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Zero Hour! (1957, Hall Bartlett)
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: fighter pilot suffering PTSD boards an airplane in a last-ditch effort to salvage a bad relationship only for the plane to serve rotten fish, requiring this unstable pilot to fly the jet to safety. And there’s an exclamation point at the end of the title.
No, it’s not Airplane!, it’s that film’s (still) unofficial source material–Zero Hour!. The difference being Hour plays it straight, instead of making fun of playing it straight, but it’s all the same material; only, you’re watching it and not supposed to laugh at it.
And it’s a long eighty minutes, especially once Sterling Hayden shows up to start barking absolutely pointless exposition.
The movie begins with narration explaining just before the end of World War II, Canadian squadron leader Dana Andrews made a bad call and got most of his men killed. Or at least a large number of them. Hayden may or may not have been one of those men. The movie’s strangely opaque about it. When we leave 1945 for the future, Andrews is in bad shape. Fast forward ten years, and we find out he’s never made anything of himself, despite marrying Linda Darnell and having a kid (an abjectly annoying Ray Ferrell). Darnell’s fed up, and she’s leaving, so Andrews chases her to the airport and buys another seat to follow her.
There will be numerous moments throughout Hour when it seems like Darnell’s going to have something to do other than debase herself at the altar of machismo. She can’t respect Andrews because he won’t get over getting those guys killed and man up. The movie simultaneously tries to show the horrors of experiencing PTSD while also lambasting him for having it. When Andrews has to fly the jet, Darnell’s in the co-pilot’s chair, and it seems like there’s going to be the couple teaming up to solve their problem.
No, not at all. However, that sequence features Andrews’s best acting in the film, when he successfully intensely stares straight ahead in static panic. However, Andrews isn’t the worst performance. Thanks to Hour’s casting choices, the bloated screenplay, and director Bartlett’s failings… every performance in Hour is eventually bad except maybe Jerry Paris, who plays flight attendant Peggy King’s boyfriend. Sorry, misspoke—stewardess, and not just stewardess, but “Stewardess,” most of the characters refuse to acknowledge she may have a name. Paris is bland, but he’s consistent. For a while, it seems like King might turn in a good turn, but then no. She also can’t stop looking into the camera in the third act, which just makes the whole picture seem more embarrassing.
Geoffrey Toone plays the doctor, who luckily didn’t have the fish. He’s absolutely flat and delivers mouthfuls of exposition. Hour’s script is pretty sure all you have to do to convince people it’s legit is use enough jargon. But Toone’s not forceful enough. Hayden’s arguably worse—heck, he’s arguably the worst performance, and Hour also stars former pro-football star Elroy ‘Crazylegs’ Hirsch, and Hirsch is a very, very bad actor. But Hayden’s a phenomenon, chain-smoking, yelling at thin air, staring into space. It’s a masterclass in how not to do a solo performance.
Though he’s not solo, he’s got a bunch of yes-men around to look worried (and get coffee). Charles Quinlivan plays the main yes-man. And until the third act, Quinlivan seems like he will get through Hour unscathed. He does not, but he gives that impression the longest of anyone in the cast.
The special effects are ambitious—except the lousy stock footage (including when the Canadian jet becomes an American Airlines one). They’re not good, but they’re ambitious. The sets are either too big, or Bartlett doesn’t know how to shoot them.
Skip Zero Hour! and watch the remake.
This post is part of the 2nd Annual “Favorite Stars in B Movies” Blogathon hosted by Brian of Films From Beyond The Time Barrier.
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Rebecca (1940, Alfred Hitchcock)
Rebecca opens with protagonist Joan Fontaine narrating, establishing the present action as a flashback—which is kind of important considering how much danger Fontaine will be in throughout. She’s got to make it since there’s the narration. Some of that danger is in Fontaine’s head. Or, at least, she sometimes apprehensive of the wrong person. Sort of.
Rebecca is a passionate romance, a suspenseful thriller, and a reluctant character study. Fontaine’s nameless protagonist isn’t the one being studied, but rather her new husband, played by Laurence Olivier. Olivier’s a little older and a lot richer. He’s a relatively recent widower (Rebecca is the first wife), and he sweeps naive Fontaine off her feet.
The narration establishes the eventual setting—Olivier’s seaside estate—before heading to Fontaine and Olivier’s version of a meet-cute. They’re in Monte Carlo; she’s out sketching and comes across him on a cliff. She’s sure he’s going to jump. So, technically, maybe not a meet cute.
