lines: "Oh my God! Amazons on horseback!" L's reply is relaxed, despite his newly-acquired and oft-proclaimed nervousness: "I hope they're friendly." They are not. They take the pair back to their queen, an ally of Zarth Arn's, and when they try to escape they attack L en masse. This movie is another occasion outside of Death Note where I must be careful spoiling that L dies. Except not really--he just gets back up and saves Stella, but not before the smuggler learns from the Amazon queen that Zarth Arn's planet is protected by two guardians. The movie does remember this later, but the payoff is really stupid. Stella and L try to go back to the ship, when they are attacked by--and I'm not kidding here--a giant humanoid stop-motion robot with enormous spherical tits, complete with giant blown-out industrial nipples. The not-Harryhausen creature stumbles after them but they manage to get away safe and sound. Of course, they have to shoot down some Amazon fighter ships along the way, in a sequence which is similar to the TIE fighter scene from A New Hope in spirit if not in totality.

The next planet is an ice-world, just like in Star W--wait, hold on. This movie came out before The Empire Strikes Back. Surely it's just a coincidence, and not an instance of George Lucas having seen this movie. Anyway, it turns out Thor is a traitor, and he plans to leave Stella and L on the planet to die, after having seemingly killed Akton with a single karate chop. Akton is a little bit stronger than that, though, and shoots lasers out of his hands to kill Thor (making a creepy murder-face in the process); he saves Stella and L, but not before they have a genuinely cute bonding moment where they call each other friends and reminisce about how far they've come since the days of fighting each other. It turns out Akton knew Thor would betray them because he has future-vision. When Stella reasonably asks, "Why did you never tell me about this before?" his reply is totally amazing: "Because if I told you the future, that would be changing the future, and that is against the law." (Emphasis mine, but some words don't need to be spoken intensely to be emphatic.) I assume this is a weird dubbing thing, and they mean, like, the laws of reality, but I love the idea of the Emperor meticulously studying the future and then enforcing its flow no matter what, including the parts of it which don't go well for him, and dispatching time-cops--dressed perhaps even more ludicrously than their chronally-bound counterparts--to punish those who try to change the future. All while pretending not to know what's going on.

In orbit over the third planet, the heroes' ship is attacked by the "red monsters," but Akton reveals that they are actually a psychic illusion. While on the planet, Stella and L are attacked by cavemen. While the pair hold their own, the cavemen are great in number, and they attack L en masse. This movie is another occasion outside of Death Note where I must be--oh goddamnit! This movie needs to stop repeating itself. This time, L is really, truly dead, at least for now. Stella has been kidnapped and is about to be cooked and eaten when she is rescued by a figure in a fish-man mask. He takes the mask  off of his head, and reveals his true identity: DAVID HASSELHOFF. Again, I am not kidding, it is actually Hasselhoff. Hasselhoff with a fuckton of eyeliner, no less. This is Simon, and he is the only surviving Imperial from the original wave of ships that entered the Haunted Stars. He and Stella run into Akton, who whips out a lightsaber (there's no other name for it) and cuts down the cavemen who were chasing them. He then says that the red monsters and the cavemen were the twin guardians spoken of by the queen of the Amazons--thus, the planet which contained the last survivor of the Emperor's mission was conveniently also the base of Zarth Arn's they were looking for. Those are not interesting guardians, although the Count has a pair of really shitty stop-motion robots to protect him--a simple dialogue transplant would have fixed some things, because it's more likely to me from a story perspective that these robots are the guardians, and not two unrelated, random menaces. It turns out that Simon is, of course, the Prince, and the Count is using him as bait to come to the phantom planet--whereupon he will blow it up in his face, killing the galactic ruler alongside his son and the two smugglers. But Akton breaks loose and kills the robots with his lightsaber, sustaining fatal injuries in the process. He refuses to save himself because changing the future is against the law and everything. But he dies giving the universe a better chance.

It seems that Stella and Simon are doomed to die anyway, because they can't escape the planet--however, the Emperor appears and announces he has powers of his own. At that, he commands: "Imperial Battleship...stop the flow of time!" That ship can suspend time, alright, but it can't suspend my disbelief. The Emperor announces the final plan, which involves crashing his flying city into Zarth Arn's fleet--a Starcrash, as it were. The last battle begins, pitting good against evil in a fight to the death.

Starcrash does its best to do good with plundered loot. While there are countless scenes and moments shamelessly plucked from the vine that grew from Star Wars, the sets and costumes usually have some sort of creative image apparent in them. It is entirely possible that the design team had seen episodes of Doctor Who, as that aesthetic is present too. There are odd European touches here, as well as Flash Gordon. Yet all of these elements work in their own pulpy goofiness--this is a space opera, after all, and opera is nothing if not garish. This movie is surprisingly sexless for an Italian film of this vintage. But like the model it "borrows" from, Starcrash is more concerned with an unquestioning, un-cynical world which could appeal to children as well as adults, rather than the universes of anything that the Umberto Lenzis and Bruno Matteis of the world would ordinarily turn out. Hope is valuable in Star Wars, and that Starcrash preserves the hopeful atmosphere of its better counterpart is vital. It's a bit easier to believe in the cheapness, because at no point do you feel that the characters would get annoyed watching their own movie. The scene with Stella and L on the ice-planet is, as I said, genuinely affecting, and while Akton was kind of a tool who did mysterious things for dumb reasons, his death is upsetting because we care about Stella and we know by this point how dear Akton is to her. Also, with lovable robots being more popular than ever, it's hard to watch L's longer-lasting second death, even if he does come back in a new body for the finale. A lot of people, including myself, like to say things that try to synopsize cinema as a whole, and I want to avoid universal conclusions because I love movies for how amorphous they are--all the shapes they can take, all the games they can play. But I will abide by a broad and general maxim that Good Characters + Entertaining Events = Good Movie. I don't know what I need aside from compelling characters and interesting things for them to do. Throw in a Good Message and we've got something going here.

Of course, Starcrash is very funny, and not on purpose. I think my favorite scene is the one in the final battle where Zarth Arn's idea of leading his men is standing on a catwalk shouting "Kill! Kill!" over and over again. Maybe that's all I need. I don't know what I need, actually, but I seem to keep finding great things in life anyway. Starcrash is most certainly one of them.

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Wednesday, October 17, 2018

Thursday, July 19, 2018

Mutilations (1986), by Larry Thomas



Cattle mutilations, Roswell, the Tunguska Blast. And amazingly bad claymation. Welcome to Mutilations!

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Thursday, March 8, 2018

Horror Express (1972), by Eugenio Martin



We're going to be doing two train movies over the next two weeks, and if you've been keeping up on things here on the A-List, you can guess what the second one is going to be. For now, we'll be covering Horror Express, a legendarily bizarre Spanish-British sci-fi movie starring Hammer greats Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing. Forever full of unexpected twists, Horror Express brings more than just star power to the table, and while it somehow manages to be boring at times, it's definitely not something horror fans will want to pass on.

In 1906, Dr. Saxton (Lee) is transporting some very precious cargo back to England from Tibet--the frozen mummy of a 2 million year old proto-human creature which may have ties to the yeti. He is irritated by the presence of an old colleague of his, Dr. Wells (Cushing), who is overly curious about the nature of his finding. Before boarding the Transiberian Express, he is additionally irritated by a priest, who tells him his cargo is of the Devil--a statement somewhat easy to believe, given the dead man with the turned-white pupils found mysteriously at the perimeter of the crate; similarly, the priest is unable to draw a cross on the crate with chalk. Saxton, being Christopher Lee, dismisses all of this as rubbish and poppycock and soon he, Wells, and the yeti are aboard the train. Wells eventually pays a porter (VICTOR ISRAEL!!!) to peer inside the crate, but little does he knows that doing so will awaken the yeti's demonic presence. It slowly transpires that the "yeti" was merely the host body for something ancient...and alien. Indeed, by gazing into the retinal images of the dead yeti (in invocation of optography, my favorite pseudoscience) they determine that whatever was wearing the yeti was an extraterrestrial presence left behind on Earth 2 million years prior. All that time, this creature has been waiting for a chance to escape--and it doesn't care who it has to possess or slaughter to leave Earth.

