Don't know what he's looking at...it's not the beach.

Last night, I watched one of the more depressing movies I’ve ever seen.  It was about this old guy who tells a story to a female resident of this nursing home.  He tells the story of a couple who had fallen in love, and there were some plot twists and things, and at the end…YOU REALIZE THAT THE MAN AND THE WOMAN WERE THE PEOPLE IN THE STORY BUT THEY JUST HAD ALZHEIMER’S.  Then they die, and there are swans flying as the credits roll.  The tears were just flying out of my eyes, it was terrible.

So anyways, I didn’t actually watch The Notebook, but my writing skills are just so good, that I totally had you going, didn’t I?  Hah!  The movie I actually watched last night was On the Beach, a 1959 film about the end of the civilized world.  It was directed by Stanley Kramer and starred Gregory Peck, Ava Gardner, Anthony Perkins, and Fred Astaire.  Being born in good ol’ 1985, I have no idea who any of those people are, but apparently they’re some big movie stars?

I’ve begun a trend of choosing movies that I have to defend as science fiction.  Mad Max, Night of the Creeps, and like half of the other films I’ve reviewed – none of them give outward signs of being anything close to science fiction.  I’m hard pressed to justify myself.  This week’s movie is no different.  It’s in black and white.  There are no dinosaurs.  There are no robots.  They don’t even go to space.  But it does have something I’m (apparently) quite fond of:  the apocalypse.  Yes, looking back, almost a full third of the films I’ve reviewed are about the end of the world somehow.  These kinds of movies don’t make interesting science fiction because of how humanity and the world die.  If anything, these are facts that are usually glossed over in the first few minutes of a film.  Unless it’s a disaster epic, where the end of everything we’ve ever known is mostly just spectacle.  No, most post-apocalyptic and apocalyptic films are interesting because of their portrayal of how people cope with the fact that life has gotten so hard, or changed to a point where it’s virtually unrecognizable to the audience.

How characters interact with each other and their own philosophical musings are at the heart of On the Beach.   The film takes place in Melbourne, Australia, with the nuclear fallout from the apocalyptic war creeping ever closer to wiping out the last few people on the face of the Earth.  We follow the lives of a few of the survivors: a couple with a newborn child, a submarine captain, and two drunks – a socialite and a scientist.  Presumably, these are the perfect characters for this sort of thing, because all people in the world can be put into one of those main groups.  I’m the submarine captain, if you’re wondering.  Which one would you be?

My Zeppelin is just out of frame

A lot of the themes the characters are dealing with are pretty heavy.  I mean, at the beginning of the film, it’s stated pretty explicitly that no one is going to survive the coming fallout.  The few glimmers of hope in the film are an automated radio signal coming from the coast of San Diego, and a farfetched idea that the colder weather at Point Barrow, Alaska might slow down the radiation enough to build a habitable life.  Naturally, anyone who knows anything about radiation knows that that’s highly unlikely.

And the radio signal turns out to be a bust too.

To be honest, this is a pretty depressing film.  Anthony Perkins has to deal with his wife’s denial of the coming events, eventually getting to the point where she is delusional about their chances of survival.  He also has to wrestle with the idea of feeding a suicide pill to his child to prevent the long, slow, painful radiation death that would take her otherwise.

Yeah.  Depressing.

Most of the film is dedicated to the relationship between the sub captain and a woman who, until now, has been a drunk, unable to cope with her coming doom.  Of course, drinking yourself into a stupor is a perfectly reasonable course of action given the circumstances.  If I wasn’t busy commanding a submarine zeppelin, I would probably do the same thing.  Gregory Peck is still tortured over the fact that his family was killed because they were living on the East Coast when the bombs hit, and this makes it hard for him to strike up a romance with another woman.  Of course, knowing that they only have five short months until the end of the world, is it really worth it to start something?  Does anything even matter?

Lets synchronize watches....now!

As a side note, and a way to keep myself from being depressed, I’ve just realized that Australia seems to be the place where most people assume the world is going to end last.  It’s where Max goes mad, the Earth goes Quiet (2 reviews from now), and people play on the beach, waiting for silent, deathly radiation to kill them.  Can someone tell me why Australia is so preoccupied with the end of the world?  Are you guys planning something?  It must be a thematic thing.  Australia must represent mankind’s eventual resting place.  DOOM, if you will.

The film is shot beautifully.  There are sweeping vistas of empty cities and ice flows, not to mention the incredible landscapes of beautiful Australia.  At times, the angles skew slightly to unnerve the viewers, usually when the characters are talking about a desired future, or making plans for the future.  It shows the futility of everything.  Some haunting dialogue accompanies these images…saying that the cities are deserted because “dogs go somewhere to be alone when they die, maybe people do the same?”

I mean, what else is there to say?  The film is fantastic.  It generates these terrible feelings of hopelessness and despair.  The only thing I wasn’t too sure about is the score.  There are points where the visuals are accompanied by a tense, almost grandiose score that seems to want to emphasize the fact that the world is dead.  This is just about the only misstep in the film.  Scenes like these need a mournful, or haunting score to accompany the depressing images.  It’s almost trying to scare you into thinking about the end of the world.  We really should be depressed by it, saddened by the passing of the human race, and the futility of life.

Other than that, the movie hits every emotional beat it aims for, and really depicts how depressing and sad the end of the world is eventually going to be.  I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to feel the cold, icy grasp of nihilism creeping into your heart.

Proving this movie is sad: do you want this to be the last thing you see?

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get back to my men on my Zeppelin, the Spirit of the Paleozoic.

Away!

I don't get it.

Dear Diary:

Today, I finally decided to write the next column that I have been putting off for a few weeks.  Why?  Well, diary, it’s because when you write the same format for every movie all the time, sometimes you get bored.  Formulaic, if you will.  So, you have to spend a few weeks fighting crime in Thailand or meditating in Australia to get your creativity back.  Then, you sometimes have to get your passport and identification stolen, get accused of being an international crime lord, and finally have one or two of the cocaine balloons you’re currently smuggling inside your body burst and have to go through a crazy intense detox.

Whew, diary, that was refreshing.  Somewhat cathartic, too.

So the movie I watched for the letter N (which is this week’s sponsor, by the way) was Night of the Creeps, made in 1986 by a dude named Fred Dekker.  Let me start by justifying this as a science fiction movie: it begins on an alien space station with ALIENS.  And it pays homage to the time honored sci-fi movie by legendary filmmaker Ed Wood: Plan 9 From Outer Space.  (My title does too, for those who are a little slow on the uptake)

The basic plot of the film somewhat resembles the plot of Plan 9, widely regarded as the worst movie that was ever made.  Essentially, aliens accidentally let one of their experiments escape their ship to Earth, where it turns out that this experiment is able to bring the dead back to life.  What the original purpose of this was, we can only guess.  Necrophilia, probably.  So, the small town, mostly the frat row, actually, has to deal with zombie-like creatures.  There’s also some kind of subplot in there about a guy being kept on ice cryogenically frozen for a while, and an axe murderer, but these are just the finer points of the greater plot.  Which is zombies.  Lots of zombies.

