The Brain from Planet Arous (1957, Nathan Juran)

Given its micro-budget and absurdity, The Brain from Planet Arous is often surprisingly okay. Director Juran was so embarrassed he took his name off the final product (using his middle name, Hertz, as his surname on the credits), and the movie does get goofy, but its biggest problem isn’t the budget in the end.

Instead, it’s how Arous treats leading lady and de facto protagonist Joyce Meadows. She’s second-billed, but lead John Agar has been possessed by an evil space brain. For the vast majority of the… seventy-minute runtime, it’s not Agar bent on world domination and assaulting Meadows; it’s this evil super brain. Literal super brain. There are two of them, one bad, one good, and they’re usually physically immaterial but visible, something Agar never figures out when trying to fight the bad one initially. Concerning since he’s a nuclear physicist.

He and his sidekick, Robert Fuller, measure a way too much radiation out at “Mystery Mountain” (Ray Buffam’s script seems written for a “Scooby-Doo” in more ways than one) and go out to investigate. Before they go, they go over to Meadows’s house for some all-American grub. Hamburgers, French fries, and casual sexism. Though not as much as later when Meadows’s dad, Thomas Browne Henry, says he’s going to hide in his office, so he doesn’t have to help with the dishes and will only come out when she’s finished.

Henry is terrible, which ends up helping the film a little. The only time the space brains appear in shots with the actors is when the brains are possessing someone. Otherwise, they never share shots, so there’s a lot of Agar dramatically flailing around the frame all by himself. There’s only so much he can do, right? Like, come on. It’s called The Brain from Planet Arous, after all.

And when Agar’s possessed and planning world domination, he has moments of success. He’s able to get absurd enough to match the script. Rolling around by himself, there’s nothing to be done with it.

He also gets metallic mutant eyes, which are clearly painful to wear, and Agar’s wincing pain makes for a more effective moment.

After the opening, when Agar and Fuller go out and find the alien, most of the movie is set either in Agar’s lab or Meadows’s house. Specifically, her backyard because it seems like the lab is in a different part of that same house. The first scene makes it look like she’s coming in to get them for lunch, not getting in a car and driving over and bringing them back for lunch.

Later, her dog will run between the houses regularly, but Agar always drives back and forth. It’s a little weird, but I guess even Arous knew the idea of scientists Agar and Fuller living with his girlfriend Meadows and her dad Henry was too silly.

Meadows and Agar only get a couple scenes together before he becomes possessed by the evil brain, who taunts Agar about what they’re going to do to Meadows and how she brings out a certain malicious lust in the otherwise asexual brain. It’s a lot, and Meadows spends most of the movie terrified of Agar attacking her. She’s pretty damn good at it.

Of course, after Agar gets back and assaults her, dad Henry tells her to get over it; Meadows doesn’t get any support until the good alien space brain shows up and confirms Agar’s now dangerous to Henry. It’s obvious what kind of world Meadows is living in.

And, just when the film needs to acknowledge her ability to overcome that world’s hindrances… it makes a sexist joke about her. And she’s a silly, silly lady. It’s a mean ending for the character, a bad one for the film, a big diss to Meadows (who kept a straight face not just opposite translucent space brains but also Henry’s bad acting), and a crap end for the film overall.

Instead of having a resolution, the movie literally just has someone gaslight Meadows and make her the butt of a joke.

It’s a bummer since it didn’t have to end so badly. And it didn’t have anything to do with the budget, just bad writing. Arous just needed to take itself as seriously as its two leads did. Agar and, especially, Meadows get nothing for their efforts.

Grantchester (2014) s06e08

So, “Grantchester” has already been renewed for season seven, which might be the first time ever “Grantchester” hasn’t given the impression of being a bubble show. At the beginning, I think it was Robson Green who wasn’t sure about signing up for a new ongoing; then it would’ve been James Norton, but apparently, Green’s over it, and they got another season before this one premiered.