They soon meet again under formal circumstances. Fontaine is a paid companion to obnoxious rich lady Florence Bates. Bates knows Olivier socially, but he can’t stand her. However, once Bates gets a bug, Olivier and Fontaine become vacation buddies. Fontaine’s performance during these sequences is fantastic; the various emotions play out on her face as she observes Olivier, trying to figure out what’s happening.
What’s happening is a whirlwind romance; they leave Monte married. They’ll go on a honeymoon, which we see later on in home movies, but the action cuts from vacation to the estate. In the opening, director Hitchcock does what he can to make it not look too much like a miniature, but… it looks like a miniature. When Fontaine and Olivier arrive home, however, there’s this great composite shot of them driving up. The estate is a miniature, we won’t get any significant, closer exterior shots, but with that composite shot, Hitchcock makes sure the audience knows not to hold that kind of status against the film.
The film quickly introduces the new supporting cast—Judith Anderson as the imposing housekeeper who loved Rebecca, Reginald Denny as the estate manager, Gladys Cooper as Olivier’s sister, and Nigel Bruce as her comic relief husband. Olivier looses Fontaine to figure out how to run the house with Anderson’s help.
At this point, Olivier will orbit further and further away from Fontaine until they have their big second-act blowout. He’s busy being back but also actively neglecting to tell Fontaine anything about the house itself and how Rebecca liked it to be run. Much of the film during the second act is just Fontaine finding out more and more details Olivier really should’ve told her about. Why did he ever bring her there if Rebecca was so amazing? Since Olivier doesn’t confide in anyone, all the characters have a different impression of how Fontaine is supposed to function as the new lady of the estate. And since they all assume Olivier’s told Fontaine, no one gives her any context, with that lack knocking her between bewildered, overwhelmed, and frightened without any rest.
Hitchcock mounts whole set pieces just to showcase Fontaine’s discomfort and possible danger. There’s lots of beautiful work from Hitchcock, photographer George Barnes, and editor W. Donn Hayes. Fontaine acts the heck out of the scenes—and she’s the one who continues the character arc after the scenes forebodingly fade to black—but they’re technical marvels. Rebecca’s a great-looking (and sounding) film.
Just as Fontaine starts feeling like she should exert some agency, she tries to bond with Anderson over a favor—George Sanders, Rebecca’s favorite cousin, visits one day when OIivier’s out of town, and Fontaine promises to keep it a secret. Assuming she and Anderson share any kind of bond will be one of Fontaine’s worst mistakes.
Sanders is an abject delight. Rebecca’s got lots of great performances—while Fontaine gets a great showcase for the first three-quarters, Olivier then gets to play leading man for a bit and overshadows her—but Sanders is always a reliable scene stealer. He appears, takes over, then returns control on exit. It’s a fabulous balance. The three share a particularly great scene together.
The film has two major plot reveals to answer all the questions, tie up all the loose ends—one comes before the third act, one finishes off the film. In between those two reveals, Rebecca metamorphizes.
What follows is a very different film—still a romance and thriller, but with a different pace and narrative distance. Hitchcock changes things up for the finish, turning it into a race against time, then another, then another, all while bounding along the razor’s edge of melodrama. It’s a phenomenal success, delivering on many last-minute promises and giving the cast even further ranges to essay.
Hitchcock relies on a special effects set piece to close things out (did we forget there’s a narration safety net?), which has the added benefit of calling a draw on the performances. Fontaine has the most character development, while Olivier gets to do a great reveal and then excel further. Sanders and Anderson also have their singular qualities. Maybe it’s right no one can overshadow anyone else… they (and we) are all trapped in Rebeccas magnificent grasp.
This post is part of the Second Master Of Suspense Blogathon hosted by Maddy of Classic Film and TV Corner.
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The Odd Couple (1968, Gene Saks)
Even when The Odd Couple plods, it never feels stagey, which is impressive since it’s from a stage play (Neil Simon adapted his own play), it mostly takes place in the same location, and many of those sequences are just stars Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon following each other around and bickering. The one thing director Saks can do—the one thing he can reliably do—is not make the movie stagey.
Thank goodness.