The characters in the film are fantastic.  They are basically the B-Movie archetypes that we’ve all come to know and love over the years.  We have the old sheriff who is haunted by his past (his girlfriend was murdered by the axe murderer his first day on the job), the two college students who started it all because they want to get into a frat to get with a girl, the douchey frat leader who is waaay too into himself, and the unattainable girl who somehow ends up with the protagonist at the end.  Each character plays their part perfectly, but I was particularly impressed with the sheriff.  He is maybe a rung or two below Bruce Campbell and Rowdy Roddy Piper in terms of badassery and smart remarks.  Awesome stuff.  There were times where his grizzled attitude and affinity for guns just blew me away.

See? Guns...also a Flamethrower.

There are even a couple of little touching moments in the film.  J.C., who is the crippled best friend of the main character, is eventually infected with the brain slugs that turn people into zombies.  Through the whole film, he’s had to walk around on crutches, but is always the light jokester.  He’s the lovable comic support.  When Chris finds his body with his brain and head burned in the boiler room (don’t ask), he plays a personal log-tape-type-thing with J.C.’s last words – “I can walk, Chris, I can walk.”  It’s really pretty touching for that B-Movie atmosphere, and there is a surprising amount of characterization.  It’s just a shame that he’s a zombie.  And had to light his own head on fire.

Another thing that’s really cool, and intentional, from what I gather, is that the parts of the film that take place in the 50’s are shot in black and white.  Besides the obvious reminder that the world didn’t grow color until the late 60’s, this was kind of a neat atmospheric trick.  Although, for some reason, the time aboard the alien ship that drops the experiment off on Earth is still in color.  Whatever, it was a cool creative choice.

For those of you who like that sort of thing: there are a lot of awesome practical gore effects.  Dead dogs, zombies, and exploding heads are just part of it.  There are a couple of scenes with a flamethrower that the local sheriff station for some reason has in their arsenal.

One thing that horror fans might notice is that this film is just chalk full of homages and nods to earlier films of the genre.  The university in the town is Corman University (named after legendary director Roger Corman).  There are no less than four different references to Plan 9, an obvious nod to the greatest and most terrible film of the genre, and the basis of the plot of the film.  And the best nod is that all the main characters are named after horror/sci-fi directors.  We have Chris Romero, James Carpenter Hooper (double bonus there), Cynthia Cronenberg, Detective Ray Cameron, Detective Landis, Sergeant Raimi, and Mr. Miner, the Janitor.  I’m too lazy to post the references, so I’m going to have my assistant do it.

Apparently, as the internet tells me, there were two different versions of this film released with a lot of changes in the ending.  The original theatrical and VHS ending had the two main characters watching the sorority house burn down, then a zombie dog wanders into frame and spits a zombie-brain slug at the camera.  CHILLS, EXCITEMENT, and SHOCK!!  Not exactly.  This ending would have been terrible, and if I saw that in the theatre, I would have been a little upset.  Or maybe I wouldn’t, seeing as it would be 1986, and I wouldn’t have any idea how to end a movie because I am one year old.  The good ending is more along the lines of what the director (who also did Monster Squad) wanted.  Det. Cameron, who is charred and zombified, and dead, walks away from the burning sorority house (I forgot to mention that there are scenes with BEWBS in them – a must for a B-Movie horror set in a sorority) and he falls to the ground where the brain worms crawl out of his head and towards…A CEMETERY!

Then we see the spaceship from the beginning hovering over the cemetery, returning to collect their experiment.  So we end on an awesome shot of a spaceship over a cemetery, where hundreds of zombies are now going to arise.

Awesome.

I can't find a picture of the graveyard...have this instead

As a general feeling, I enjoyed the film.  It was perfectly campy, it didn’t bog itself down with anything that was unnecessary, and it stuck to the classic feel of the terrible B-Movies it’s paying homage to.  The acting is decent, and the story is….um, ridiculous.  But that’s exactly what I wanted out of a movie called Night of the Creeps.  Is it perfect?  No, but I wouldn’t really want it to be.

Well, that’s all for now, diary.  Who knows when I’ll get to write in you next?

P.S. I think that hunky Brad is finally beginning to notice me!  Hopefully, he doesn’t think I’m too slutty.

Bad. Ass.

Thanks to all your love and support, my stalker has been put behind bars.  In an elaborate sting operation that involved me dressing as Dorothy from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and prancing around with a stuffed dog singing “Bad Romance” by Lady GaGa (yeah I didn’t understand that part either), the perpetrator was captured when he mistakenly fell into a hole covered in leaves.  Score one for the good guys.  Although, I guess they should change the title of the website to “One Film Geek.”

This week(end?) the movie on the chopping block is 1979’s Mad Max.  A staple of dystopian and post apocalyptic cinema, this movie hails from Australia and clocks in at ninety-five (95) minutes.  Although, really, since time and space are connected, we could measure this film in meters, light-minutes, or even parsecs.

The movie begins with a homicidal rampage.  The Nightrider (real name: Ambrose St. George Ulysses III*) cuts a swathe of destruction across the barren Australian landscape, running into buildings, cars, speeding, and yelling at the top of his lungs.  Naturally, the damn cops have to rain on his fun and chase after him, trying their damndest to suppress his god-given rights to maraud.  Max, who is not yet mad, is instrumental in driving him into an explosive tanker where he meets his fiery doom.

Of course, the ramifications of messing with mauraders were not yet fully known in the 1970s, and Max brings a whole gang of crazies down on him and his police precinct.  Included are such illustrious individuals as Toecutter (real name: Solomon Carter-Smythe, esq.*), Bubba Zanetti (real name: Sir Cornelius Kingsly*), and Johnny the Boy (real name: John Smith*).  After slaughtering Max’s family after he has quit the force, they move on to destroy more and more of the Australian countryside.  Max, who is now sufficiently mad, goes after the gang, and, one by one, kills or hideously maims them.

It’s definitely not my place to say whether Max was right or wrong in his termination of these helpless individuals.  So I’m just going to go ahead and leave moral judgment out of my analysis.

One of the obvious points I’ll need to address if I’m to retain any credit as a science fiction reviewer is that you could watch this movie and not have any clue that it takes place in the distant future.  Well, I suppose there is the obvious opening crawl that says IN THE NEAR FUTURE, but beyond that, if you didn’t know anything about Australia – and I know most of you don’t - you might just assume this is how the world works over there.  Well, this is not how the world works over there.  But what makes this a science fiction if it’s basically indistinguishable from a regular cop revenge film?

Gooday, Mate...hahahhahahahahaha

Let me tell you right now.  What qualifies this as science fiction is that it’s a dystopian society where almost all government and law has broken down.  There are no clues in this film as to when or why that might have happened, and there is almost no evidence of post apocalyptica anywhere in sight.  No giant craters, no mutants, no sand creatures.  The key is the word “dystopia” which is a vision of a futuristic society that is the opposite of a utopia.

Because of this I say that this film is science fiction.  It takes place in the future, in a society that we would not want to happen.  Well, most of us would not want to happen, anyway. I’m sure there are a few of you out there who would like to let your inner marauder out for a little while.