Though there are suggestions of the supernatural--or rather, the super-scientific, for one can assume the alien's powers of possession are merely an evolutionary quirk of its race rather than an employment of magic--from the get-go, I seriously went into this just expecting a yeti-on-a-train movie. That in itself would be pretty fascinating, especially with Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, Victor Israel, and (though I did not mention him in the synopsis) Telly Savalas in tow. Savalas plays a ruthless Russian cossack who boards the train to investigate the deaths, and mostly ends up manhandling the passengers until he learns too late about the alien. Without the alien, however, this movie probably wouldn't end up in A-List territory. For without the alien, we would not have the climax where Christopher Lee fights off an army of zombies, a feat which he probably never replicated.

I really cannot understate how much subverted expectations help this movie. Even in small ways. I bet you'd never see a movie made in Franco's Spain starring the leads of the infamously-conservative Hammer Horror franchises suggest that there are powers which God Himself can't save us from. The question of faith is a big one in this movie and it is never entirely answered--merely explored. I feel it sort of works better that way, raising chicken-or-egg questions on the nature of mythology. Does the alien resemble a demon because it actually comes from Hell, or is it that ancient humans were inspired to create tales of demonic beings because of encounters with the creature? I've always enjoyed stories like this, and that it tells such a story with a light touch is definitely a high point.

The alien also invokes another expected trope when it tries to convince its human enemies that if they let it live, it will use its superior knowledge to get rid of hunger and disease. It's a trick, of course, and we don't even know if that's something the alien can do. But even if it can't, it's a testament to the alien's psychology that it employs this trick. It has learned to be a demon--and demons tempt people. That's how they get you.

Again, the movie does manage to drag in places, but originality is a mighty queen. Horror Express constantly innovates and deconstructs its own ideas while never coming across as silly or ass-pull-y for such. Alien invasion movies set in the early 1900s are rare anyway, so it's totally worth it to check out this one.

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Wednesday, November 29, 2017

The Primal Essence: The Mudman's Top Ten New Views of 2017

2017 saw a lot of growth for the A-List! I found a comfortable schedule wherein I could squeeze in three reviews a week, and I intend to hang onto that schedule for as long as I can. I opened a Patreon, which has been an exciting experience so far. I posted a bad movie sci-fi novella. I was able to find nine weird books to talk about--not as many as I'd hoped, but that's what next year is for. It was a marvelous time and I can't tell you how glad I was to have this site to go back to whenever the real world came down too hard on me. The fact that so many of you kept showing up week after week made it all the better. I may curate its entries, but it's really you guys who build my A-List...you're all on my A-List of People. You are the finest souls I know.

The movies on this list are the cream of the crop. They tore my heart from my chest and shook up my soul. I hope you track them down if you haven't already because they will reshape your life for the better. Well, actually, it's for the worse. But in a good way. Capiche?

FROM BEST TO BESTEST:


#10 - I AM HERE...NOW, by Neil Breen

It is only out of a stubborn respect for the later entries of this list that Mr. Breen ended up at the number ten spot...otherwise this one would be much higher. I Am Here...Now was the best possible introduction to Breen I could(n't)'ve hoped for. I've seen some pretty bizarre Ancient Alien stories over the years, but this one takes the cake--Breen is a sign that Weird Film is far from dead, even as the Intentional Bad Movies try to take their cut from the legacy spawned by the people whom Breen now succeeds. May self-awareness never touch you, Neil, ol' buddy. I'm so glad I have the rest of your filmography to discover.


#9 - THE PHANTOM COWBOY, by Robert J. Horner / SMOKING GUNS, by Alan James

A dirty stinkin' tie! I knew I had to have one B-Western on here and no matter how much boiling down I did I couldn't pick one of these over the other. Smoking Guns is definitely the "better" movie, but the sheer shittiness of The Phantom Cowboy makes it feel truly alien. I'm starting to doubt I'll find Westerns weirder than these two, but if these are the best there are I'm in good company. I've definitely raised a lot of eyebrows in my time talking about the movies I watch with the people I know in Real Life. They've never been raised higher than when I tried to describe these two.


#8 - DRUMS O' VOODOO, by Arthur Hoerl

'Cause the drums make me happy...drums make me happy...my feelings on the so-called "race pictures" have shifted somewhat since I wrote this review due to some things I've learned about them (i.e. creative control was not in the hands of the actual black performers as much as I thought), but there's no taking away the talent from Drums O' Voodoo's cast. Aunt Hagar is still one of my favorite movie characters of all time, and to my dying day I won't forget the time she fucking sassed off Jesus. At this point, I feel I've seen every voodoo movies there is, but there's something deeply special about this one. I'm (ideally) getting a new copy soon, which may be from a different print...I may have to write something up if it turns out the lost footage is in this version.


#7 - JUNGLE TRAP, by James Bryan

I don't like getting hyped for movies because it's so easy for those sorts of hopes to get dashed. But not when James Bryan and Renee Harmon are at the helm. My heart nearly exploded when I learned this was a thing and it was a tough sweat waiting for it to come out. But it was worth it. Farewell to a pair of great careers...you guys made my life, one last time. Oh, how I wish you still had one left in you.


#6 - SWEET TRASH, by John Hayes

Now we're slipping into the New Weird. For me, that is. I spent so much of my life thinking I'd seen all the greats, but then this year came along and I started to see some trippy fucking shit. Sweet Trash is apparently not overly beloved even among trashsters, which is saddening. This movie dips into territory both grim and hilarious, often without warning, in the best of ways. As far as boggy-surreal nightmares go, this one just barely beat out Disconnected and Euridice BA 2037, which would make a great triple feature with this.


#5 - NIGHTMARE ALLEY, by Edmund Goulding

Gotta have at least one legitimately good movie on here. I guess this Ty Power guy is hot stuff, huh? Well, even if I had known that at the time, I would've been swept off my feet by this movie. A clammy, greasy, disconcerting expose of circus life, this one fits in perfectly with some of my other favorites from this year like The Unknown and The Amazing Mr. X, but this one is the best of all of them. I've been watching a lot of Hollywood dramas from the '40s now in the wake of sitting down for this three times in a row. I hope they won't make me sick.


#4 - BLOODY WEDNESDAY, by Mark G. Gilhuis

When I was writing the list I kept putting this on here for some reason. I'd take it off, asking myself, "Wha...really?" Then I would rewatch it and remember everything. For a while I would just quote that goddamn teddy bear, voice and everything, and sometimes people would hear me and worry about my health. Simultaneously the most depressing and hilarious movie about mental illness I've seen, Bloody Wednesday is so unsure of what the heck it's supposed to be that it becomes a psychedelic trance. I've found for myself a new classic of the slasher (?) genre, which isn't an easy feat these days.


#3 - INFRASEXUM, by Carlos Tobalina

Yes, I like this one more than Flesh and Bullets, because I'm a sucker. It's almost unbelievable to me that this was Tobalina's debut. This is a ballsy film to make under any circumstances, and yet porn is a weird thing, and thus he built a whole career out of this. I wasn't expecting to get a Pseudo-Philosophical Voiceover-Journal Inner-Quest Movie that also had a disembowelment scene, but at this point, I should know better. Art and trash go well together and this is a great example of how they pulled that off in the late '60s.