While Saks doesn’t bring much to the film, his hands-off direction isn’t really a problem. Couple just doesn’t have a story. It’s got a setup—the film opens with a suicidal Lemmon roaming the streets of New York, trying to work up the courage to kill himself. He then ends up at poker bestie Matthau’s Friday night game, where all the fellows (Matthau, John Fielder, Herb Edelman, David Sheiner, Larry Haines) know Lemmon’s marriage has broken up, and he’s at least told the wife he’s going to kill himself. So it’s a lengthy first act, with lots of laughs (once we’re in the apartment, anyway).
Matthau offers to take Lemmon in, and we’ve got a movie. Matthau is a slob with a broken refrigerator and mold, while Lemmon is a neat freak who loves to cook. They’re perfect for one another. Then, they spend the movie getting on one another’s nerves.
Sort of.
Lemmon gets on Matthau’s nerves, and we hear in exposition about how Matthau gets on Lemmon’s nerves, but it’s not until Lemmon screws up Matthau’s double date night things start getting really bad. The film ostensibly takes place over three weeks, starting with the opening night, except all the days in the second and third acts are consecutive. And they’re not a week. Also there seem to be two Fridays very close to one another (the poker game is every Friday).
Since Lemmon’s the nuisance in the film, even with his top-billing, Matthau’s the star. They share the scenes together well, but Matthau’s the one who wants to meet girls (Monica Evans and Carole Shelley are two British divorcees who just happen to like much older American men), has work subplots, divorced dad subplots. Lemmon just cooks, cleans, and whines. His estranged wife and children don’t appear, though (especially given some details in the second act) they should; he doesn’t go to work (we don’t even find out his job until late second act). Lemmon’s just there to set up jokes and gags. At times, Matthau seems overwhelmed and frustrated to be the only one with anything to do—even when he’s processing his separation, Lemmon’s just got bits, no substance. Simon isn’t doing a character study or juxtaposition of divorced late-sixties men; he’s doing a situation comedy without many situations.
The acting’s all more than solid. Matthau’s got some great moments, Lemmon some good ones (then others where he hits the ceiling on how far Simon’s taking the character development), and the supporting cast is fun. Fiedler, in particular.
Technically, it’s also solid. Robert B. Hauser’s photography is competent without ever being particularly impressive—though Odd Couple’s got a wide Panavision aspect ratio so Saks can fit all the actors in a full shot, which should make it stagey, but, again, never does. Maybe it’s Hauser.
Great theme from Neal Hefti.
The Odd Couple’s funny, charming, and only terribly dated a couple times. It just doesn’t really go anywhere.
This post is part of the Mismatched Couples Blogathon hosted by Barry of Cinematic Catharsis and Gill of Realweegiemidget Reviews.
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Briefly, Movies (Winter 2024)
American Fiction (2023) D: Cord Jefferson. S: Jeffrey Wright, John Ortiz, Erika Alexander, Leslie Uggams, Sterling K. Brown, Issa Rae, Tracee Ellis Ross. Sublime deconstruction of the American academia novel, as through the eyes of exhausted ultra-brow author Wright, who realizes maybe he is willing to sell out to get rich. Especially since he’s back home visiting mom Uggams, sister Ross, and brother Brown. Great performances—Wright’s fantastic–with just the right amount of big twists and little. Stellar feature debut from Jefferson, who adapted Percival Everett’s novel ERASURE.
Argylle (2024) D: Matthew Vaughn. S: Bryce Dallas Howard, Sam Rockwell, Bryan Cranston, Catherine O’Hara, Henry Cavill, John Cena, Samuel L. Jackson. Spy novel writer Howard finds her fictional hero (Cavill) has an unlikely real-life counterpart (Rockwell). Numerous good moments, but it’s always a little too desperate and too cheap. Lots of the cast seems checked out, with Howard doing the lion’s share. Bad special effects don’t help either.
Bruce Springsteen – The Promise – The Making of Darkness on the Edge of Town (2010) D: Thom Zimny. S: Bruce Springsteen, Mike Appel, Roy Bittan, Clarence Clemons, Jimmy Iovine, Nils Lofgren, Patti Smith. Okay assembled footage doc with the E Street Band recounting the creation of the DARKNESS album. Zimmy’s way too lazy when it comes to structure, but there’s some great Springsteen interviewing. It just needs about ten more minutes to contextualize. Alas, no. But for some Boss process insights? All good.