Now that I’ve spent hours and hours defending myself against imaginary accusations of choosing the wrong movie – let’s actually talk about the movie.  Or, I’ll talk, and you listen.

This was Mel Gibson’s breakout role.  He doesn’t do much acting in the film, aside from starting the trend in all of the movies he would go on to act in of being very, very angry.  In this, and in all of his movies, I think we can all agree that Mel Gibson is really good at acting mad.  Maybe because he really is mad?  Who knows?

This is some kinky sexplay

The story is pretty simple, but is kind of reminiscent of a Hollywood Western in which a sheriff’s family is murdered by someone who had previously been arrested, and the sheriff goes on a vengeance filled crusade stopping at nothing in his quest.  In this, the “Mad” in the title may also refer to a blood filled madness induced by seeing his family killed because of something he had done to better society.  In this, mad may mean crazy.  Clever little play on words there.

Where this film really shines is in the crazy ass action in the beginning and near the end.  This movie is filled to the brim with car chases and explosions.  The entire first ten minutes or so is consumed by an amazing car chase with three cop cars and the Nightrider’s black Pursuit Special.  There are crashes, flips, jumps, and explosions.  And that is only 80% of the chase scenes – the production ran out of money before they could do the last 20%.  So they got in as much as they could.

I mean, what more could you want?  Don’t be greedy.

It’s not really surprising that a lot of the film came about conceptually when the director who had worked as a medical doctor for a time in an emergency room.  He basically threw a lot of the deaths and injuries he had seen in real life into the movie.  A couple of the spills are shot in slow motion, which really make it kind of cringe-worthy.  There are some good prosthetic effects, although they are kind of glazed over quickly to avoid you staring at them for too long.

The Star of the picture, and his driver - William Wallace

I suppose if I’m going to do an analysis of this movie, I have to talk about the cars too.  They’re cool.  I don’t really know anything about cars at all, so this is kind of new territory for me.  They used…a Ford Falcon for Max’s starting police vehicle, and a “modified GT351 version of a 1973 Ford Falcon Hardtop.”  My god, I’m even boring myself with this part of the review.  But there it is. I expect a couple of you to make your own replicas and send them to me so I can parade about the Australian Outback in my own dystopian car.  For the record, they destroyed 14 vehicles for this film.

One of the most spectacular things about the movie is that it was shot on a budget of $350,000 and it pulled in $100 million worldwide.  For the longest time, this was a record investment-to-profit ratio, and was one of the most amazing success stories in cinema.  When watching it, there are literally hundreds of little cost-saving items that kept this movie’s production budget down, from vinyl costumes for everyone but Mel, to reusing the same vehicles painted differently in different scenes to guerilla shooting in certain scenes – this movie is proof that you can make a decent action film on a miniscule (relatively speaking) budget.

I liked it.  It wasn’t the most spectacular thing I’ve ever seen, nor is it in my favorites list, but every time I watch it, I find myself liking it more and more.  It’s obviously a staple of apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic storytelling, popularizing the notion of raiders and marauders in a society that has no rules or organization.  Everything from Escape from New York to Book of Eli makes use of the concepts introduced here.

It also ends as all movies should: with Mel Gibson walking away from an exploding car.  See you in the world of tomorrow.

*May not actually be their real names

Too Small, No Caption

So, last week, when I was leaving the FilmGeeks Offices – I could have sworn there was someone following me through the parking lot.  He/She was like 5’6” and kept making weird dinosaur noises.  That Jurassic Park article really put me on the map, and I think I may have a stalker.  If any of you are stalking me – please leave a comment at the bottom.  And I have pepper spray in my purse.

So, now that I’ve got that nonsense off my chest, I can tell you what I slaved over for the last few weeks.  Lost City, a (let me see if I’ve got this right) “Science Fiction adventure serial told in 12 amazing parts” from 1935 is my next gargantuan project on the chopping block.  And, man, this sucker looks like it’s going to take a few swings.  I also want to get in a little disclaimer: When I first heard the synopsis, I thought “Cool!  A lost city!”  What do I get?  The “city” is just  like four hallways and a supply closet.  Go figure.

For those of you under 60 years of age, a film serial was a series of 10-30 minute mini features (episodes) shown in theatres before feature films.  Imagine watching a movie, but instead of previews, you get a short segment of a 900 million hour long film that ends with a cliffhanger.  Because of said cliffhanger, you have to come back the next week to the same theatre to find out what happened to your intrepid heroes.  Of course, that episode ended the same way, and you would just FIND YOURSELF BACK IN THE THEATRE A WEEK LATER.  It was a vicious never-ending cycle of awesome ways to make money.

So now that you have a little background, I can tell you that this doesn’t bode well for someone who sits down and watches ALL 236 MINUTES OF IT for a review.  Do I want to review them episode by episode?  Do you all really care enough to read through a 12 part review of something that, quite frankly, just barely deserves more than a small blurb?  I still haven’t figured it out yet.

The story revolves around some strange atmospheric conditions affecting the world.  An engineer (and hunky man-meat) named Bruce Gordon builds a machine that pinpoints the disturbances to “The Center of Africa.”  And for those of you who are wondering, yes, this is a real place.  Bruce, a couple of skeezy investors, and his buddy, Jerry, travel to the disturbances and have to deal with everything from mad scientists to zombie natives to slave traders to giant spiders to hunchback servants to freeze guns to paralyze guns to pissy queens of the jungle who like to throw tea in people’s faces.

Worst scared face ever?

I want to tell you all right now.  This film is incredibly racist.  It’s from the mid-thirties, so you have to expect things like the blacks belonging to white people or how the captive scientist has invented a way to turn the natives white, or people saying things like “Hey, that sounds like a white woman in trouble!”

Beyond that, because of the unique nature of how the segments are set up, the story elements and character arcs are rather unorthodox.  Each episode is designed to end on a cliffhanger, and no story elements are actually introduced or taken care of.  People just seem to wander from place to place with no actual motivation other than “SHIT, someone’s been kidnapped, let’s go over there, DAMMIT, now we’ve been kidnapped, GAH, now someone else has been kidnapped.”

From what I can tell, only two characters truly have what you might call arcs, Butterfield – a dick who lives in the forest commanding a lot of the natives who have “gone native” – and Gorzo – the hunchback who starts as the sidekick to the evil dude, but inexplicably changes his ways in the second to last episode or so.  Butterfield is the only character who grows and learns from his mistakes – which all involve wanting to create a superhuman race of zombie giant black dudes to take over the world.  So, you know – he turned over a new leaf.

Bruce and his love interest, Natcha, have nothing in common, no chemistry, and they’re terrrrrrrrrrrible actors.  I mean, like, really, really bad.  At no part were they believable at all in the whole series.  In fact, all the acting was terrible.  The best actor was this guy in either the second to last, or the last episode who gets 1 – hit over the head, 2 – choked out, and 3 – hit over the head, then choked out.  SUPERB acting on his part.

Also, did I mention that Natcha is continuously screaming?  Through the whole 236 minutes.  She does nothing but scream.  Wait, that’s not true. She fights a tiger at one point.  Like, a real tiger. They put the stunt person in the same shot as a tiger, and then filmed it.  I was impressed, because there was some real danger there.  To the stuntman – at least.

