The Stop Button

blogging by Andrew Wickliffe

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  • Briefly, Comics (11 May 2024)

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #311 [1984] W: Paul Levitz. A: Gene Colan, Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Thank Granny Goodness for this issue. It’s good. The first story has good art, good story. Brainiac Five finally fails to stop evil AI Computo from escaping. Giffen and Mahlstedt have never done better art. Then it’s Dawnstar and Wildfire’s tragic friends without benefits thing. With space Native American arranged marriage stuff and Colan pencils. Gorgeous but so yikes.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #312 [1984] W: Paul Levitz. A: Karl Kesel, Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Kesel’s inks are a let down from last issue but Giffen’s still going all out so it’s okay. Not always successful, but sometimes and significantly. The Legion help the Science Police with terrorist threats the Big Brother computer can’t predict. Lots of tension, lots of horny Legionnaires. And a surprise guest star who the artists are thrilled to draw.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #313 [1984] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. It’s an okay finish to the Science Police turncoat story. The art’s not the peak, but not bad. Fun to read. It’s basically a mystery issue; the Legion has to identify the traitor. There are a few subplot checkins, but nothing substantial besides Shrinking Violet kicking ass. Oh, turns out Science Police are bad fascists. Final issue before a series split.

    Legion of Super-Heroes Annual (1982) #3 [1984] W: Paul Levitz. A: Curt Swan, Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt, Romeo Tanghal. Swan and Tanghal do an awkward Silver Age-y take (only with eighties outfits), fitting the protracted story. Mordru is back–sort of–but the Legion isn’t prepared because it’s just an annual story. There’s some okay plotting throughout but it’s hard to take it too seriously with the art. Then there big twist finish is a complete whiff.

    Superman ’78: The Metal Curtain (2024) #1 W: Robert Venditti. A: Gavin Guidry. Venditti’s writing hasn’t improved since last series. Still using whole bits of dialogue from the movies, risibly juvenile when he’s not. Like a young readers adaptation. Guidry’s art is okay, though his attention to detail is off. Lois investigates crooked Army guys, selling arms, while the Soviets have kryptonite and an American conspirator. It’s eventually at least interesting.

    Superman ’78: The Metal Curtain (2024) #2 W: Robert Venditti. A: Gavin Guidry. Improvement over the first issue because Guidry does all right with the action. It’s too fast but also sublime in the pacing. And the story’s better. Superman brings Lois home to meet the parents (who live in Kandor), and is going to try to tell her the secret (again). Too bad Soviet Metallo attacks some American fighter jets.

    Superman ’78: The Metal Curtain (2024) #3 W: Robert Venditti. A: Gavin Guidry. It’d be nice if Venditti liked Christopher Reeve Superman. The character. He seems to loathe him. Or Guidry drew it wrong. The art’s all over the place but if it’s supposed to be Lee Marvin as Sam Lane, right on. There’s almost some nice Lois stuff (if just mooning girl stuff, it’s cute). It’s half over and nothing’s happened.

    Superman ’78: The Metal Curtain (2024) #4 W: Robert Venditti. A: Gavin Guidry. Based on Guidry’s Gene Hackman Lex Luthor, it’s clear he didn’t get it any more than Venditti. Such bad dialogue for Lex; so joyless. This book’s a bummer. Metallo invades the U.S. There’s a fight. While some of the fight composition is good, many times the details are too broad. It’s like no one involved saw the movies.

    Superman ’78: The Metal Curtain (2024) #5 W: Robert Venditti. A: Gavin Guidry. It’s so bad. Venditti’s Superman is a disaster. Both he and Guidry bungle Lex. Sam Lane flops. The issue is about the second act ending at Superman finding out he can’t beat Metallo. Thank goodness he believes everything will be okay for him. Venditti writes Christopher Reeve Superman as a dipshit narcissist. Joy. Thank goodness it’s almost over.

    Superman ’78: The Metal Curtain (2024) #6 W: Robert Venditti. A: Gavin Guidry. Well, then. Venditti finally figures out his hook and it has nothing to do with the comic. Or, really, the movies. It’s not as cynical as I’d been expecting (I thought Venditti would just cop out). But it’s trite and bad editing in addition to writing. Venditti once again fails to meet the SUPERMAN IV bar, much less III.