Drag Me to Hell (2009) D: Sam Raimi. S: Alison Lohman, Justin Long, Lorna Raver, Dileep Rao, David Paymer, Adriana Barraza, Reggie Lee. Bank loan manager Lohman pisses off old lady Raver, who puts a curse on her just as she’s up for a promotion and meeting boyfriend Long’s parents for the first time. Even worse… the curse is real. Often great direction, but the script’s a passively misogynist mess, Lohman’s barely okay, Long’s bad, and the end stinks.
The Evil Dead (1981) D: Sam Raimi. S: Bruce Campbell, Ellen Sandweiss, Richard DeManincor, Betsy Baker, Theresa Tilly. Now classic low-budget young adults in a haunted cabin gore-feast is a great debut for director Raimi and leading man Campbell. Great, gruesome special effects, terrifying sequences, and untold buckets of blood abound. Excellent production values for the money, with outstanding photography from Tim Philo and a perfect score by Joseph LoDuca. Edited by Joel Coen! For DVD, Raimi reframed the 4:3 16mm to an HD aspect radio SPECIAL EDITION, which was anything but. The reframing killed the timing, atmosphere, and almost everything else. Blu-ray and UHD restored the original aspect ratio, thank goodness. Followed by EVIL DEAD II.
Evita (1996) D: Alan Parker. S: Madonna, Antonio Banderas, Jonathan Pryce, Jimmy Nail, Victoria Sus, Julian Littman, Olga Merediz. Adaptation of Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice musical about Argentine “Spirtual Leader” Eva Peron features an almost really good Banderas and a very blah Madonna. Director Parker does a bad job filming an otherwise handsome production. There are a handful of really good numbers, but Banderas can only compensate for so much.
Gimme Shelter (1970) D: David Maysles. S: Mick Jagger, Charlie Watts, Keith Richards, Mick Taylor. Singular documentary covering The Rolling Stones’s 1969 U.S. tour and the disaster of its last venue, the Altamont Free Concert. Phenomenal multi-layered document of tragedy, with artful control throughout. Absolutely devastating and, in hindsight, hopeless.
Knights of Badassdom (2013) D: Joe Lynch. S: Peter Dinklage, Summer Glau, Steve Zahn, Ryan Kwanten, Margarita Levieva, Jimmi Simpson, Brett Gipson. Nearly clever fantasy-horror-comedy about Live Action Role-Players (LARPers) unleashing a demon during a tournament. The acting’s never terrible just bland. Dinklage, Simpson, and Gipson are pretty good. The too bumpy third act does it in.
Moonage Daydream (2022) D: Brett Morgen. S: David Bowie. Way too long super-cut of extremely on television David Bowie with music video footage and interviews providing the career retrospective “narrative.” Bowie’s charisma carries the entire thing, though can’t stop the drag or the trite. The world’s best and worst greatest hits promo video.
Moulin Rouge! (2001) D: Baz Luhrmann. S: Nicole Kidman, Ewan McGregor, John Leguizamo, Jim Broadbent, Richard Roxburgh, Garry McDonald, Jacek Koman. Abjectly terrible tale of famous Paris nightspot and its star crossed denizens. Many levels of atrocious on display, whether it’s the writing (ha), choreography (bigger ha), or Kidman’s performance (biggest ha). Sadly, the joke’s on the viewer. Amusing–for a fraction of a second–to see McGregor act (in a bad part) while Kidman’s incapable of doing so.
Nanny (2022) D: Nikyatu Jusu. S: Anna Diop, Michelle Monaghan, Sinqua Walls, Morgan Spector, Rose Decker, Leslie Uggams, Olamide Candide Johnson. Real deal performance from Anna Diop as a nanny suffering shitty white people to the point it affects her mental health. Also, there’s maybe magic. Incredibly tense, nice support from everyone, great photography, real good direction. The second to third act transition is rocky, but the film comes through big.
One, Two, Three (1961) D: Billy Wilder. S: James Cagney, Liselotte Pulver, Horst Buchholz, Pamela Tiffin, Hanns Lothar, Arlene Francis, Leon Askin. Brisk but empty madcap comedy about Coca-Cola rep Cagney’s shockingly sexist (even for 1961) adventures in pre-Wall Berlin, trying to sell Coke to the Russians while cheating on wife Francis with secretary Pulver and keeping boss’s horny daughter Tiffin away from East Berliner Buchholz.Lots of wink-wink-nudge-nudge ex-Nazi jokes. Buccholz’s awful, Francis’s great; everyone else is in between.