SHIT IT'S A FUCKING TIGER

Speaking of the stuntmen – the fights in this film were GODAWFUL.  I mean, I know it was the 30s, but good lord, I’ve seen better stuff from earlier films.  A lot of that can be attributed to there being absolutely no musical accompaniment to any scene with any drama whatsoever.  As a result, the tension that is so carefully built up thrown together for the series is actually at a negative.

Ah, definitely one of the more enjoyable aspects of this series was finding things that George Lucas ripped off for Star Wars.  I mean, maybe not directly from this series, but in general, there is a lot of stuff that can be attributed to this type of filmmaking.  I expect to see a hell of a lot more when the Flash Gordon or Buck Rogers stuff rolls around.  There was also a little bit in there that would have inspired Indiana Jones.

I suppose, if I’m supposed to be looking for good things to comment on for this film – there is a lot some set design that’s pretty cool halfway decent not the worst thing in the world.  You kind of get the feeling that they wanted to show off that they had a bunch of cool-ish looking electrical apparatus that really worked.  Kind of like a science project.  Clearly that ate up all the budget and didn’t leave room for things like acting, sets, or writing.

But let’s take an objective look at this for a moment.  It’s 1935.  You have some big ideas, and you want to entertain people and you have a damnably small budget.  People want adventure and science and thrills.  So you whip up something that satisfies all of those needs.  Mind you, the craft was still in its early years, so you can’t judge something put together under these circumstances with the same gusto you might afford a bigger production like Bride of Frankenstein (which came out the same year).  This was the depression era of filmmaking.  As far as what the public was expecting, this might be exactly what people would have wanted.  Of course, being spoiled by today’s films and only being able to look back at the “classics” might also tinge how you view a series such as this.

Yes, Jerry (far right) has this stupid look on his face the whole series.

My overall estimation was that this is by no means a great piece of cinema.  It’s not even particularly fun to watch as a campy piece from the thirties.  It’s really bad.  But you can kind of admire it for what it was trying to do: entertain people.  That’s what it’s all about, folks.

I’ll rate it a 37 on my arbitrary scoring system I just made up.  It’ll definitely be a while ’till I do another serial.

God, even the poster for this turns me off

Woohoo I’m kind of back on a roll with the updates.  It was touch and go there for a while, but I think I’ve overcome my aversion to entertaining you and after weeks and weeks of therapy, I can go back to being funny on command for you.  Unfortunately, the movie I have to present to you today (tonight?  Who knows anymore) is neither entertaining, nor enjoyable.  I’ll do my best with the source material, but I’m pretty sure most of you will stop reading after this paragraph.

K-PAX, a 120 minute affront against the science fiction genre released in 2001, is a film about a man (Kevin Spacey) who goes by the name of Prot who believes that he’s an alien.  You know, from SPACE.  Jeff “Starman” Bridges, who is not an alien in this film, plays a psychiatrist or psychologist or something who has to deal with Prot and his incredible influence over the other inmates mental health patients.  Naturally, because of his advanced worldview, Prot is able to cure most of the other patients with his positive attitude and his dedication to an alien way of life.

Ugh.

Okay, I guess we have to look at this film objectively.  First.  The music is TERRIBLE.  While surfing the forums on IMDB, I found a couple of comments and threads on how people loved the music in this film.  They loved it.  It makes no sense.  The film has this shitty midi-synthesized sounding score that doesn’t really fit the mood or the attitude of any of the characters in it.  I guess they were going for an uplifting kind of thing, but in general, in science fiction, synth kind of reminds you of a darker feeling movie.  Not to mention the quality of the music is terrible.  It literally feels like someone composed it for a 8 bit video game.  EXCEPT 8 BIT VIDEO GAMES HAVE BETTER MUSIC.

Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system – Kevin Spacey.  He’s quite possibly one of my favorite actors.  Pretty much everything he’s ever been in, I’ve at least liked him.  But this film brings him down to the level of a mediocre performer.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s definitely the best part of the movie.  He’s quirky and pretty funny, and he even has a little bit of an otherworldly quality about him.  In short, he plays this role perfectly.  Even so, there’s only so much you can do with a script like this.  I will say that there were moments in the latter bit of the film where he is under hypnosis that his acting really shines through the script.  But overall, he was just kind of average.  It pains me to say it, but it’s true.

This is Kevin Spacy in a Train Station

Jeff Bridges is the other character – he plays the psychiatrist/psychologist (just what the hell is the difference between those two anyways?*) who Prot is referred to for therapy.  Now, I have no problem with Jeff, I actually like Jeff.  In this movie, I even kind of like him.  In fact, I’m going to end this paragraph here.

Okay, where this movie fails utterly is in the plotting.  It starts out innocently enough, with Prot arriving on Earth on a beam of light.  Then a bum acts like he’s just seen Jesus or The Prophet or Luke Skywalker return to Earth after two millennia.  It’s all downhill from there.  People don’t treat Prot as a crazy person.  It’s pretty much as simple as that.  Throughout the whole movie (aside from some of the hard, solid factual evidence to the contrary) people are constantly SAYING that they believe Prot is clearly mentally disturbed or imbalanced.  But they really don’t act like it at all.  They don’t once seem to entertain the notion that he’s crazy and may need medication.  I mean, when you look at it, they all act one way, then say something completely different.  It’s odd, and really hard to explain.  I would say go see it for yourselves, but I would not want to punish you like that.

There’s also a little subplot in the film about Prot’s family being murdered or something, but it only halfway pays off, and is barely worth mentioning.

Now.  My major gripe about this film: There is a question as to whether Prot is an alien or not, and this question persists through most of the film.  I don’t have a problem with this.  A lot of movies have this as one of their plot devices: is your main character really what he seems?  It’s kind of interesting in most movies to see where this plot goes.  Of course, as a science fiction film reviewer – this is the farthest possible from what I was feeling as I was watching the movie.  The film is billed as science fiction, and I expect science fiction, dammit.  What do I get at the end?  A lot of ridiculous sentimentalist nonsense with an unclear ending and a surrender to the greater mysteries of the universe.  I was pissed.

After the picture might be spoilers.  But can a movie like this really be spoiled?

I'm sorry I couldn't find a more interesting picture for you.

After a little research watching the movie, I’ve concluded that it was, indeed, a science fiction story because of a couple of factors.  Prot is an alien.  1. He takes an inhuman dose of thorazine (300mg) and is unresponsive.  2. When he leaves back for K-PAX, he takes someone with him.  3. He accurately describes orbital patterns of a star that haven’t been published or theorized yet.  Of course all this can be explained away with pseudoscience (he’s a savant, he…um…doesn’t react to drugs?).  No.  It can’t, which at least made me realize that I wasn’t wasting all of my time watching this film.  Now I know I don’t ever have to watch it again.

But Fil, what did you really think about this movie? I really didn’t like it.  It had some interesting ideas, and two excellent leads, but ultimately it doesn’t do anything with the story other than spout sentimentalist nonsense.  I think I’m just adverse to the story of a crazy man helping cure other crazy people through the power of love and self discovery.  It seems disingenuous and even kind of dangerous and childish.  If you want to see a movie that you don’t have to get invested in, but ultimately ends well and leaves you feeling warm and fuzzy, then I guess you should see this one.