#2 - GRETTA, by John Carr

No explanation. It's not even based off the book--it just exists. It's like 35 movies got stuck in a blender and the director drank the result, and the camera implanted in his brain recorded everything he saw afterward. Or, alternatively, it was originally an 8-hour mega-epic like von Stroheim's Greed and they cut out too many reels. Why should we care about this occasionally-creepy romance when there are killer beetles...and vice versa? Better yet, it has a "sequel." If you count movies that recut other movies to make them even more confusing as "sequels," that is.


#1 - THE TELEPHONE BOOK, by Nelson Lyon

The best. The Holy Grail. This is why I got into reviewing movies. I laughed, I screamed. I could go on forever but The Telephone Book is really good, okay? Every new scene brought fresh surprises that I could never have expected--which is really what cinematic media is meant to be about. For a movie about sex, it felt like sex...it kept building, and building, and building, and then there was that ending and there was such joy. A vulgar, mind-boggling cartoon brought to life, I'll never see anything like it again; but then, I was lucky enough to see it in the first place. 

AND THE BOOK OF THE YEAR IS... *DRUMROLL PLEASE*
...
...
...


THE UNHOLY THREE, by Tod Robbins

Man, I sure read a lot of bullshit this year. How could the Book of the Year be anything but this when the competition was Space Jason and voodoo sharks? The Unholy Three is a weirdly kinetic pulp pseudo-masterpiece, whose presence on this list means I can live with myself for not including The Unknown. Lon Chaney is a powerful figure even when he's not directly involved; and besides all that Tod Robbins is an accomplished enough writer to keep me hooked. Next year I'm gonna grab a copy of Robbins' "Spurs" to take a look back at the origin of Freaks, and this book will get a mention, as I've said, when I get to touching on Todd Browning's The Devil-Doll. Robbins also wrote a book called Mysterious Mr. Martin, which looks like a delight. More to follow!

So that's 2017! See you next year! I loved all the time we spend together and I can't wait to start again soon. In the meantime, you can check out the $1 tier on my Patreon to hear some of my Movie Thoughts. Otherwise...keeping dreaming, true believers!

Friday, September 8, 2017

D.T. in 'Dawg Territory' (1988), by Chuck Schodowski



Let me see if I can even begin to name all the cash-ins and ripoffs of Spielberg's E.T. that have emerged over the years.

There are the two Turkish ones, Badi and Homoti. There are at least five or six porno spoofs. We can't forget about Pod People...or Mac and Me...and now, there is D.T. Hallelujah! D.T. in 'Dawg Territory' (because Single Quotes Are Cool) was a short video made by the Cleveland Browns alongside the barbarian fantasy epic Masters of the Gridiron, probably in a gesture of fanservice to Browns fans. Both films became something entirely else--something which man was perhaps not meant to witness. But we'll see. We'll see if our minds are ready to take the long step into the depths of Dawg Territory.

D.T. of the Planet K9 is on his way to the Intergalactic Fetchball Championship when he is knocked off course by his rival team, the evil Zomalians! (They keep saying it as "Somalians" which makes it awkward.) If D.T.'s team has to play without him they will lose, and if they lose, the Zomalians will take control of the galaxy; "Tyranny and bloodshed shall surely follow," D.T. helpfully explains. Fortunately, the humans who found D.T., and supplied him with his trademark Hershey's Kisses, are the kindly gentlemen of the Cleveland Browns, including Bob Golic, Dan Fike, and Tim Manoa. (I love writing sentences that are meaningless to me.) It isn't long before D.T. is captured by the Zomalians, led by their Thundercats-reject Queen and her right-hand demon, Revoltar. Revoltar looks like if Jack Kirby's Etrigan decided to rob the wardrobe of Scorpion from Mortal Kombat. This leads to a training sequence of a bunch of NFL dudes grabbing camo and guns to storm the enemy ship and rescue their buddy, highlighted in great detail with a soundtrack that wouldn't seem out of place in Lady Street Fighter.

D.T. in 'Dawg Territory' is what happens if pure juvenile id vomits on the camera lens. It's a strangely sobering experience to witness these colossal beefy chaps, so typically associated with masculine seriousness, display an innocent and earnest eagerness for shooting lizard-aliens with beam-rifles. Or having lightsaber fights with cat-people. All while channeling what the '80s considered the kid's movie to end all kid's movies. Perhaps the majority of their delight comes from the prospect of this being a blast for their kid fans, but in a way, this was probably a relief from the image football players are ordinarily required to maintain. Again, all of my speculation comes from faulty understanding--I know nothing about football, outside of what I've seen in this movie and Masters of the Gridiron. There may be worlds of information encoded deep in this movie that I'll never understand unless I watch tons of '80s football reruns. All I see, from my perspective, is a bunch of guys enjoying themselves with a man dressed in a dog costume. That's all I need.

And the movie isn't badly shot, either. Director Chuck Schodowski knows what he's doing, as far as duplicating shots from other movies. I don't know where I've seen the shot of a group of camo-clad troops striding out of an orange-lit fog before, but it's generic enough where it's probably a 4th-generation ripoff of something big. Schodowski's like a junior Bruno Mattei, and it's wonderful. I think it's also appropriate that the director of this nerdy football movie is named "Schodowki." That's like the secret last name of every white person's football-loving dad. Who probably gets over-nostalgic about all the trash from the '80s, including E.T.

Running not even a full half-hour, D.T. in 'Dawg Territory' is an almost-literally one-of-a-kind movie that shows a strange side to football, even if you do happen to be familiar with The Sports. It makes a great double-feature with the similarly-short Masters of the Gridiron, a love-letter to '80s fantasy in the same way this is a tribute to '80s sci-fi. Both of them are on YouTube, too, so shoestring fans rejoice.

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Friday, July 14, 2017

Plaga Zombie (1997), by Pablo Parés and Hernán Sáez



A young man is wandering through Bubble-Lens Alley after midnight. He is jumped by a gang of skunk-striped punks with incredibly bizarre facepaint--thankfully, he is saved at the last minute by a mysterious beer-drinking interloper. It turns out, however, that said interloper is a zombie! Cut to the apartment of Mike Taylor and his roommate, former doctor Bill Johnson. Johnson is depressed after losing his license to practice following "the accident," and spends most of his day clipping the leaves off of ferns. As we meet Mike and Bill, we also learn the story of John West and Willie Boxer, two ex-wrestlers--the former wants to get back in the ring with his old partner, while the other just wants to sit in bed and smoke. Eventually Mike is abducted by aliens, who cut him open and rub bubble gum on the back of his neck. Okay, that stuff on his back isn't actually bubble gum--it's more that the skin on the back of his neck (and his whole back) is beginning to rot off. And the same thing is happening to Willie, which is the source of his lethargy, in fact. Bill and John join forces, along with Bill's geek neighbor Max, in a desperate struggle against the extraterrestrially-powered living dead. It is this struggle which will consume the rest of the movie until the inevitable downbeat ending.

Plaga Zombie may be Argentina's first zombie film, and if the efforts that follow this one are anything like it, my world just got a little bigger and brighter. It can be tough to watch a lot of horror comedies, especially from the '90s...and especially if zombies are involved. That even the analysis of the idiocy of the scores of thousands of bad zombie movies made over the years is now exhausted is a sign that unless someone does have that startlingly-good fresh idea, the genre is beyond dead, and indeed beyond any sort of topical joke about undeath as well. The one mercy of being bludgeoned with so many of these awful movies is that I've gotten used to knowing when exactly to turn something off. Plaga Zombie, however, looked like a positive outing at first glance, and I'm glad to say it lived up to my initial optimism.