Because some big things go unresolved and unaddressed this episode. They make swings at moving certain story elements along, but then others they just pass ahead or just use to cliffhang. Big, ginned up cliffhanger this episode. The lackadaisical attitudes of the last few episodes all of a sudden make a lot more sense.

There is some capital-A acting from Green, who completes his arc with war “buddy” Shaun Dooley. Green drops all the truth bombs on Brittney—the unspoken things between Dooley and Green everyone has been asking about since Dooley’s first appearance—and the show finds an unexpected potential avenue amid the regular ones. Who knows if it’ll play any better, but it’s some character development, which isn’t there for pretty much anyone else.

Everything with Brittney is on hold; even when Kacey Ainsworth calls him on not actually being a good vicar to Green, it doesn’t lead to anything; it’s just Ainsworth moving some of the pieces into position for later. There’s a tiny bit with Brittney and new curate Ahmed Elhaj, but it’s mostly a retraction for Elhaj. Turns out he’s got to be more likable if they’re getting another series.

And then Al Weaver and Oliver Dimsdale can wait for then too.

The case involves a singer—Michelle Greenidge—with an abusive husband, Tristan Gemmill. It ends up being a far more compelling mystery than it seems, even if John Jackson’s script falls apart during the finish. It’s like Jackson had a good mystery but didn’t know how to write anything around it, not for the case or suspects, not for the regular cast members either. Maybe it’s a Rona episode. It’ll be too bad when things can’t get a rubber stamp for being Rona episodes.

There are good moments, particularly for Green, Brittney, Weaver, and Dooley, but it’s too rushed, even if they are getting another season. And they’re making broad strokes to cover all the unfinished threads.

Some absolutely fantastic little moments for Nick Brimble and Tessa Peake-Jones too.

It’s going to be a longer wait for next season than usual.

Grantchester (2014) s06e07

This season of “Grantchester” has been very much about helplessness and hopelessness. It’s even worse watching it from the present, knowing the U.K. didn’t “legalize” homosexuality until 1967 for consenting adults over age twenty-one. So the central conflict of this season cannot have a cheerful ending. But after this episode, a hopeful one seems possible.

After avoiding Al Weaver’s experiences in jail, this episode’s mostly about them. Even when it’s not about them—war pal Shaun Dooley proves a continued bad influence on Robson Green, including Green lying to wife Kacey Ainsworth about hanging out with him. She disapproves of the relationship, not Dooley. The jail plotline factors in. Green and Tom Brittney are investigating a case in jail, including inmates in solitary confinement, which pushes Green further into his bad memories of a Burmese prison camp.

Green working through his PTSD, specifically how he drinks to avoid working through it, has been one of the season’s other subplots. His alcoholism has again become a problem, one he won’t let anyone help with. Even with the hopeful, less helpless ending, it’s hard to imagine how they’re going to get Green to a good place in two episodes for the season finale. But “Grantchester”’s definitely doing a fine job with the character development arcs running underneath the weekly murder mysteries.

And after the last episode setting new curate Ahmed Elhaj up to be a shitty person, this episode turns him into the straight man for the jokes. Brittney’s trying to be nicer to him even though home doesn’t feel like home without Weaver. So there are some awkward, genial scenes for them. Then there’s also Emily Patrick—Brittney’s step-sister—crashing at the vicarage and doing whatever she can to make Elhaj feel awkward.

The Patrick subplot feels entirely shoehorned in and even then truncated like they cut some material from the subplot. At one point, Brittney’s saying she can’t move in. In the next, she’s already there.

The episode mystery’s particularly effective because it involves Weaver’s fellow inmates, most of whom are apparently just gay men being persecuted by the government, then tormented by guards and prison administrators. Hence why it all feels so hopeless.

There’s some excellent character development from Weaver, who’s superb. He doesn’t actually get a lot to do—the development’s presumably setup–but what he gets, he excels with. Excellent work from Green and Ainsworth too. The season’s plot threads are working out exquisitely. Save the Patrick subplot, but that one’s at least funny now and no longer cringe-inducing.