I’ll leave you on an up note: if you watch this, you get to see Kevin Spacey eat a banana without peeling it first.  And that’s the highlight.

*Psychiatrists are medical doctors who go to medical school and can prescribe drugs, psychologists cannot.

YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES

Let me set the scene for you.  It’s 1993.  I (your humble writer) am eight years old.  Up to this point in my life, there has been nothing but monster trucks and dinosaurs.  Every book I own is somehow related to dinosaurs.  Posters, toys, t-shirts – I’ve got it all.  And I think I’m set for life.  Yeah, I wanna be a paleontologist.  I’ve got a plan that takes me all the way through my life, working with these amazing creatures.

Then I see a little movie called Jurassic Park and my life changes forever.  Paleontologists…they spend all their time in the desert, searching and digging and basically doing the most boring job on the planet (disclaimer: this is not the most boring job on the planet).  They speculate as to what these creatures might have done, all from looking at the remains.  Naturally, my eight-year-old self realized that this wasn’t how I wanted to spend my life.  Jurassic Park showed me that I could write obnoxious film review columns on movies with dinosaurs in them.

I’m going to stop everyone right here and say that if you haven’t seen this movie, you will probably get nothing out of this column.  I doubt I’ll give you a summary.  Instead, you should go buy 3 copies of the movie.  Right now.

Now that you know that this film motivated my love of movies, where do I even begin?  With the dinosaurs, obviously.  This film is pretty much hailed as the start of using realistic CG in a story.  Sure, before this, there were other movies that had used the technology, and some of it was even good.  But Jurassic Park set the standard for what computer generated imagery would look like for years to come.  You’ve all heard stories about how James Cameron had to wait to see Lord of the Rings to even contemplate Avatar?  That’s what Jurassic Park was to every big budget filmmaker in the business.  Kubrick watched it and called up Spielberg with A.I. Lucas realized he could begin work on his Star Wars prequels. **cough cough** terrible idea, George **cough cough** Peter Jackson went back to his fan fantasies of Lord of the Rings and King Kong.  And unless you’re blind, which I’ve actually been told 20% of my readership is, you can see how monumental Jurassic Park is.

King of the World

Obviously, it also inspired yours truly to set out and write an Impossible set of articles for you all to enjoy at my expense.  Bleeding fingers be damned!  The typing must go on!

This movie is a typical Spielberg film.  What do I mean by that?  It’s got plenty of action and thrills, spectacular visuals, and a fairly character driven plot.  It also has a happy ending, which is something that I normally really don’t like about Spielberg.

So, the dinosaurs.  Originally, the dinosaurs were going to be a very realistic type of go motion, designed and animated by Phil Tippett.  After Spielberg found that lacking, he gave ILM a crack at it – after all, their work on Terminator 2 was pretty good – why not?  By combining stop motion technology and writing some new software for computer modeling, they were able to create the realistic creatures you see on screen.  Even by today’s standards, this movie is fantastic, visually.  By my standards, this movie is pure gold.

A funny little story: the bit in the film where Grant says he’s out of a job and Malcolm says “Don’t you mean extinct?” was from a real life conversation Spielberg had with Phil Tippett regarding go-motion.

This is not CG. The people are though.

Why does it work so well where other movies fail so utterly and completely?  The simple answer is, “I have no idea.”  I’ve got some theories, though.  Mixing the CG with realistic looking Stan Winston-produced animatronics has to be a step in the right direction.  A lot of people apparently couldn’t tell the difference between the robot dinosaurs and the fake dinosaurs.  Judicious use of CG also must have helped.  The entire movie is supplemented by the CG rather than bathed in it.  Spielberg uses just enough that you want to see more, but you are definitely happy with what you’ve been given.  Any other ideas should be emailed to me so I can add them in to this column later and pass them off as my own.

I realize it might be taboo to bring in my knowledge of the book, but bear with me for the character analysis.  In the book, each character is a walking cardboard cutout.  They have no personalities.  In the movie, each of the characters has little eccentricities and quirks, likes and dislikes that make them realistic.  Malcolm, in particular, is great.  His feelings are clearly presented, and his personality and sense of humor often add to the situation.  Alan Grant’s initial dislike of children makes him an interesting character, and putting him with Lex and Tim for the majority of the story gives him time to grow and evolve (hah!) until he is obviously okay with the kids.

What do I think of the movie, overall?  I would think it’s obvious.  This is the movie that made me want to make movies.  I saw the potential in bringing whatever you want to life to fit a story, and I was hooked.  Sure, this might not be the most perfect movie ever made.  But this film is exemplary of what Spielberg is best at: spectacle and fun.  There may be a handful of movies out there that entertain as perfectly as this one.  Others might be more meaningful, some might make you laugh more, others may even be more visually interesting.  But this film takes every element and rolls it up into one perfect package.  You get a flavor of all aspects of film: romance, adventure, science fiction, comedy, and drama all in one.  What more can I say?  It’s magnificent.

...Should...have sent...a poet

Sooo…as for what all of you vultures really want to know: is it possible to do this in real life?  Is the science in this movie sound enough that in our lifetimes (2-5 months in most cases) we will be riding around on top of tyrannosauruses?

Step by step:

1. Find an insect with dinosaur blood in its abdomen.  Yes, this is theoretically possible, but in reality, not only would you have to have an insect from the right time period, but there would be no guarantee that it was dinosaur blood.

2. To extract the blood, you’d have to separate it from the insect’s blood, and then there’s the problem of having the DNA deteriorate over time.

3. Then all you need to do is put together the entire genome.  Essentially, this would be like putting together a billion piece jigsaw puzzle in the dark with every piece the exact same size and shape.

The Answer: FUCK YES IT’S POSSIBLE.  I’ll see you in the world of tomorrow my friends!

**rides off on the back of his triceratops**

The original title for this column was “In Which I Apologize for Publishing this Column Three Weeks After It Was Supposed to Go Live,” but I figured if I start apologizing now, it could start a dangerous trend in which you gradually come to expect more and more from me until the pressure makes my head explode.  In fact, I’m going to go on record and say that me not updating for almost three weeks was a purposeful act of defiance to keep you (the readers and my faithful mildly apathetic followers) in line and on your toes.  Yes.  An exercise of my own considerable power, if you will.  Turning your expectations to dust.  I spent the last three weeks (is it four weeks now?) laughing at your misfortune.

Please don’t quit reading now, my ego still needs to be fed.

This week’s two weeks Three weeks ago’s movie was The Incredible Shrinking Man, made in 1957, adapted from a novel written by science fiction juggernaut Richard Matheson.  It’s 81 minutes long.  Can anyone tell me what else is 81 minutes long?  That’s the amount of time I spend in the bathroom in front of the mirror psyching myself up to write this column.  Alternating yelling “WHO’S THE BEST?!” and “YOU’RE THE BEST!!”

It doesn’t work.