The first realization I came to after watching the movie was how exactly it accomplished its blend of horror and comedy so nicely--besides being just an hour long, that is. Unlike the makers of a lot of horror comedies, directors Parés and Sáez are aware that the best horror comedies are ones where the comedy breaks the tension, and logically plays off of the story the horror parts set up. Rarely are there asides in Plaga Zombie--compare it to Poultrygeist, which will gleefully interrupt its own non-narrative just to bring us a close-up shot of a greasy butthole shitting on the camera. The goofiness comes out in the form of slapstick during the fight scenes, or the actors mugging; sometimes we do cut to something else, but it's always brief, like the cutaway to the zombie giggling stupidly as it tazes itself in the face with a defibrillator. As a result, the movie is actually funny. It doesn't explain its jokes; it doesn't repeat them until they lose all coherence; it doesn't dwell on any one bit for an uncomfortably long time. If you laugh, you laugh. If you don't, you wait for the next part. It's plain and simple.

While the movie never succeeds in being actually creepy, it is still an extremely professional effort. Plaga Zombie was made for a shocking $120, and it contains more actors and extras than movies I've seen made for a thousand times as much. If Parés and Sáez were not film students, they were auto-didacts from having watched a tremendous deal of movies, one of which was almost certainly Evil Dead. The cinematography is almost always appropriate in framing and mobility, and it's one of the few movies I've seen that uses a bubble-lens in a way that works. And the effects are suitably grotesque, as well. Partly-melted Neopolitan ice cream makes surprisingly impressive zombie vomit, while a lot of filmmakers could learn from how cake frosting can be used to make undead face-paint. There wasn't a single moment where I wasn't entertained by the movie, and that's not even getting into the weird shit.

There's one "weird shit" scene in particular I want to highlight, which is Max's introduction. Let's just that as much as this movie threw me, I wasn't expecting to hear Leonard Nimoy rasp out the "Final Frontier" speech as presented in Star Trek: The Motion Picture. What's confusing about this scene is that Max is in a chatroom on his computer, talking to someone named "Kirk"! These circumstances don't really justify themselves outside of establishing that Max, a mathematician, is nerdy, which is funny because Max has a relatively small role in the film.

But of course I'm ignoring the main thing I liked about Plaga Zombie: more than any other Kids Goofing Off movie I've seen so far, it reminded me of the movies I used to make with my friends. All those silly half-comedies about ninjas and bigfoot and Sausage Kings...those were the days. We knew what sort of movies we wanted to make ours like, but it was impossible to ignore putting in our own idiosyncracies as well. And in the case of the movies of my past, this meant a lot of dumb inside jokes which were nonetheless pretty hilarious at the time. But the makers of Plaga Zombie, as I've said, took a very professional approach to their work, and consequently their output is more soberingly fluid than anything I put together.

The production company responsible for Plaga Zombie, Farsa Producciones, has been generous enough to put the movie and its two sequels up on YouTube, so you have no excuse to miss this. I will probably never recommend a zombie comedy ever again, so this is a pretty big deal!

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Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Alien Lover (1975), by Lela Swift



I grew up on TV movies, to an extent. Specifically, I was nurtured on the foul stunting brew of the Sci-Fi Original Movies. I don't know if they still do these movies, but for those of you who haven't had a chance to see them: they were extremely cheap two-hour sci-fi action movies that typically ended up better than a lot of direct-to-video stuff of a similar type. The CGI was awful (though still not the worst I've seen) and the plots were flimsy as hell, focusing on getting both the computer-generated creatures and the celebrity or "celebrity" guest star (Lou Diamond Phillips, Bruce Boxleitner) out in front of the camera as soon as possible. No emphasis was put on horror aside from generically borrowing cinematic techniques from straight-to-video horror movies from a decade past. There was a sense of good fun about the whole thing, along with a sincerity in their dedication to producing modern day monster movies, which lasted until they decided their next marketing strategy involved assuming their audience were idiots, leading to such decrepit husks as the Sharknado series. I'd forgotten until recently what power TV movies have due to my disillusionment with Sci-Fi, but as with B-Westerns, it turns out that I was turning up my nose at a gold mine. I keep finding reports of TV movies that transcend the borderline-reactionary conservatism that apparently afflicts the TV movie industry, such as it is, and there was no better introduction to these examples of transcendence than Alien Lover.

Susan is a young woman whose parents have just died. She has spent the last several years in a mental hospital trying to recover from the trauma of this, and as the movie begins her uncle Mike and aunt Marian are preparing to take her into their home. Mike is hesitant as he's worried her mental health will once again slip, but Marian assures him he has nothing to worry about. Indeed, Susan seems very friendly, but as soon as she arrives she begins hearing a voice whispering her name. She becomes worried that she's hallucinating, but she finds a dusty old TV in her cousin Jude's workshop. Before long a figure appears on it, a handsome young man by the name of Marc. Marc explains to Susan that he is an alien who lives in the TV, and he wants to be her friend. At first, Susan believes this is Jude playing a prank on her--and admittedly, Jude is a little shit, which I'll get into later. Eventually Susan begins believing in Marc, and falls in love with him. But she tells her aunt and uncle about her meetings with him, and that's enough for Mike to want her recommitted. Not all is as it seems, though, as Jude warns Susan that he does know Marc: he was the source of the engineering brilliance that Jude to be a college freshman at 15, and the young prodigy believes he may be trying to break out of the TV to invade our world.

Alien Lover aired as an episode of The Wide World of Mystery, an anthology show dedicated to murder mysteries with occasional journeys into sci-fi and fantasy. They did another movie I want to see, The House and the Brain, which apparently features wizardry. Of all the episodes of Wide World, Alien Lover is the one people remember, and indeed as far as I know it's one of the few reasons the show is still on anyone's radar. Alien Lover went through sort of a Candle Cove phase where people remembered it as a big patch of traumatizing weirdness, almost too vague to be properly remembered but still full of nightmarish details. Now, I never saw this thing when it originally aired, so I don't have scars on my youth from it, but I can see how this could definitely scare kids. The idea of a monster living in one's TV--in a movie one is watching on a TV!--is pretty creepy to the adolescent mind. But Marc the alien is just the top layer of this movie's horror. This is a psychological thriller, pure and simple, and it focuses on nothing less than the topic of ableism.

Susan is trapped in a situation which a lot of mentally ill people will know. No one trusts her, because even though they don't know the circumstances of her illness, they automatically assume that she'll snap again, and violently, at that. It is the literal definition of prejudice--pre-judgment--that mentally ill folk face every time they "come out" to someone. That is one risk she faces. But there's also the possibility that Marc isn't real, and we only see him because of what she sees. Marc's reality is seemingly confirmed when Jude tells her that he's seen her too, but she raises the possibility that Jude is just gaslighting her--admittedly, the refusal to actually stick with this mystery is one of the film's weaknesses, as a scene taking place after Susan leaves shows that Jude is being honest.

But this movie is a genuine nightmare as far as its character dynamics. As I've said before and as I'll get to in a minute, Jude is a colossal asshole. However, there is a reason for this. In addition to having medieval notions of mental illness, Marian and Mike have their own unique personalities that make them really despicable. Marian is nice, yes, but she's too nice. She's nice in that White Grandma way, where she ends every observation with, "Don't you agree, so-and-so?", and you should agree, for after all, her belief is that it is friendlier to agree. And this sort of philosophy also informs one of the opinions that Mike posits: "Sometimes being kind is more important than being honest." Mike seems to believe this maxim, but he rarely acts on it, as he is basically never kind and basically always dishonest. Jude's bitterness towards Susan is contextualized in a dinner scene where we see that it is not only his precocious intelligence that's made him an arrogant little carp's cock, but also his rage at having passive-aggressive, lying, hypocritical parents. That detail, along with his eventual fate, redeem him somewhat.