Suitable Flesh (2023) D: Joe Lynch. S: Heather Graham, Judah Lewis, Bruce Davison, Johnathon Schaech, Barbara Crampton, Hunter Womack. Weird, icky homage to eighties Lovecraft adaptations with some creepy moments and wacky performances, particularly Graham and Lewis–with everyone having at least two great moments. Quirk overcomes the forecasted, predictable conclusion.
Summer of Soul (…Or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised) (2021) D: Questlove. S: Stevie Wonder, Nina Simone, B.B. King, Mahalia Jackson, Sly Stone. Consistently awesome documentary about the 1969 Harlem Cultural Festival (aka Black Woodstock). They filmed the whole thing and then couldn’t sell it. Fifty years later, SUMMER resurrects the memories. Some original footage was lost and it would’ve put things over the top. It could easily run twice as long without drag. So good.
Under Suspicion (1991) D: Simon Moore. S: Liam Neeson, Laura San Giacomo, Kenneth Cranham, Alphonsia Emmanuel, Maggie O’Neill, Stephen Moore, Malcolm Storry. Moody 1950s-set British thriller about man slut P.I. Neeson getting into trouble after rigging a divorce case and romancing client’s mistress San Giacomo. Director Moore’s script tries hard not to be predictable but eats its own tail. Neeson’s fine, San Giacomo’s not; Cranham’s good as Neeson’s sidekick.
Willy’s Wonderland (2021) D: Kevin Lewis. S: Nicolas Cage, Emily Tosta, Beth Grant, Ric Reitz, Chris Warner, Kai Kadlec, Caylee Cowan. Silent man with a muscle car Cage finds himself broken down in a tiny town, working off his repairs at a Chuckie Cheese-style joint. Only the animatronic animals are all killer monsters who eat people. Never quite good, never too bad; it tries and succeeds at being a gory lot.
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Briefly, Comics (Winter 2024)
Blankets (2003) OGN WA: Craig Thompson. Oddly callous memoir about creator Thompson growing up conservative Christian in rural Wisconsin in the eighties and nineties. The first half is rough but searching. The second half is more polished; usually for nothing. Thompson figures it out by the end, when it’s too late. More unfocused than bad.
Doctor Strange (1974) #14 [1976] W: Steve Englehart. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. The TOMB OF DRACULA crossover finishes up here, with Strange outwitting Drac to save Wong’s immortal soul. Most of it plays as a TOD issue, only with atrocious Englehart scripting. And despite great Colan and Palmer art… the action’s lousy.
Ginseng Roots (2019) #11 [2023] WA: Craig Thompson. The Brothers Thompson finish up their Chinese trip, with Craig showing a great deal of cultural sensitivity and enthusiasm. The boon is their third wheel–a “sister”/tour guide. Lush art; wonderful as usual.
Ginseng Roots (2019) #12 [2023] WA: Craig Thompson. Craig–GINSENG’s protagonist, not the creator–figures out if he’ll actually be able to turn all his ginseng research into a comic. Good thing since it’s the last issue. It’s a double-sized, glorious finale to the series.
Monkey Prince (2021) #4 [2022] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. MONKEY wraps its origin arc with a big, but not dangerous cliffhanger. Monkey and Shifu team up with Robin again, this time intentionally. They’ve got to save Monkey’s parents from the demonically possessed Penguin. Yang has fun with the teen superhero team-up. Good jokes and a great pairing of culture and canon.
Monkey Prince (2021) #5 [2022] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. New town, new school, new girl, new supervillain boss for the parents. The parents are fun and funny but also a tad psychopathic. They’re now bad parents, endangering Marcus. Though Marcus manages to get into danger on his own. Yang continues to impress, especially how he weaves in the DCU. Good, creepy action art. Who needs Batman when you’ve got MONKEY.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #38 [1975] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. More filler to delay the Dracula showdown with Doctor Sun. Unfortunately, it involves the return of Harold H. Harold, Wolfman’s most obnoxious creation (to date). Quincy and Co. team up with Sun; I’m sure they won’t regret that choice.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #39 [1975] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Doctor Sun’s master plan comes into focus, with the vampire hunters unwittingly (but predictably) playing into his plans, which–shocker–aren’t just about trying to kill Dracula. Colan seems to be doing a Will Eisner homage at times, which is something, at least.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #40 [1976] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Frank Giacoia, Gene Colan. Gorgeous art, thank goodness, to compensate for insipid dialogue and more plot churning from Wolfman as the army tries to take on Doctor Sun. Will Dracula have to get involved to save the day?