Daisy Coulam’s script and Jermain Julien’s direction are also outstanding. It’s a very strong episode.

Grantchester (2014) s06e06

This episode toggles between being a thankless bridging episode and a reminder late fifties England wasn’t just a hotbed of homophobia–there’s also a bunch of rampant, violent misogyny. Plus, old people are bigots. Plus, religious zealots are different kinds of bigots, even if they’re Black. Religion… an intersection of garbage. Though religious nonsense does often sound pretty when spoken aloud, which is what the episode ends up leveraging in the finale. But it’s mostly just a bridging episode.

Three significant issues get development.

First, “Grantchester” manages to find Tom Brittney a sexual liaison so tawdry and ill-advised, it’d make former vicar Sidney Chambers blush even though Sidney was a man-slut. It’s actually such an obvious big swing it’s shocking Robson Green didn’t respond to Brittney’s revelation with a, “wow, not even Sidney would’ve done that.” It’s a weird personality and character development bit for Brittney (seriously, they got rid of intrepid girl reporter Lauren Carse for this romance?). Though some of the illicit behavior is well-acted. Not enough but some.

Second, guest star Shaun Dooley is back to help Green realize being a shitty old white guy isn’t cool, actually. They don’t deal with any of the overarching copper versus crooked lawyer stuff, but they do introduce Dooley to Green’s wife, Kacey Ainsworth, and their oldest daughter, Skye Lucia Degruttola. Ainsworth and Degruttola love having someone around to tell them about Green’s war days because he’s still suffering too much from his untreated because it’d be unmanly PTSD. Whereas Dooley’s a sociopath and is okay talking about it. Poetic too. It’s kind of a good arc for Green, kind of not. He and Dooley don’t have any chemistry as pals, so even though the episode rushes Brittney and Green patching things up (they’re fighting about Brittney being a spoiled rich kid again), it’s welcome. Especially since Green’s pissed Ainsworth likes Dooley and is shitty to her.

Finally, the episode introduces Ahmed Elhaj as the new curate. He’s second-generation Black British, parents from Nigeria. He’s got to suffer Brittney being rude because Brittney didn’t want to hire anyone, and Elhaj was assigned. And then there’s Tessa Peake-Jones being racist. Elhaj’s super-sympathetic until we find out he’s a shifty bigot out to correct wayward, ungodly Brittney and company. The hard cliffhanger is the reveal of his villainy.

I haven’t even talked about the mystery plot, which is basically just fifties dudes being rapey, murdery, or otherwise just shitty. It’s indistinctly unpleasant and overly busy. Green also lets a murder accomplice get away, and it doesn’t even matter in the grand scheme, not with all those little schemes going on.

It’s not a terrible episode, just an inauspicious first outing from writer Tolula Dada.

The season was on a continued upswing, but this episode loses the plot. Or maybe “Grantchester” just isn’t “Grantchester” without Al Weaver.

Grantchester (2014) s06e05

Half this episode may be setting up for a regular villain—at least semi-regular villain—arc for the rest of the season. “Grantchester” doesn’t do Moriarties. Or, if they do, I’ve forgotten all of them. But the potential return nemesis isn’t important—not even to Robson Green, who has to sort of shrug it off—because it’s Al Weaver’s trial for gross indecency. The episode, written by show creator Daisy Coulam, with Jermain Julien directing, does a lovely job. It’s absolutely devastating stuff, but it’s also lovely to see how Weaver’s gotten to fully realize this character and his growth.

Especially since there are finally scenes for Tessa Peake-Jones to have the hard conversations she’s been avoiding for seasons on end. The episode starts with Kacey Ainsworth having organized several other progressive people (all women) to support Weaver. She’s trying to get Peake-Jones to come along but doesn’t have much success. Worse, Peake-Jones is against husband Nick Brimble standing up to testify for Weaver as a character witness. Brimble doesn’t get a lot of heavy lifting to do on “Grantchester” and doesn’t here either, but he does a splendid job with what he gets, and it carries through the entire episode. There are great arcs for everyone—except Green, who’s got a weird confidence in the legal system to be empathetic to gay people.