I say "somewhat" because in a lot of ways, Jude treats Susan worse than his parents do. As soon as he shows up he starts calling her crazy, eventually reaching the point where he says, "What, do you think you deserve special treatment because you freaked out?" Um...in a way...SHE DOES, ASSHOLE. Generally, accommodating people who have had nervous breakdowns bad enough to require hospitalization is a good idea because it's kind, and it's kind because it prevents them from having a relapse. Now, that sounds like I'm taking the same side as Mike and Marian, but unlike them, I'm not treating Susan's relapse as anything but a bad thing for her. At no point does any other character consider what she must be emotionally going through. Yes, accommodations shouldn't allow people to abuse their loved ones, nor should mental illness ever be considered an excuse for abuse, but Susan only becomes potentially threatening to others after they threaten her. I mean, her parents fucking died. She's probably in a deep depression as a result of her experience--it's not rational to assume that her grief could have led her to want to hurt other people. And really, to return to Jude's statement, it's not even "special treatment" to treat people the way they ask to be treated, given that that's typically a good guideline for socializing with people who aren't mentally ill as well. Seriously, just be compassionate to people! And in sum, Jude...fuck you!!

Sorry. I...guess I got a little into that.



Alien Lover has a lot of flaws, even besides Jude. There are laughable scripting moments, like people being weirdly calm about the prospect of their houses being bugged with cameras by strangers. The opening of the movie features of the clunkiest exposition I've heard in a while, and the acting is definitely TV acting, and '70s TV acting at that. And I went in expecting something much more gruesome than I ended up getting, based on how disturbing people made this sound. But all the same, Alien Lover provoked some sort of reaction in me, evidently enough. That makes it a recommendation in my book. Hopefully sometime soon we'll get to return to the kingdom of television cinema to see what other awesome shit was made in the confining framework of the TV industry.

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Friday, May 5, 2017

I Am Here...Now (2009), by Neil Breen



I do appreciate, on some level, the modern culture of bad movies. It has its faults, and I'm sure I've ranted about them now and again--I don't like horror comedies that are "so-bad-it's-good" on purpose, and there are way too many of those being made these days. But I'm an optimist, and I think that some of these movies are genuinely worth it. I found Ghost Shark to actually be pretty tolerable, and The Room really is as fun as everyone says it is. But for some reason, the one everyone goes back to is Birdemic. I despise Birdemic, and I despise its director, James Nguyen. He is an egotistical, talentless, vapid excuse for a filmmaker and the laziness present in Birdemic and its sequel, to me, is as atrocious as After Last Season, which is a movie where people walk around in front of CGI shapes. So whenever news breaks of "the new Birdemic," I have the same feelings I'd have if Dr. Lecter told me what my mutton chop was. Neil Breen is said to be sort of like the new Tommy Wiseau, or the new James Nguyen, as demonstrated to the Internet by his film Double Down. After hearing about Double Down and its 2013 sibling Fateful Findings, I decided to start my look at him with one which I could go into blind. Reading the premise of I Am Here...Now was enough to convince me that I would have a winner.

I had no fucking idea.

Let me try this. And it must be a try: for Yoda's Maxim does not apply here. There is no "doing" in adequately describing I Am Here...Now, there is only trying. We open with a shot of twin moons in the sky. They explode, bringing us that excellent Times New Roman title card seen above. After this, we see a man known as The Being (Neil Breen), descend off the Cross. The Being is like Jesus, except his body is sometimes covered in circuit boards, and he sometimes changes into a gray-skinned ghoul-man while horror music plays. He is our hero, for he is the creature that created mankind. He is disappointed that his creation has fallen to a variety of sins, including allowing corruption in government and big business, and not embracing solar and wind power. "I am disappointed in your species--the human species!" he muses to a tarantula crawling next to a rose and a skull. The Being comes across a hillbilly couple in the desert who are drinking, smoking pot, and injecting heroin, all at the same time. The guy of this unfortunate pairing injects so hard that blood starts squirting out of his arm! The Being Schwarzaneggers the dude's clothes, and paralyzes the couple and turn them invisible: "Don't worry, it's only temporary!" he assures them. We then follow our second protagonist, who loses her job at an unspecified corporation doing unspecified environmental/alt-energy work due to unspecified "corruption." She considers becoming a stripper to support her baby, but her sister, who wears a torn-up shirt with no bra for no reason besides Neil Breen being creepy, encourages her to join a gang instead. That gang works as the enforcement for the very same pack of corrupt scumbags who are destroying the environment with their corruption! I could go on, but none of this real comes together. I believe it is what the French call a tranche de vie, or in some dialects, a tranche de merde.

This movie is more fascinating than good. As I get older, I begin to recognize that that which is fascinating is not necessarily good. The story of how the Opium Wars of the 19th Century somehow led to Christopher Lee acting in yellowface for Jess Franco over a hundred years later is fascinating, because it is not good. The story of how a self-professed ultra-fan of Alfred Hitchcock could release a Birds rip-off that was nothing but a colossal insult to Hitchcock is fascinating, but it is not good. There is too strong of a current of discomfort to I Am Here...Now for me to enjoy it unashamedly. Is it the wardrobe decisions Breen makes for his actresses, on top of the fact that he has a sex scene with them, which feature him wearing the ghoul mask? Is it the fact that all the direct points are vague to the point of meaninglessness, making every conversation stiff and uncanny? Is it the oddity of the film's writer and director playing the role of the creator of all humanity? Is it that Neil Breen's lanky physique is constantly draped in a torn brown t-shirt which is too small for him? I don't know, but all throughout this, there is just something fundamentally wrong.

I think it's gotta be that there truly is no meaning here. Breen desperately wants to be relevant to the issues of today, and I understand that they are hard to grapple with presentably and comprehensibly. But merely bringing them up and not making them tied thematically to the story is not going to look good. There is no stake for The Being's interest in humanity obtaining alternative energy, for example, aside from the fact that he is God and he believes alternative energy to be right. Most of us know the benefits solar and wind have over fossil fuels, so you could buy the intent that this as a mission of salvation, but it's where Breen tries to tackle "corruption" that he fails the hardest. This was a problem in Fateful Findings as well, and to be honest I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to explore "corruption" in Double Down too. Obviously businesses and government figures are corrupt. That, in 2017, should be readily apparent. But Breen doesn't name his targets, just vaguely evil populist fears. He expresses the anxieties of the times, but he does as someone who isn't affected by them. To be frank, he seems like sort of a dull person, but to see such a bland take on some of the most prevalent fears of the 21st Century is still of a little interest. Even if it makes the whole thing seem pointless.

Fortunately, I at least can take pointless now and again. This movie is fucking hilarious. I've named a lot of the best moments in the synopsis, but I haven't mentioned how often they reuse footage and, bizarrely, audio clips throughout this film. Whenever someone screams in pain, it is the same canned sound over and over again. We will also hear our third main character, an old man in a wheelchair, tell us "I only have...a month to live" at least three or four times, even when his mouth isn't moving. And yes, before you ask, one of the scenes that is looped more times than is necessary is a shot of someone vomiting. I don't have too many moments these days where I have laughed for longer than three minutes, but there were at least two scenes in this movie where I had to pause the movie and lie down, in case I passed out. One of these moments made me laugh for seven minutes. Chrysippus of Soli died of laughter after getting his pet donkey drunk and watching it try to eat figs. Also, the Funniest Joke in the World sketch on Monty Python actually did kill a guy. What I'm saying is, this movie almost killed me.

...sometimes, maybe that's what we need. I Am Here...Now has cleared the pipes. I am generally unrepentant in my appreciation of this movie, despite its many flaws. It will turn your afternoon into a week, I warn you. But if you can stand the pain, there's a lot here that's worth it.

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Book Club of Desolation #10: Operation H.A.T.E. (2012), by Richard Franklin



Well, this ought to be easy. I get to talk about Doctor Who again.