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #41 [1976] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Dracula’s back from the dead (again), because no one else can possibly stop the evil Doctor Sun (again). Dippy Wolfman script, great Colan and Palmer art. Sadly, Blade joins the gang just so they can be racist at him (again).
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #42 [1976] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. So much racism. So much. Blade’s just here as a target. Anyway–Wolfman wraps up the third(?) final showdown with Doctor Sun, in full tell don’t show mode. The obnoxious supporting cast doesn’t help anything either. Lackluster in the extremis.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #43 [1976] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Wolfman punts on Blade’s vengeance art (as always), leaving the previous cliffhanger unresolved. Instead, he does a done-in-one reset involving a reporter. The art’s nice and the characters are far less obnoxious than the regular cast.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #44 [1976] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Aside from the perplexing choice of Boston as the new setting, lousy supporting character moments, and over-baked dialogue, it’s not bad. There’s movement on Blade’s arc (finally) and great art on guest-star Doctor Strange. Plus deep cuts to Dracula’s Marvel origin. Crossover concludes in DR. STRANGE (1972) #14.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #45 [1976] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Blade and Hannibal King team up in a back door pilot and Wolfman does a full, immediate cop-out on the DR. STRANGE crossover death for Dracula. Instead, Dracula decides to start a cult. Weird, dumb, but gorgeous art.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #46 [1976] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Dracula gets married, which is boring. Blade hangs out with another racist, also boring. To stay engaged, Wolfman does a horror comic done in one about a toxic waste monster. Not good but different, with solid but not great art.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #47 [1976] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. It’s an all romance issue. Dracula and Domini talk past each other with agendas and love at first bite. Blade’s girlfriend distracts him from his life-long quest. Rachel’s sick of Frank. Harold comes back for some ungodly reason. Speaking of godly, Wolfman goes 100% Christian comic, with Jesus being a visually passive but ostensibly active participant. Blah.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #48 [1976] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Competently executed filler with a lead story about one of Dracula’s victims as she encounters him time and again throughout her life. Not great but gives Colan and Palmer variety.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #49 [1976] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Dracula’s trapped in a woman’s magical library where she hangs out with her favorites from classical literature, and he’s a mega prick about it. Good but not great Colan and Palmer art.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #50 [1976] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. It’s the battle no one needed–Silver Surfer versus Dracula! Thanks to the art, the comic works out, but Wolfman tries too hard writing the Surfer. He gets the protagonist spot, making Dracula a supporting player for an anniversary special. Also, the Christian stuff is overbearing.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #51 [1976] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. It’s a mostly action issue–Dracula’s fundraising for his cult, evil vampire Blade happens in, Drac’s racist as usual, they duke it out. Meanwhile, Frank successfully gaslights Rachel into admitting men are always right. Blah. Not even the art keeps it going.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #52 [1977] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. It’s Dracula vs. an unknown super-being who looks like Adam Warlock but isn’t a warlock because Wolfman’s doing a Christian comic. Colan’s the same but less. Colan’s real close to phoning it in level.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #53 [1977] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Blade and Hannibal King need to track down Deacon Frost for their vengeance arcs. Only problem is Blade’s dead. Good thing there are guest stars like Damian Hellstrom available. Real good art, slightly obnoxious King narration, but it’s solid action comics.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #54 [1977] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. The Son of Dracula is born, on Christmas Eve. Will Dracula keep wife Domini happy as his minions plot against him, in league with his nemeses? Of course. Gorgeous night-time wintery art–Colan’s seeming Eisner nods are back. Best “normal” issue in ages, which sadly means some racism towards Blade from his white pals.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #55 [1977] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan. An occasionally problematic, but incredibly ambitious TOMB, centering (eventually) around bride of Dracula, Domini. Colan and Palmer have a glorious issue. Wolfman does okay (it’s complicated) but there’s a lot of earnest to it. At times, so much things get silly.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #56 [1977] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Harold writes a novel about fighting Dracula. It’s terrible (one has to wonder if Wolfman was self-aware when mocking garishly purple prose). So is the comic any good? No. The art’s good. The story is surprisingly bland.