The movie begins with the main character, Scott Carey on vacation with his wife.  A strange mist radioactive cloud rolls in and bathes him in that rampant catastrophe-causing material that was all over the place in the 50’s.  Six months later, he recognizes his shirt is a little too big for him.  And that’s the end of the film.  Perfect twist ending, the audience gets a laugh, and you totally don’t see it coming, even though it gives it away in the title.

For those of you who are not so gullible (I know I lost like half my audience there…you guys are so dumb), this is obviously not the end of the film.  He continues to shrink, and has to deal with the psychological side effects that come with his strange condition.  The media hounds him, people make fun of him, and his relationship with his wife is incredibly strained.  Eventually he turns into a tiny jerk who has to live in a dollhouse, then a matchbox.  He gets smaller and smaller dealing with things like cats and giant spiders and floods.

I realize this is the second article in a row on shrinking people – so should I copy/paste all the info from the last article on visual effects and forced perspective and blah blah blah?  No, I don’t think anyone wants to hear that.  This movie pioneered a lot of the effects you see in Honey, I Shrunk the Kids.  Oversized props, recreated to look exactly like their smaller counterparts, look amazing.  I’ve always said that when I become an eccentric millionaire billionaire I would create a bunch of props to make me feel like I was a tiny person.  But to be honest, the best effects in the movie are the subtler aspects.  Since his shrinking is going so slow, simple things like the shirt being a couple of sizes too big or him having to adjust his belt, or noticing that he’s always been taller than someone he is now a couple inches shorter than.  Subtle uses that eventually build into the grand set pieces and forced perspective shots are incredibly effective.

Not a no. 2 pencil

So –  the writing.  I would like to tell you all now: I believe that Richard Matheson is a god.  Among the science fiction greats – this guy is probably in my top 3 writers.  To give you a sample of his work – What Dreams May Come, Somewhere in Time, I am Legend, The Box, and quite a few of the more famous Twilight Zone episodes – are all credits to his name.  The key to his writing is that he is able to create believable, conflicted characters with realistic dialogue and motivations,  more so than almost any other science fiction author. Matheson’s characters are people dealing with extraordinary situations.

Such is true with this film.  A huge focus for the majority of the first part of the film is Scott’s relationship with his wife.  Although it has almost nothing to do with his physical height, the fact that he’s going through such a tremendous change is reminiscent of a couple in which one person has a debilitating disease.  Scott is moody, irritable, and snappy.  We all know that’s no fun (amirite fellas?)  Obviously, this puts strain on their relationship.  Although she tries to be supportive, it’s just not easy.

Another huge weight on his tiny shoulders (see what I did there?) is the media and the common man’s reaction to it.  Unlike most “freakshow” movies of the time, the ramifications of his condition pry their way into his life.  He is hounded by reporters, made fun of by people he walks by on the street, and even feels like a freak when he goes to a carnival.  That’s right, folks, the CARNIES are more at ease in this movie than Scott is.  What kind of sick, twisted world is this?

Once he gets to a certain height, Scott is chased into the basement by their household cat.  At this point, his wife gives up looking for him because she thinks the cat has gotten him, and he is on his own.  There is a lingering hope that maybe she’ll come downstairs and he’ll be able to get her attention.   The fact that the film doesn’t resolve this plotline happily is something that sets it apart.  There is no part of this film that feels like Scott is getting it easy.  There is nothing cool or “hip” about shrinking in this film.  It’s strictly a negative effect.  It’s a fight for survival.

The last bit of the film deals with his being trapped in the basement and his fight for some old cake crumbs with a “giant” spider. Although the effects may not be the best, this is one of the most interesting conflicts in the film.  Scott struggles with nature for survival.

SHIIIIIIIIIIIIITTT

Now.  The absolute best thing about this film is the end.  Not because the movie is over (smartass).  But because in the last minute or so, this above average 1950’s science fiction gimmick film grows into a philosophical examination of the universe and life.

IF YOU CAN’T TAKE THE SPOILERS – GET THE HELL OUT RIGHT NOW.

The film ends with Scott shrinking down into a subatomic size, his hunger and fight for survival gone.  He grows beyond fear.  He has a sense of wonder at the universe, musing on how being small is a completely different world.  We’re left with a single shot of the grass outside his basement and his narration.  Originally, I put the entire quote in here – but I think it’s better that you see the film for yourself.  With a movie that acts like the typical 50′s sci-fi feature, the ending is a philosophical musing that really brings everything together.  We cover the meaning of life, the idea that there are other worlds beyond our own, and a circular view of life: that nothing ever ends.

It’s incredibly effective.  I really enjoyed it.

Does anything more really need to be said?  No.

But I’m going to say it anyways: Next week’s movie is Jurassic Park.  Now, I don’t want to get anyone’s expectations up, but it’s going to be the greatest review ever.  This website will become famous for my 28 part open discourse and examination of this film.  I also expect to be hired by any one of a million different newspapers after they see the brilliance.

New tradition: after every ten articles, I get a week off.  No arguments from the little people.  Or my superiors.  You can have my badge and my gun if you want, but I need some Fil time.  Interesting little tidbit too – this is the first in a two-part series on sci-fi movies that have to do with shrinking.  Excited?  No?  Fine, you can just get the hell out.  I don’t need riffraff like you reading my column.  I’m famous, dammit.

This week (possibly even last week) I watched Honey, I Shrunk the Kids…93 minutes and released in 1989.  For the record, my editor was five months old when this was released.  I was 4.  So anyways, the movie comes from Disney, which decided that it wanted a movie about shrinkage (haha).  Originally they bought the script which was called Teenie Weenies, which execs rightfully thought might sound too kidsy – so they changed it to The Big Backyard, which was a little better, but not by much.  Eventually someone decided that was lame too and the movie was renamed again.  I’d also like to say that Teenie Weenies as a title might have brought in business from people mistaking the title for something else.

The movie takes place entirely over the span of one weekend, and essentially focuses on the bungling Wayne Szalinski’s amazing shrinking device, which he cannot get to work properly.  Marital problems follow because he’s so involved in his work…that doesn’t work…and long story short, his two kids and the two kids from next door are involved in a terrible accident where they are blown up shrunk.  They are swept up into a garbage bag and placed on the other side of their monstrous lawn.  Quest: to get back to the house without being eaten, chopped up, or stepped on.

Overall, the acting is pretty good.  Rick Moranis (RIP from acting) is really entertaining and nails his role perfectly.  To this day, when I think of bumbling scientists, I think he’s the one that pops into my head the most.  Not only is he brilliant and forgetful, but he’s socially awkward as well.  One of the best lines in the movie is when he begins to explain shrinking to his meat-headed next door neighbor and begins, deadpan, with “This is a microscope,” as if no one who isn’t a scientist would know what a microscope is.  If you don’t find this as funny as I do, then clearly you have no sense of humor.

The kids even do a decent job.  Unfortunately, after this, none of them really went on to do anything.  None except, that is, Robert Oliveri, who went on to star in a couple more Honey movies as well as an appearance in Edward Scissorhands.  Anyways, the point is, each of the actors in the movie really hit their roles perfectly.  A mall obsessed teen; a socially awkward high school loner, a sports obsessed nut, and a wannabe inventor/scientist have the potential to make some really funny interactions.

"It's true! I chopped him up. But I didn't kill him!"