    Werewolf by Night (1972) #34 [1975] W: Doug Moench. A: Gil Kane, Tom Palmer. The art is not good but Moench’s haunted house story is solid. The heroes have to go to the house on haunted hill and find the secrets of resurrection for a rich old eccentric. Of course, the secrets will also save Buck. Decent couples interplay between Jack and Topaz, and lots of danger, tension, and streams of consciousness!

    Werewolf by Night (1972) #35 [1975] W: Doug Moench. A: Bernie Wrightson, Jim Starlin. Jack’s got to defeat the werewolf at the start, wrapping the cliffhanger. It doesn’t really figure in. Moench keeps going with old dark house tropes and they keep working out. There’re also some intense horror visuals. Everyone still feels in danger; Munch doesn’t let up on the tension. Not quite good, but the horror aspects almost gets it there.

    Werewolf by Night (1972) #36 [1976] W: Doug Moench. A: Don Perlin. The haunted house story doesn’t end here; one more to go. The story is so relentlessly tense, relief would be welcome. Instead, Moench just puts everyone in worse and worse danger, from the evil ghost and each other. The ghost possesses people and can cause visions. Half the comic’s about Jack losing it. Terrible art but big writing swing.

    Werewolf by Night (1972) #37 [1976] W: Doug Moench. A: Dan Adkins, Ed Hannigan. The issue ends setting up a new direction for the series, but doesn’t actually do anything in the story to prepare. Moench ingloriously shuffles out the supporting cast, who’ve just been through a hell house, with knowing to show for it. The final battle is okay. It’s overwrought but appropriate, given the stakes. Shame about the art, as ever.

    Werewolf by Night (1972) #38 [1976] W: Doug Moench. A: Don Perlin. So the bold new beginning for the series is a complete bait and switch. Moench didn’t even keep the supporting cast away. He makes a point to check on them. And he brings back an old, temporarily forgotten subplot (ex-werewolf Raymond Coker). There is one big change, however. The werewolf is a killer. Maybe for the first time.

  • Briefly, TV (4 May 2024)

    American Gothic (1995) s01e13 “Resurrector” [1996] D: Elodie Keene. S: Gary Cole, Lucas Black, Brenda Bakke, Sarah Paulson, Nick Searcy, Jake Weber, Tina Lifford. Guest star Greg Travis asks Cole to help turn his radio career into a television one. Except the TV folks don’t want Travis’s wife (Irene Ziegler), despite her doing all the work on their show. How ever can Travis free himself… Meanwhile, Black starts trouble trying to get Paulson’s spirit back. The continuity’s rocky, but acting solid. Especially Searcy.

    American Gothic (1995) s01e14 “Inhumanitas” [1996] D: Bruce Seth Green. S: Gary Cole, Lucas Black, Brenda Bakke, Sarah Paulson, Nick Searcy, Pat Hingle, Tim Grimm. Strong episode about Paulson finally attacking Cole head on. Cole’s improper relationship with town pastor Hingle figures in, as does (to a lesser extent) Cole’s attempt to corrupt local attorney Grimm. Black’s around (and is excellent as ever) but he’s somewhat superfluous except as the de facto pawn in Paulson and Cole’s supernatural battle. Lots of retconning and reveals.

    Beacon 23 (2023) s01e01 “Corbenic” D: Daniel Percival. S: Lena Headey, Stephan James, Natasha Mumba, Stephen Root, Wade Bogert O’Brien. Mining-based future sci-fi derivative with mineralogist with a secret Headey crash landing on space lighthouse keeper with a secret James’s lighthouse. There’s a nice bracketing technique to gin up suspense and Headey’s a strong lead in a middling effort. James might not be up to the task. Decent production values also help.

    Beacon 23 (2023) s01e02 “Wreckers” D: Daniel Percival. S: Lena Headey, Stephan James, Natasha Mumba, Wade Bogert O’Brien, Paulino Nunes, Marnie McPhail, Jaeden Noel. Better than last episode even with some thin guest star performances. Headey is really good in a lead part (even this one), as it turns out she’s got some big secrets. No time to reveal them though, because she and James have to team up to fend off space pirates. Or are they? James is better, which also helps.