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #57 [1977] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Wolfman tries another done-in-one-ish horror comic about a man who keeps getting reincarnated until he meets Dracula in present-day Boston. Lots of racism in the flashbacks (Wolfman frankly revels in it), while the regular subplots get pushed again further. Bah. But some good art.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #58 [1977] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Blade and an old friend team up to save the friend’s wife from an odd vampiric affliction. The story gets silly at times, but… at least no one’s racist in it towards Blade or his Black friends. In the story, anyway. Wolfman’s got to make sure Blade treats his girlfriend like garbage. Fine art, but the story’s more compelling for once.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #59 [1977] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Unsurprisingly, the fearless vampire hunters bungle ambushing Dracula as he celebrates the birth of his son. The regular cast doesn’t like the idea of using… guns with silver bullets to kill Dracula (it’s unsporting, but then there’s no comic if they ever succeed). Great art and a silly finish. Wolfman’s bad at Christian comics.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #60 [1977] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan. Phenomenal art–Dracula raging against a thunderstorm–would make the issue stand apart, but then there’s also all the weird and icky. First, it retcons last issue’s Christian comic cliffhanger. Then Dracula rants about being a rapist when he was alive. Wolfman’s idea of writing him sympathetic is something else. But, the art.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #61 [1977] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. After a distressing intro with the insipid vampire killers, the issue settles into the main event—Mrs. Dracula trying to resurrect Junior. Except if Junior comes back he’ll be a Heaven vampire, Dad’s mortal enemy. Wolfman’s overwriting passes obnoxious, but it’s weird enough to compel, with help from the gorgeous art.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #62 [1978] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. The issue starts soft, with Domini and Janus talking too much before Janus turns into a golden eagle (the Heavenly version of a vampire bat?). But then there’s a great, weird fight scene, followed by actual suspense. Wolfman overwrites it a tad, but the main story about a haunted house, is rock solid.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #63 [1978] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Drac, son Janus, Frank Drake, and guest star Topaz fight a demonic, telepathic worm monster in a haunted house. Lots of setup to fill pages before a strange time jump back to gladiator times. Lots of great art. And in the last few pages, Wolfman figures out how to make it compelling.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #64 [1978] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Dracula and Topaz go to Hell so Satan (not Mephisto) can babble incessantly about Dracula being so badass he most be destroyed. It’s another of Wolfman’s terrible Christian comics. Back on Earth, lots of (misogynistic) talk of the fearless vampire hunters. Not even the art can help this stinker. Okay cliffhanger. Maybe.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #65 [1978] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan. Human Dracula roams Boston by daylight, becoming a reluctant hero, while the fearless vampire hunters debate whether killing him in his resurrection is fair game. They decide human or not, he goes. Then there’s some cowboy vampire hunter. Is it lazy or just bad? Good art, though.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #66 [1978] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan. Dracula is in New York City, trying to find daughter Lilith to turn him back into a vampire. He meets a divorcée at a discotheque. His cowboy hitman pursues. Good art, if strange (cowboy vs. vampire in seventies New York. Wolfman overdoes the Christian stuff again and teases The Cowboy about his real name not being manly enough.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #67 [1978] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan. Still in New York, Dracula tracks down daughter Lilith, who takes advantage of his humanity to beat the everblooming shit out of him. Great art, a tad exploitative at times (cleavage angles are a big thing). Harold shows up and gets into a buddy cop movie with Drac. Bad Christian comics too! It’s packed.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #68 [1979] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Really good conclusion to the Dracula as human arc. Not without many faults, including the barely present Colan pencils. The art is good, but it’s very different than usual. The ending’s a talky disappointment but the ride there is phenomenal. Even with problems, the writing’s got momentum going for it.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #69 [1979] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. On the run from his old subordinates, Dracula—once again a vampire—finds himself protecting scared children. There’s a lot about crucifies too, which Wolfman manages not to bungle. It’s the first time he hasn’t screwed up the Christian stuff. Art’s good. Still that “New Colan” vibe. Maybe we won’t go back.
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #70 [1979] W: Marv Wolfman. A: Gene Colan, Tom Palmer. Big finale has some great art. Some. It’s also a whiff of a finish, with Wolfman going all in on a “Rachel’s a broken woman” bit. No special guest stars. No big payoff. Wolfman basically soft booted last issue and now we’re at the end. But some good—some great art. “New Colan” is mostly gone. Too bad about the script.