Welcome back to the Book Club of Desolation, as we continue to celebrate BOOKVEMBER! This week's book is Operation H.A.T.E., by actor Richard Franklin. Franklin famously played Captain Mike Yates of UNIT during the Third Doctor (Jon Pertwee)'s era of Doctor Who in the 1970s, and Operation H.A.T.E. is essentially "official" Mike Yates fanfiction. I put quotes around "official" because, like a lot of the productions put together by BBV, the creators of Cyberon, Operation H.A.T.E. does not operate with an official BBC license (or licence, I suppose I should say). The book began life in 2002 as an audio book put out by BBV as one of their more controversial releases, as written and narrated by Franklin. The original story, called The Killing Stone, seemingly has almost no differences from Operation H.A.T.E. aside from a stronger emphasis on the Doctor Who elements. While BBV had acquired the licenses to aliens like the Krynoids and Sontarans, and characters like Liz Shaw and the Rani, they got in trouble for The Killing Stone as there was no way the BBC would have given BBV the licenses for the Doctor and the Master even if they'd asked. When Richard Franklin chose to release the text of the novel, he of course had to change the names to avoid copyright issues.

So that's the backstory. Did I mention this review is gonna be a lot of dry trivia? I do love a good dry trivia session but I realize it's not great reading. I do have some complicated feelings about this book and so I'll try to focus on those rather than simply annotating Doctor Who continuity references.

With the flimsy excuse that I am not the first person on the Internet to do, I am going to have spoilers in my synopsis. There will be helpful [brackets] along the way to explain the codes Franklin uses. Our protagonist is Captain Martin Bigglesworth [Mike Yates], and he has been discharged in the wake of his betrayal of the Special Terrestrial Operations Project Intelligence Taskforce, or STOPIT [UNIT]. He has retreated from public life to find himself as a person [as Yates did in Planet of the Spiders], and we learn that his betrayal involved helping an ecoterrorist plot [just like in Invasion of the Dinosaurs]. He reminisces about his STOPIT family, including an exiled two-hearted Guardian of Time named Professor Cosmos, or The Brain [The Doctor]; gruff STOPIT alien-buster General Hycock-Bottomley, aka "The Bum" [Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart/The Brig]; thick but charming WO Bloggs/"Smudge" [Sgt. Benton]; and The Brain's traveling companions, Joley "Dizzy" Darling [Jo Grant] and Mary-Ann "Sniffles" Peabody [Sarah Jane Smith]. Captain M, as Martin is sometimes called--making him one letter away from being the Game Master--is encouraged to take a long stay in Morocco. Along the way the text sees fit to give us many details about Richard FranklImean Captain M's life, including his hunting achievements, acting achievements, and knowledge of British geography.

While in Morocco, Martin has various adventures but eventually comes across a sinister snake charmer. The charmer reminds him of STOPIT's old enemy, another renegade Time Guardian whom STOPIT dubbed Moriarty [The Master], due to his role as the evil counterpart to The Brain's Holmes. As it happens, the snake charmer is Moriarty, and he has a non-lethal cobra spit in Martin's eye. When he awakes doctors inform him he has a gallstone. The gallstone, when extracted, resembles the amphora-shaped jug that Moriarty kept his cobras in. Upon returning from space, The Brain discovers that this gallstone is actually the Amphora Calculosa, a component which will enhance Moriarty's signature death-by-shrinking weapon, the Matter Mangler Gun, or MMG [The Master's TCE]. In a confrontation at a department store (far from the worst of the book's questionable choices), Martin outwits Moriarty and risks death to stop him. The Bum reveals that STOPIT was testing Martin's cool as an independent agent since they were interested in taking him back into the fold, with a promotion, to boot.

With a few lapses, I tried to keep that synopsis as objective as possible. By itself, Operation H.A.T.E. doesn't sound too bad. In fact, it sounds like a fun, if average, Classic Who serial. To be honest, my original interest in the story was piqued by several fan-nonsense things present in the uncensored Killing Stone version. For one thing, I'm a big fan of the Master. This story opens partway through Planet of the Spiders and ends after that serial has concluded, when the Third Doctor has returned from space. Given that that trip to space was what killed him and caused him to regenerate, the original story starts in the hands of the Third Doctor and ends with the Tom Baker incarnation. The Master, meanwhile, is portrayed as the bearded incarnation of the Third Doctor's era, played by Roger Delgado. Because Delgado tragically died in a car crash before the end of Three's era, the only versions of the Master that Baker's Doctor fought were the disfigured version played by Peter Pratt and Geoffrey Beevers, and the again-bearded incarnation played by Anthony Ainley. I love every incarnation of the Master, but to see Delgado's take go up against the Fourth Doctor is a fantasy I share with a lot of Whovians. More relevantly to the book, however: I am also a fan of Mike Yates. While I love all of the UNIT family companions, Yates presented a lot of depth to the UNIT era, clearly having a vivid life outside of work, uncommonly for early Who, having a set character arc. I don't know if Mike would be in my Top Ten or even Top Fifteen list for favorite companions, but he was a nice character to see.

And this brings me to a pressing issue I have with Operation H.A.T.E.: there is a reason why, typically, actors do not write their own scripts. While certainly there are many actors who write and direct with as much skill as they show in acting, this is usually because their acting training has informed them that there are limits you have to impose on yourself when it comes to writing the characters whom you portray. Before I go further, I just want to say: Richard, I love your work. I am gladdened by the fact that you still love the character of Captain Yates, and you are an awesome actor--at some point I plan on buying the audio stories you with Tom Baker and AudioGo because they sound excellent. This is not an attack on you, and I will never oppose anyone publishing any book they want. If it's true that everyone has a story, by all means, tell it.

However, I can't read about the adventures of "Captain M" without the names Mary Sue and Miles Gloriosus coming to mind. Operation H.A.T.E. not only endows Yates/Bigglesworth with superhuman skills, cunning, wisdom, and handsomeness, but it does so while also shoving down the rest of the cast...and while continuously reminding us of just how amazing he is, and how stupid everyone else is. Now, I absolutely believe that this was done with the best intentions in mind, even though the ad blurbs for the book, and endless passages about Mike's backstory that suddenly become much more detailed than anything else, really do show us that Captain M is supposed to be Franklin with Yates' career (which complicates things when you wonder if some of the book's more damning offenses are meant to be products of Yates' perspective rather than Franklin's writing, and that the book's faults are done on purpose). I do have to wonder if any of Franklin's fellow Who actors have read his interpretations of their characters next to the Mighty Yates. To put it bluntly, everyone but Yates is an imbecile, reduced to their very base traits. Some characters end up getting fairer treatment than others, with there being at least one scene that only just exaggerates the spittle between the Brig and the Doctor, and where Benton gets one of those moments where he's genuinely clever, in his own way. Jo and Sarah Jane don't get that; Jo is a ditz in the show, but here it's basically her only trait. Sarah Jane cries, yes, but here...it's basically her only trait. Women are generally described only by their prettiness, and I think there are other female characters beside the pre-established ones ported over from Who, but they don't last, instead being present largely for Yates to ogle at.

As with himself and Yates, Franklin binds attributes of actors to their characters. It is briefly mentioned that Jo is "blind as a bat," and apparently Katy Manning, who played Jo, did require a lot of help on the set as a result of poor eyesight. Fair enough. But then we see that the last UNIT has heard of the Master was that he died in an accident with his traveling machine, in Turkey...the same fate as Roger Delgado. To throw the real-life death of an actor whom one co-starred with into such a farcical story alongside something like an inside-joke regarding an actress' bad eyes is more than a little tasteless. Unfortunately, the presence of the Master also exposes the story's issues with race. Franklin is someone who is probably not fond of "political correctness" but there does seem to be some implicit belief that the reader thinks Arabs are evil, or at the very least, weird and mysterious. The Master is disguised as an Arab when he poses as the snake charmer, but even afterwards there are references to the darkness of his skin, at one point even making the point of contrasting Mike's whiteness to him as a symbol of good versus evil. True, Roger Delgado was usually typecast as an evil person of color (usually Hispanic or Arabic), so presumably this is another inside-joke gone wrong, but there is a taste of imperialism here.