Good God, I’ve talked for far too long about the acting.  Of course, the real treat of this film is its focus on special effects, props, and scenery.  Since a lot of the film takes place in the overgrown backyard lawn, grass and flowers are like giant buildings.  A Lego block is the size of a house.  Naturally, the creatures in the yard are similarly gigantic.  Giant ants, bees, and a scorpion make appearances as well.  There’s a bit with a giant oatmeal cookie too.  While the size comparison sometimes doesn’t work (they’re supposed to be ¼ of an inch tall, yet they can ride comfortably on an ant) and a lot of the science is off (such as them referring to the ant as a “baby”), it makes for a really fun experience.  Even though everyone knows that being shrunk probably wouldn’t be fun at all.  It would be terrifying.

Another of my favorite parts of the movie, which for some reason has stuck with me since the first time I saw it, was the scene where Nick is in the bowl of Cheerios and Wayne is about to eat him.  The picture of this tiny voice yelling, “No, Dad, don’t eat meeeeeeee! Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhh,” is almost as iconic in my own mind as The Fly’s, “Help meeeeee,” in his cute little tiny voice.

Umm, is there really anything more to say about this film?  Yes, the score.  The score for this film is amazing.  James Horner does the soundtrack, and his throwback to Raymond Scott’s Powerhouse theme gives Szalinski’s machinery and wacky inventions an air of busy menace.  It also sort of brings up feelings of old school Warner Bros. Cartoons.  It’s perfect and one of those things that will probably stay with you as you walk away from this film.  That’s right, not only do I review movies, but music as well!  I’m a Renaissance Man.

I have to give a little background on my viewing experience with this movie.  As a kid, this was one of my favorites.  The science fiction aspect of it was awesome, the set pieces and giant creatures really pleased my little brain.  I really thought that giant props (the giant Lego, etc.) were the coolest thing I had ever seen.  I wanted to be shrunk down and have a super cool adventure where I could ride bugs and fight scorpions and swim in puddles.  The danger of such situations was lost in my 4 to7-year-old mind.

Somewhere in this bowl of Cheerios...there is a boy. A boy...who will be mistakenly eaten by his father.

Is it time for me to give you a little lecture on the science of this film?  I think it might be.

The entire premise of Szalinki’s shrinking machine is that there is space in atoms that can be utilized.  Between the protons and neutrons and electrons of atoms, there is a certain space that Szalinski says can be contracted to make better use of the amount of space people and matter take up.  From what I understand, this would require us to increase the density of whatever object we were trying to shrink.  And it would still be as heavy as it is in its normal state.  Which would be kind of cool.  But also very inconvenient.  There are, of course, some size inconsistencies as well, with how big certain things should be, and a question about why there might be a giant scorpion in the Szalinskis’ backyard…but who cares?  It’s fun.

In case you didn’t understand my views on this movie, I liked it.  There – I’ll even bold it so you don’t have to read the whole thing.  Why couldn’t I have put that at the beginning?  Because then you wouldn’t have read all my other nonsensical ramblings.  And if I’m to eventually turn you into a battle hardened army destined to take over the United States, then I need you reading EVERY. SINGLE. WORD. of my columns.

That about wraps this up for this week.  Next week is another article that has to do with shrinking…heh.

This week, we have dinosaurs

I’m in the double X’s now.  I’m cracking open a Mexican brew as we speak to celebrate.  Do you want me to make a “Most Interesting Man in the World” joke?  I find myself unmoved by such an obvious and datable pop culture reference.  And beer doesn’t have anything to do with this week’s movie.  Oh god, where did I go so horribly wrong?  The lack of effort put forth in making this article a reality is over(under?)whelming.  I don’t even seem to care anymore.  What does XX stand for, like 2,000 right?  God, I’ve been doing this forever.

In case you hadn’t figured it out, this week’s movie is the black and white film Gojira.  Or for you English speakers out there – Godzilla.  I watched this movie with subtitles rather than with dubbing because I didn’t want to force myself to reference the terrible and clichéd dubbing that happens with kaiju films.  That’s not to say that the subbing was the most amazing translation either, there were some problems there, as well.  But whatever, the bottom line is I watched the film as it originally came out in 1958 – while surfing Facebook and texting all my friends fly honeys.

I just want to stress: this is NOT the Roland Emmerich 1998 film starring Matthew Broderick.  If you’re expecting a review on that piece of crap, get the hell out of here and come back in like 4-5 years when I have time to review shit movies with mildly cool special effects.

Gojira has a simple plot: A prehistoric missing link between the fish of the Paleozoic and the land walkers of the Mesozoic eras is awoken from its slumber in the deepest parts of the Pacific Ocean by nuclear testing and grows to a size big enough to topple Tokyo.  Then it proceeds to topple Tokyo.  Naturally, the humans of the area try to fight back with tanks and guns and screaming and Oxygen Destroyers.  In all, the end result of the film is Gojira: 1 destroyed Tokyo, Tokyo: 1 dead Gojira.  That’s right – it’s a no win scenario for anyone.  Except we, the viewers!

As the first of the Japanese Kaiju films – Gojira is a landmark sci-fi in that it created an entire sub-genre by itself.  Giant Monsters, often serving human villains beating the crap out of the world/cities/each other are the focus, obviously.  AND WHAT AN AWESOME FOCUS IT IS.

The special effects are probably the second weakest part of the film.  Although not shabby by anyone’s standards – except maybe that hack George Lucas – the miniatures look like miniatures, and Gojira himself looks like a man stomping around miniatures dressed as a giant lizard thing.  Just because it doesn’t look real, doesn’t mean it doesn’t look good, though.  There are parts of the film where Gojira is downright scary.  The black and white composition of the film makes the blurring of real and miniatures all the more effective, and in the end, we kind of get more of a feel than anything else about how the effects are supposed to work.

Gojira hates your city.

Of course, the weakest parts of the film are the acting and about half of the pointless side stories.  I mean, I don’t speak Japanese (as I’ve mentioned in other articles) but I think I have an idea of how human emotions work and what someone’s face is supposed to look like when they are sad.  I just didn’t see it in a lot of the acting in this film.  The dialogue was so-so.  But Gojira’s roars…man, unforgettable and poignant.  I mean, you could really hear the anguish in this poor creature’s voice, the desperate cry for destruction understanding and compassion and love.

Okay, that might be fake, but later movies explore that a lot…so I don’t think I should discount it completely.

In Gojira, the monster is a force of nature.  We don’t get any notion whatsoever of him having feelings or remorse or even knowledge of what the hell kind of awesome destruction he is letting loose.  He’s a living representation of the Atomic Age.

Yeah, I’m going to get into some pretty heady stuff with comparisons and abstract thought, so my dumber readers might want to skip ahead and look at some of the pretty pictures I’ve posted on here before looking at my ultimate feelings on the film.

Gojira is a perfect analogue for the Atomic Bomb.  Coming from Japan, watching such widespread and massive destruction, essentially reliving Hiroshima all over again, it would be hard not to take this film as a direct reference.  It’d be like watching Cloverfield and pretending that it’s not about the 9-11 attacks on the World Trade Center.  (It’s not.)  Actually, I can’t think of a direct American counterpart to this film, so you’re just going to have to imagine how a radioactive monster that has misty radioactive breath and is impervious to harm might be a parallel to the atomic bomb.  If you’ve seen the film and can compare it to easily found clips of atomic detonation tests on the internet, you’ll see what I mean.  It’s obvious.