But it’s Weaver, Peake-Jones, and Tom Brittney’s episode. They’ve got to navigate through time period constraints and overcoming personal prejudices constraints and just plain shitty realities constraints. At moments it’s nearly aspirational. Weaver has some particularly accomplished scenes, though there’s the caveat the scenes witness him experiencing trauma. It’s all either heartbreaking or rending. And it’s done superbly well.

Julien goes all out on directing the mystery plot, which has Green and Brittney trying to figure out what’s up with a hinky bank robbery. The guy—Tyger Drew-Honey—seems off, so does the guy who gets robbed (Phill Langhorne). Thrown into the mix of the day is Green’s old Army chum Shaun Dooley showing up to represent someone at the station. Then shitbag copper Bradley Hall toggling from being gleeful at the idea of Weaver’s trial and desperately flirting with actual cool lady Melissa Johns. It’s not even a question of her doing better; it’s a question of her not dating pond scum. Fingers crossed it’s not a future subplot.

The mystery’s fine, but it’s busy work to distract—literally since Green has to do copper stuff and not go sit in support of Weaver—and then it’s all a setup for, presumably, a returning villain. At least it looks great, and Green’s arc is good. Brittney’s just along for the ride, though he does have the “eureka” moment to solve it all. Albeit thanks to Weaver.

It’s a great episode. Weaver’s season arc is anguishing stuff, and they handle it just right.

The Deadly Mantis (1957, Nathan Juran)

The best directed parts of The Deadly Mantis are when the film is propaganda for the military. Director Juran–and editor Chester W. Schaeffer–show more enthusiasm when putting together those brief expository segments than they do anywhere else in the film. Given it’s about a giant praying mantis thawed out from the Artic who eats people, one might think the enthusiasm belongs somewhere else. But, no. Air defense, Red Scare and maybe a little paleontological awe.

Juran certainly isn’t enthusiastic about his actors. Deadly Mantis’s stock footage gets better treatment than its actors. Lead Craig Stevens is pretty lame, so there’s nothing to be done with him. He spouts exposition or hears exposition or tells love interest Alix Talton to settle down and let the men handle things. It’s unfortunate, because Talton’s arc is then going from being self-sufficient and professionally respected to being an Air Force colonel’s squeeze. I suppose it’s affably handled. Steven’s isn’t offensively lame, he just can’t hack it.

William Hopper–as Talton’s friend and the super-cool scientist who figures things out but was also in the service so he’s not a nerd, you know (he doesn’t wear glasses)–is bored but he’s kind of great. Perpetually laid back. Like his paleontologist drinks some herbal tea and it chills him out. Or maybe it’s having spent his life named Nedrick. Regardless of Hopper’s acting motivation, Deadly Mantis is far more tolerable when he’s around. When it’s him and Talton bantering about science and government secrets? It’s probably at its best. Juran doesn’t direct the scenes well, but the museum set is one of the film’s more detailed.

The set design and the special effects are another problem. There’s no enthusiasm to the special effects. The sets at least have to match the stock footage and the set decorators Oliver Emert and Russell A. Gausman work at it. Deadly Mantis might be “stock footage theatre” but it’s well-integrated stock footage theatre. Except with the special effects. Mantis has lots of conceptual problems as a giant monster movie–like the giant monster doesn’t destroy anything and it attacks single people and there’s no eating people scenes. It’s a metaphor about trusting the military to protect us against the Russians first, giant monster movie second. It’s Juran’s fault. If he were doing better work, he’d pull up the rest of the production. None of its problems are insurmountable. Not even Berkeley’s script.

Solid black and white photography from Ellis W. Carter. It’s never breathtaking or even close to it, but it’s affable. It has more personality than the direction.

Really amusing supporting performances from Donald Randolph and Florenz Ames. And Pat Conway’s nice to have around, especially during Stevens’s expository scenes.