    Beacon 23 (2023) s01e03 “Why Can’t We Go On as Three?” D: Daniel Percival. S: Lena Headey, Stephan James, Natasha Mumba, Wade Bogert O’Brien, Sandrine Holt. Somehow, Holt arrives from a spaceship to have a fight scene with James. The fight’s the only action, with the rest a maudlin play about Holt, James, and Headey. Holt forces them into a love triangle, except it’s also a big secret reveal episode, so things go sideways. Headey’s great. The episode’s often thin, but she’s so good.

    Beacon 23 (2023) s01e04 “God in the Machine” D: Erskine Forde. S: Wade Bogert O’Brien, Barbara Hershey, Eric Lange. Flashback episode reveals the show’s space magic context we’ve been missing. Also, repairman-with-a-secret Lange arrives on the beacon (a hundred years before the series’s time). Can station keeper Hershey figure out his agenda while having a weird Motherboy relationship with AI O’Brien? O’Brien’s more obnoxious than usual, and Lange’s thin. Hershey tries her best.

    Beacon 23 (2023) s01e05 “Rocky” D: Oz Scott. S: Stephan James, Lena Headey, Natasha Mumba, Bo Martynowska, Stephen Root, Wade Bogert O’Brien. There’s another ship on its way carrying danger for James and Headey. While they wait, we get the story of James vs. Root for control of the beacon. Lots of narrative devices–flashback, video playback, hallucinations, dream sequences. Then there’s a big leap for the cliffhanger. Can it land? Who knows. James’s best episode and Headey’s great too.

    Beacon 23 (2023) s01e06 “Beacon Twenty Three” D: Oz Scott. S: Wade Bogert O’Brien, Carolina Bartczak, Marc Menchaca, A.J. Simmons, Sydney Ozerov-Meyer, Matilda Legault. It’s another flashback episode. Beacon AI Bogert-O’Brien recounts the story of the magic rocks to space terrorist Menchaca. Bogert-O’Brien’s the least annoying he’s been to date, and eventually nearly good. Bartczak’s solid as the first beacon-keeper. Simmons and Ozerov-Meyer less so as later ones. Nicely directed, compelling. The show’s hit a stride. Maybe.

    Beacon 23 (2023) s01e07 “End Transmission” D: Greg Beeman. S: Stephan James, Lena Headey, Natasha Mumba, Wade Bogert O’Brien, Marc Menchaca, Jess Salgueiro, Daniel Malik. It’s slightly too busy with extraneous guest stars, but this episode ties together the previous six, revealing which flashback episodes were most important (maybe). Menchaca returns (because there’s always got to be a new visitor) ten years after his last appearance, knowing more about Headey than she knows about herself–until now. Great performance from Headey, as usual.

    Beacon 23 (2023) s01e08 “Adamantine” D: Tessa Blake. S: Stephan James, Lena Headey, Natasha Mumba, Eric Lange, Marc Menchaca, Jess Salgueiro, Daniel Malik. The season closes with some slips thanks to Salgueiro and Malik, who get more to do and do nothing with it, and the script, which dumps in overdue ground situation by the ton. Returning guest star Lange finally ties everything everything together, but no context for the stakes. The show’s herky-jerky plotting kicks it in the pants here.

    Beacon 23 (2023) s02e01 “Godspeed” [2024] D: Kevin Sullivan. S: Stephan James, Lena Headey, Natasha Mumba, Eric Lange, Marc Menchaca, Jess Salgueiro, Daniel Malik. Exit Headey? Exit the entire cast except James? The second season premiere plays more like a series finale, completing and postscripting every potential cliffhanger. It’s a very interesting move (especially if they mean it). But how would you know you’re even supposed to expect another episode? So many questions. Series best performances from Salgueiro and Lange, if they matter.

    Beacon 23 (2023) s02e02 “Purgatory” [2024] D: Lewin Webb. S: Stephan James, Natasha Mumba, Tara Rosling, Robinne Fanfair, Aldrin Bundoc, Noah Lamanna, Hannah Melissa Scott. Imagine traveling the galaxy without a care only to discover bureaucracy is still a thing. After ending the show (sort of) last episode, this one focuses on AI Mumba’s ominous debrief. But what does James have to do with it? The episode’s stylish and enthusiastic, even when unsuccessful. And Mumba–who’s never gotten anywhere near this much–is outstanding.