Now the score…this isn’t meant to bring up any recollection of any kind of bomb, that I know of.  The score to this film kicks so much ass.  How to explain it?  At the end of the film, when all the ridiculous destruction and death is just about over, and Japan is trying their last ditch effort to kill the monster, Tokyo and the rest of Japan is in flames – the film switches to a point where every one of the main characters is on a boat (mothafucka – look at me) getting ready to go into the deep with their Oxygen Destroyer.  Up till now, the score has been this awesome thundering brutish noise, perfect for Gojira.  However, we finally get underwater and see the monster in its natural habitat, and this perfect soft theme sets in.  It’s the only time in the film where we feel sad for the monster, where it’s humanized.

I could have put a picture of the actors...but this is better amirite?

It really pulls the whole film together.  Although it may be about the atomic bomb, the film takes a morose twist which is completely overdone in sequels, turning Gojira into a sympathetic character, a by-product of man’s nuclear powered enlightenment.  And you feel sad when they are forced to kill him.

I felt sad when they were forced to kill him.

It’s okay though.  There are literally 29 more films featuring our favorite giant dinosaur…and I’ll be reviewing them all.

One.

At.

a.

Time.

…

Ewwwwwwwwww

For those of you who are wondering, yes, I had to ask someone yahoo answers how to make the nineteen in Roman numerals.  What a stupid numbering system.  You’d probably have to do the same.  And if you don’t, then you should probably write a novel.  You’re too smart to be reading this column.

You should all really thank me – my original plan was to review Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, but I decided that it would be better to leave that to another time.  Or, it could possibly be that I didn’t mail my last Netflix movie back in time to receive it.  It’s kind of like a Schrodinger equation – there’s a fifty/fifty chance of either happening, but right now, they are both happening at the same time.

Good lord am I tired.  The FREEview this week (clever, I know) is on the 85 minute long 1986 film From Beyond.   All my coolest fans will recognize this as an adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft’s short story of the same name.  If any of you actually did recognize it – call me immediately, I need to marry you.

From Beyond centers on Dr. Crawford Tillinghast who is currently assisting Dr. Edward Pretorius in his experiments with resonance and the stimulation of the human pineal gland to expand the human sensory perception into territories heretofore undreamed of.  Naturally, as with all science experiments of this sort, the pursuit of knowledge does not come without a price, and Pretorius’ head is bitten off by an extra dimensional creature and Tillinghast is deemed insane. In an effort of disprove his insanity, Tillinghast and his new brain doctor McMichaels, along with Detective “Bubba” Brownlee go to the house to recreate the experiment to see if he actually is insane.  Aaaand you can kind of guess what happens from there.

Let me tell you what to go into this movie expecting.  Or rather, let me tell you what not to expect: great acting, an amazing script, an emotional roller coaster, state of the art visual effects, or not to be creeped out a little.  If you like B movies and gory/slimy special effects and a pretty cool idea, then this movie is definitely for you.

Let’s start with the basics.  The dialogue in this movie is awesomely cheesy and terrible.  It’s not quite Evil Dead cheesy, but it’s approaching that.  With movies of this type, it’s honestly kind of like you don’t even need a really poetic or powerful script.  All you need is to make sure that you don’t take yourself too seriously.  Poke a little fun at yourself, make sure your head doesn’t disappear too far up your ass – and you’re pretty good to go.

The Heroic Dr. Tillinghast.

Now, that’s not to say the plot isn’t amazing.  Because I didn’t say that.  You can’t say that I said that.  The plot, like anything Lovecraft writes, is pure gold.  It’s classic science fiction.  A scientist decides that he needs to learn more no matter the cost, and ends up dooming himself and his friends (most likely) while transforming himself into a monster.  For being based on a six page story, the plot really stretches pretty far.  Like 85 minutes far.

Now – the worst part of the film is the “acting.”  For those of you who are wondering, yes, those are definitely sarcastic quotation marks.  Aside from Jeffrey Combs, who, like Bruce Cambell, can do no wrong, the acting is kind of atrocious.  Especially the guy who plays Bubba…waaaay too much overacting.  Jeffrey Combs, on the other hand, is genius.  I really don’t know what it is about the A-list B movie actors that makes them so great that they can light up just about any movie – but it applies here.  Combs is sufficiently creepy as well as being frantic and damn near insane for most of the film.  He walks a fine line of “tense and uncomfortable” as a character.  It almost seems like he understands what it’s like to have you pineal gland grow out of your forehead and compel you to suck people’s brains out of their eye sockets.  Almost.

Which brings me to my next point.  The special effects in this movie are amazing.  Apparently there’s a subgroup of horror called body horror that has to do with the degeneration or destruction of the body.  Obvious examples of this are The Fly, District 9…you know what?  Pretty much anything by Cronenberg is classified as this kind of horror.  Anyways, that’s a lot of the shock value in this film.  And it works perfectly.  Watching the pineal gland grow out of someone’s forehead is disgusting enough…but when you see the entire left side of someone’s body melted together and his head elongated into a worm-like appendage…man it’s like your worst nightmares.

Worst. Nightmare.

But we soldier on, if not for the advancement of science, then for the acquisition of knowledge for ourselves.  Why not destroy the boundaries between realities and horribly mutilate yourself in the name of science and the advancement(?) of mankind?

Because it’s gross.  That’s why.

But let’s talk a little about Lovecraft, shall we?  Personally, this guy is the best horror writer of all time.  His work is full of atmosphere and tone – every word is designed to give you the chills, even though you have no idea why you’re getting them.  Forget everyone else, Lovecraft was the master of giving you the scariest ideas and making you feel those chills run down your spine.  His ideas are almost indefinable, his prose is hard to wade through, and his composition is amazing.

So why haven’t more of his stories been made into feature films?

The answer is simple: Lovecraft is about exploring the unknown regions of your mind.  He insinuates and skirts the boundaries of telling you the whole story, all the while teasing you with little bits of information that might drive you mad had you experienced them firsthand.  And the bottom line is that this does not translate well to the screen.  While the stories are amazing, when they are given form, they lose a little of their power over you.  If you tell someone that something is hiding under the bed – what’s in their mind is infinitely scarier than whatever clown dummy you may have hidden under there.

For this reason, Lovecraft has to be treated in one of two ways.  Either you have to make campy, almost ridiculous movies that celebrate the most inane of effects and moviemaking, or you have to be as atmospheric as possible, and do a film almost like 95% of the movie Jaws.  Unfortunately, most of the films fall in the former category.

Uhm, I realize that I haven’t addressed the science of this film at all.  It has machinery in it – there are scientists and other dimensions and stuff.  Good enough?

I think so.

Also, there’s a red Lamborghini parked in the red zone outside my work…it needs to be moved before it gets towed.

Oh wait, that’s mine.  See you suckers later.

**VROOOOOOOOOOMMMM**