I won't comment on the quality of the prose itself, simply because writing is not Franklin's chief profession. Though he makes some shoutouts to Sherlock Holmes and the Bigglesworth books (as well as implying that Mike got a PPK from Q Branch), Franklin commits something I've seen in other inexperienced writers: the sentence structure, and word choice, to an extent, resemble something you'd see in a kid's book. It is passable, and I've been mean enough.

You'll note that I've been referring to the characters generally by their Doctor Who names; unfortunately I don't believe that this one really works as an original novel. It seems to have been intended to simply be a Who novel under code. I won't condemn that--I have some complicated views on fanfiction and copyright, which is another story for another day. But even if you can follow the background elements, referencing what are ultimately Doctor Who episodes, you're left with a book that exists in a world uncannily similar to Doctor Who, with characters resembling ones from Doctor Who, by an author who had a regular role in Doctor Who. And that's going to mean a certain degree of continuity lockout for the average reader, but let's be fair here. I don't know if I would've found this if I was not a fan of the show, and I think that's typical. This is a book for the most intense of Captain Yates fans.

Operation H.A.T.E. will never be one of the worst books I've read, but I can't say I was expecting the faults the book ultimately contained. It's a piece of Doctor Who obscura resurrected ten years after it's creation, for all the good and ill that that implies. There's certainly a fair share of fun moments...again, I won't pass up the fanwank fun of a Fourth Doctor/Delgado!Master meetup. But in the end, it is rather like your grandpa (a good and solid grandpa, not one who gets you Plug and Plays when you ask for XBox games) writing a sci-fi story for the very first time--clumsy and occasionally embarrassing.

---

Image Source: Timelash.com

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

TWO New Exciting Releases from Odd Tales of Wonder!!

ODD TALES OF WONDER #2 IS HERE!!!


Odd Tales of Wonder is another project I manage besides the A-List, and I've talked about Issue One on the site before. Issue Two is just as awesome, featuring stories about cannibals, spaceships, and pterodactyls! You really don't want to miss out. Get it in print and on Kindle, and receive three wonderful stories from returning contributors Jonathan Huisman, Rogaard Montieff, and Zachary Rouse, along with two excellent tales from newcomers Patrick Huisman and Katherine Avalon, plus a piece of my own. Check it out!

And that's not all. Odd Tales Productions is pleased to announce that we are performing an experiment in book publishing. Katherine Avalon's short story "Suicide Cult in the World of Cannibals" is featured in Odd Tales #2, but Avalon has also written a screenplay, entitled The Fires of '16: Reign of Emperor Tromble, which serves as the basis for our test. And it's a weird, weird book--to quote the Amazon description...

In this screenplay, Katherine Avalon combines the tastes and stylings of exploitation filmmaking with political parody to weave a story you won't forget...and will hopefully never have to experience! A good read for fans of the Bruno Matteis and John Waterses of this world. Billionaire Woodrew Tromble commences his quest to become the greatest man on Earth...and all humanity pays the price for his terrifying success. Avalon asks the question of how dictators are made while also probing deep into the psychedelic and sleazy underbelly of the human mind!


If you can read between the lines of the name Woodrew Tromble you will see the relevance this book carries today. Check it out HERE on Amazon in Print and on Kindle!

(Hey, you know what I just realized? Books and movies are expensive! But you can help me review stuff by buying stuff and funding my endless online purchases. And as always I do take requests. No shame here...)

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Terminator II (1989), by Bruno Mattei



Where would we be without Bruno?

I think I've talked before about how my life hasn't exactly been...normal, as far as movies go. I hate self-exceptionalism and all who believe in it, but ever since my aunt and uncle showed me I Eat Your Skin at the tender age of ten, I have had an issue with prioritizing "good" movies over trash flicks. Off the top of my head, some of the classic movies I have not seen are: The Godfather, The Shawshank Redemption, Saturday Night Fever, GoldenEye, Mean Girls, Breakfast at Tiffany's, American Psycho, Superman III, and last but not least, Aliens. It's worth pointing out that I have seen Terminator and Terminator 2. And now, I have also seen Terminator II. Except Terminator II is not Italian trashmaster Bruno Mattei's attempt at sequelizing James Cameron's robot-action tour-de-force, though Cameron is certainly present here. No, today it is Cameron's Aliens that falls under the auspices of Bruno Mattei and Claudio "Troll 2" Fragasso. At some point in my life, I know I will become a non-loser and watch Aliens, but because of my experiences today, I will have the inverse view of most folks: to me, Aliens will be the pale shadow of Terminator II, the one I saw first. And I think there's a little validity in my point. After all, James Cameron is no Mattei, nor is he any Fragasso--he is too anchored, too straightforward. Let's let the maestro work.

In the not-too-distant future, at a point where Venice has sunk into the sea, a group of Marines is sent into an underground tunnel network/genetics lab. They are joined by one of the mercenaries employed by the owner of the lab, the astonishingly-named Tubular Corporation. Shortly after learning that something with that name exists in this universe, we find out these Marines are called "Megaforce"! After many wonderful lines of dialogue, they learn that the lab was wiped out by a not-Xenomorph created by Tubular to spread some sort of genetic virus that rewrites an organism like computer code. This is also confusingly tied to pollution, a theme that also appears in Rats: Night of Terror ("You mangy beasts! That's how the water gets...POLLUTED!") and Zombi 3. Of course, the Tubular mercenary is revealed to secretly be an evil android, which I know happens in at least one of the Alien movies. And, naturally, once he is revealed to be an android, he starts doing an Ahnold impression, right down to ripping part of his face off a la the eye-removal scene in the first Terminator. There is a happy ending to this one, for both not-Ripley, and the obligatory child-played-by-a-30-year-old.

The typical Mattei/Fragasso nuttiness is all present here. Even outside of casting moms as ten-year-olds, and all of the flimsy rip-offs of other films, and the presumably-stolen soundtrack, there is wave after wave of beautiful scripting that ties it all together. "Alright, you bunch of pussies," says Koster, one of the three women in this film. "I'm back, and I'm kicking ass!" This is the first thing she ever says to us in the movie, so we don't know what she's "back" from. Terminator II's script also echoes Hell of the Living Dead with a scene where people are dying/screaming for help, and everyone around them just sits around and stares at them grimly as they die. In fact, it's even worse than when it happens in Hell, because at least in that movie, the bystanders at least seemed concerned for the people being horribly killed by monsters. I may have mentioned how Zombi 3 seems to be a "lazy" movie--people move, talk, and live slowly, and don't really seem to enjoy putting effort into doing things like "keeping themselves and their friends alive." Perhaps it shows that Bruno himself was slowing down as he aged. Who knows? Who cares? It's entertaining!

I considered writing a big long paragraph about how the second half of it is dull. Guess what, the second half of every Mattei film is dull. It is an unfortunate truth. This is one is duller than the others, probably because it's a pretty chromatically dark film. And because I'm not above cheap shots, I suppose I can say that you'll like this movie if you're a fan of Man of Steel. Zing-o!

As a side-note/conclusion: this is the second bootleg Alien sequel I've seen. I have also watched the obnoxiously boring Alien 2: On Earth, a movie that's apparently received some acclaim recently, enough for it to get a snazzy Blu-Ray release. My copy is a bootleg pulling together two separate bootlegs to ensure the entire thing is in English. I'll probably only be able to get an HD version of Terminator II when all our brains are resurrected in a supercomputer in the future. That's okay. I'll take slime over substance any day, when Bruno is at the helm.