Maybe the nicest thing I can say–other than Talton and Hopper deserved a better film–is The Deadly Mantis never disappoints. It’s got a rocky, unpromising open and it never even implies it might significantly improve.

Office Space (1999, Mike Judge)

Office Space is the model of efficiency. Judge never races through things, he just tells them really fast or implies them. There’s the fantastic opening montage of everyone going to work, which ought to be a clue to who is and isn’t going to be important in the film, and then things just breeze along as he establishes the ground situation.

I’ve seen the film multiple times and never remembered Ron Livingston–the lead–has a girlfriend when it starts. I also didn’t realize the girlfriend (Alexandra Wentworth) never even speaks to him onscreen.

Judge clearly cut this thing a lot and the result is one of those outstanding examples of how post production can make something shine.

The film has the perfect comedy recipe–great cast, great lines, great plotting. The film only stumbles during the end of the second act, but Judge moves it along as fast as he can, almost like he knew he was in bumpy territory.

Livingston’s great in the lead, with excellent support from David Herman and Ajay Naidu as his sidekicks. Diedrich Bader’s hilarious. All the work boobs are great–the outtakes of Gary Cole, John C. McGinley and Paul Willson must be amazing.

Jennifer Aniston sadly gets nothing to do. She’s the likable love interest. She’s good at it but so what.

Obviously, Stephen Root runs off with the picture. Or, more appropriately, shuffles off with it. He’s got a really tough role and he nails it.

Judge cooks a great comedy.

Idiocracy (2006, Mike Judge)

Idiocracy has one fundamental flaw–and plenty of little ones, but the fundamental one is too glaring and too fixable–the two leads do not have a romance and the film pretends they do. Foul-mouthed prostitute Maya Rudolph all of a sudden starts talking without slang and doing sweet things. Then, at the end, there’s supposed to be some romantic connection between her and Luke Wilson, who spends the movie thinking she’s a painter (one who’s really scared of her art manager). The romantic element isn’t part of Idiocracy because it doesn’t fit with what Mike Judge is trying to do (which is to mix Sleeper with some Fight Club cynicism–with a handful of fart jokes) and so he avoids it. But in the end, when Rudolph is finally acting–Wilson acts the whole time–the mix needs to work and it doesn’t and Idiocracy goes out with a whimper. The ending is similar to a 1960s educational film reel about… moths or something. It doesn’t just stop, it crumbles away.

Wilson gives a really good comedic leading man performance in Idiocracy, except he comes off as way too smart for the guy who’s supposed to have a hundred IQ. He’s not one of Idiocracy‘s litany of problems. And the most apparent problem, the one starting from the first minute, is the narration. Idiocracy is fully narrated (lending to the educational film reel comparison) and that method, in addition to the ludicrous fade-outs, suggests there wasn’t enough story. Even if the narration and the fade-outs were in Judge’s first draft of the screenplay… there wouldn’t have been enough story in it either. Fully narrated films are either The Magnificent Ambersons or they are not. Idiocracy is not (also because the narration doesn’t make any sense… the narrator is talking to the audience in the present day, not the people who would be listening to it in the year 2700 or whatever).

Other significant problems are the special effects. Lots of futuristic movies are made cheaply and well. Idiocracy instead goes with video game level (and not state-of-the-art) CG and it looks silly. At first I thought Judge was doing a Planet of the Apes homage, which would have been funny, but he wasn’t.

Dax Shepard and Justin Long are both funny in the easiest roles in the history of cinema (idiots), but Terry Crews does a great job in the role of the best elected official (the President of America) since the Duke of New York.

The movie’s funny (I laughed every two minutes or so… good fart jokes, anti-corporate sentiment, and a general mockery of red state Americans)–and, compared to other current comedies, it’s still inexplicable why Fox hid the theatrical release–but as Judge’s follow-up to Office Space, an incredibly thoughtful, if flawed, film, it’s an abject failure.