Monday, July 25, 2016

Cyberon (2000), by Bill Baggs



Fandom is a tricky concept these days. You have people who come up with new terms for describing their appreciation of a work, like headcanon and OTP, and then you have the people who hate those term-makers but will flip out when PETER VENKMAN IS A GIRL suddenly. Fanfiction is hated, but it's been around for literal millennia, such as with the Arthurian "canon" that people laud tremendously. And while it's true that fanfiction can be embarrassing, and in some cases, harmful (Fifty Shades, anyone?), I'm always curious to see where the interactions between creator and audience lead our stories and our concepts of them. I could drone on and on about Wold Newton and why you should get Win Scott Eckert's Crossovers series, and how I want to see mainstream examinations of the literary potential behind fan theories, but I want to get straight to the point: today's movie, Cyberon, shows that sometimes you can get a good story off of wanting to be something you're not.

Cyberon was the creation of BBV, also known as Bill and Ben Video, a company dedicated to fulfilling the staff's unrelenting love of Doctor Who. Over the years BBV put together works featuring elements from the Doctor Who universe, like the Sontarans and Zygons, as well as pieces that were heavily based on Doctor Who but weren't quite Who. This included The Stranger, starring Colin Baker as The Stranger and Nicola Bryant as "Ms. Brown," in what started as clear copies of the Sixth Doctor and Peri Brown--this in turn was the spiritual to their audio series The Time Travelers, starring TV's Seventh Doctor Sylvester McCoy as "The Professor" and Ace's Sophie Aldred as...Ace. This one cut a bit too close for the BBC (especially since "Professor" was Ace's nickname for the Doctor), so it was rebranded as featuring "The Dominie" and "Alice." Like The Stranger, this eventually branched off to a point where it was clearly an original story. Though I don't want to go off on a tangent, I'm fascinated by how exactly BBV's use of Doctor Who elements was possible. Doctor Who isn't like most big-name sci-fi franchises: much of its individual parts are owned by their creators, rather than a central faceless entity craving only money (making Who like an inverse DC Comics, in a way). Therefore, use of the Krynoids, the Autons, the Rani, all that, was a matter of working with individuals for much lower licensing fees than what the BBC would offer. While they would never be able to tell stories about the Doctor, though companions Liz Shaw, Sarah Jane Smith, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, and Victoria Waterfield all made new appearances, played by their original actors, due to this unique situation.

Cyberon is pretty close to that second category of BBV productions, i.e. the not-quite Who stuff. Indeed, it's entirely absent of all canonical traces of Doctor Who, but if you know about the aliens from the show and you know that the title of the movie is also the name of the evil aliens the movie contains, then you should understand that the villains of this movie are going to be very familiar. Our hero is Dr. Lauren Anderson, a psychiatrist at a mental hospital of some kind. She meets Dr. Thomas Mortley, who is kind enough to let us know he will turn out to be morally bad by having the last name "Mortley." Lauren is frustrated with her inability to get results with patients whose afflictions are due to brain or spinal trauma, but Tom has discovered a new wonder-drug called Cyberon, which can cure literally any ailment. Cyberon is administered through a Star Trek-esque needle-less syringe, and Lauren has a good reason for her immediate distrust of it: it glows blue, and occasionally bizarre metallic faces can be seen reflected in it when it's in the syringe chamber. Of course, when these faces start appearing to the Cyberon patients, it's clear this miracle has a cost. And it's only going to get worse when those apparitions start killing the patients who resist the addictive qualities of the drug...

I think the thing that makes Cyberon so fascinating is its status as a sort of chimera--and I know just got myself in trouble for using that word. It really is a freak, a hybrid, and a beautiful one. (And if you got past "chimera," the Doctor Who fans present will hate me for saying "hybrid"...) It definitely tries to be its own movie, but it's still trapped in its presumed origin as a Doctor Who-linked Cyberman film. And even then, it has difficulty determining which type of movie its own movie is. These qualities work both against it and in its favor. First, let's talk about the Doctor Who elements. It turns out that the Cyberon drug somehow connects humans to another dimension where the Cyberon race lives. While they have some changes, saying that the Cyberons don't look almost identical to the Cybermen is like saying that Donald Trump is a good person--it's just wrong. The voices are the last tip-off. Whether the Cyberons are Cybermen or not, the premise behind them is kind of cool. Having them exist outside our dimension gives them a real menace, especially if you allow yourself to ignore that it's impossible to believe that the drug and these mysterious apparitions aren't related. In a way this story sort of precedes the New Who episode "Army of Ghosts," which also had Cybermen appear as specters before being revealed as other-dimensional and breaking through into our world to wreak havoc. I think, though, that episode ultimately did the premise better, because the insertion of the Cyberon drug into the story is pretty clunky. The drug has both physical and mental effects--healing all ailments while inducing a pleasurable psychedelic state--so it's unclear if the contact with the Cyberons is purely psychic or if the user's bodies are somehow integrated with their dimension as well. When he succumbs to addiction (because the drug apparently causes heroin-level cravings), Tom gains a metal hand, implying he's either becoming a Cyberon or the host of one. What's odd is that it seems unclear if Tom invented Cyberon by himself or if the Cyberons somehow gave him to the formula to it. There's a reason why the drug plot was inserted, though, and there's a reason why it's so clunky.

I do want to say that while I call this site my "A-List" because it is for reviews of movies that I consider to be "A-class." The creme de la creme, as it were. Cyberon is not A-class--it would probably be on my B-List at worst (with its fellow BBV movie Downtime), but it's more like to join its sibling The AirZone Solution on my C-List. By no means does that mean it's a bad movie--it's just not one of my classics. Cyberon shares many qualities with The AirZone Solution, honestly, though sadly this is a BBV production entirely without Doctor Who actors, whereas AirZone had four whole Doctors in it in its own way. No, AirZone and Cyberon both have a problem with their messages being all kinds of heavyhanded. AirZone's obsession was with pollution, which is a good thing to cover, but its subtlety leaned to the Birdemic side of things. Cyberon has two messages, one bigger than the other. The small one is about the horrors of modern technology. I was interested in this at first because Lauren is portrayed as being incredibly technophobic--she rages at a pub quiz video game and calls it rigged, and she criticizes electronic music for not being real sound, man. I thought this was going to be tied to the fact that the villains of the movie have a mechanical appearance, but the Cyberons don't really seem mechanical outside of having the word "cyber" in their name. So there's some wasted potential there.

The bigger message is that Drugs Are Bad. Really, extremely Bad. It's not made a secret that Cyberon sort of stands for medical marijuana--you have the well-intentioned hippie activist in the form of Tom, who believes his medicine will save the world but is nonetheless is addicted to it; and you have the level-headed, old-fashioned doctor in the form of Lauren, who believes that there is a way to get through medical tragedies but it can't involve shortcuts. In the end, it is Lauren who lives and Tom who perishes, and the film nearly ends on a shot of a "JUST SAY NO" poster or some equivalent. The AirZone Solution's heavy-handedness lives on as well in the fact that in the beginning we see that Tom has--choke--financial gain to be made from Cyberon, and he has a little bit of the Corporate Pig feel about him. Actually, if Cyberon is a movie about greedy people turning the helpless into Cybermen for fun and profit, AirZone Solution is a movie about greedy people turning the helpless into Sea Devils for fun and profit. Both movies even have ghosts in them...!

The A-List site will sometimes feature C-List material because the C sometimes stands for "curio." A lot of movies I like to make note of just because they are unique, even if they aren't really entertaining or worth watching. They are "hidden gems" as it were. And, despite the disappointments they bring, I've learned recently that I like learning firsthand about these freakish things. Cyberon is a fascinating example of when fan ambition is allowed to grow, but decides not to get far enough away to be its own thing. It happens to the best of us. There is nothing that is not derivative, and it's all about the sell. Cyberon was slow and repetitive enough to not quite sell me--but I'll keep it as a curiosity, and you should too. If you're a Doctor Who fan you can't've seen worse (read: Dimensions in Time), and if you're not that means there's no tiresome continuity here, so you can call it a beta for Sci-Fi Original Movies and get some joy out.