    Beacon 23 (2023) s02e03 “Iris” [2024] D: Angel Kristi Williams. S: Stephan James, Natasha Mumba, Ellen Wong. The show’s uptick flattens–at least for the first half of the episode, which introduces an entirely new character: another beacon-keeper, played by Ellen Wong. All of her initial character development is about being a girl in love with her penpal. It picks up when she goes to rescue James (as does Wong’s performance). Some rough going though.

    Beacon 23 (2023) s02e04 “Berth” [2024] D: Erskine Forde. S: Stephan James, Natasha Mumba, Bo Martynowska, Noah Lamanna, Ellen Wong. Truly strange mishmash of an episode where James and Wong bond over mechanical crisis, while Mumba fends off evil AI Lamanna. Very herky-jerky but it mostly works thanks to Wong, Mumba, and James. The show’s also introducing lots of space magic, but in bits and pieces so it can keep kicking the can. Helps Wong is so good.

    The Big Door Prize (2023) s02e01 “The Next Stage” [2024] D: Steven K. Tsuchida. S: Chris O’Dowd, Gabrielle Dennis, Josh Segarra, Sammy Fourlas, Djouliet Amara, Damon Gupton, Ally Maki. The episode jumps back to Maki’s story, revealing how and why she came to town (before the series started), then deals with last season’s cliffhanger. It’s a “same-night” follow-up, which is successful, but it still has a dawdling problem. The timing’s off, especially for O’Dowd and Dennis. But solid. With strong performances from everyone at this point.

    Crashing (2016) s01e01 “Episode 1” D: George Kane. S: Damien Molony, Phoebe Waller-Bridge, Jonathan Bailey, Louise Ford, Julie Dray, Adrian Scarborough, Amit Shah. Often very funny kick-off to the series about a group of almost thirty-somethings caretaking a hospital (which is left too unexplained). Waller-Bridge (who also writes the show) is the latest addition, visiting best friend Molony; they have more-than-friends chemistry. Where does that leave his fiancee, Ford? Sometimes repetitive jokes, but still a fine start.

    Crashing (2016) s01e02 “Episode 2” D: George Kane. S: Damien Molony, Phoebe Waller-Bridge, Jonathan Bailey, Louise Ford, Julie Dray, Adrian Scarborough, Amit Shah. Not as uproarious as the first episode, but lots of good character development (and still lots of laughs). Ford gets Waller-Bridge a job at her work, then immediately regrets it and tries to sabotage her on the first day. Meanwhile, Bailey drags Shah out of work on what seems to be a whim but maybe not. Super good.

    The Equalizer (2021) s04e04 “All Bets Are Off” [2024] D: Solvan Naim. S: Queen Latifah, Tory Kittles, Adam Goldberg, Liza Lapira, Laya DeLeon Hayes, Lorraine Toussaint, Mike Epps. Epps guest stars as a convict who can help Latifah and Kittles try to rescue his old partner from bad guy Elliot Villar. Epps easily walks away with the episode, even when he’s a little broad, and the script is even more so. There is some good emoting from Kittles and an earnest, if melodramatic, teen drama arc for Hayes.

    The Equalizer (2021) s04e05 “The Whistleblower” [2024] D: M.J. Bassett. S: Queen Latifah, Tory Kittles, Adam Goldberg, Liza Lapira, Laya DeLeon Hayes, Lorraine Toussaint. Multiple guest stars pop up in this action-packed episode: Lapira’s brother (Alain Uy) comes to town with a league of assassins in pursuit. Good thing Lapira is a crimefighter. Meanwhile, Toussaint’s got romance problems with Gloria Reuben, Kittles worries dad Danny Johnson will be a deadbeat granddad, and CIA HR is after Latifah and Donal Logue. The pacing helps.

    Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (2014) s11e04 “March 10, 2024: State Medical Boards” [2024] D: Paul Pennolino. S: John Oliver. After some concerning election coverage, the main story looks at state medical boards and how they’re a racket. Doctors covering for each other on complaints, plus ignoring their due diligence when giving new licenses. As usual, it turns out self-regulating is just a way to facilitate graft. Not all doctors, of course; just twenty thousand or so.

    Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (2014) s11e05 “March 17, 2024: Student Loan Debt” [2024] D: Paul Pennolino. S: John Oliver. Oliver tackles student loans and the lack of reform. It’s one of the technically not broken (well, still sort of) Biden achievements and the show gives it a decent trumpet. It reminds of the old Oliver, trying to arm people for family gatherings. Except this time it’s to prep talking to neo-libs.

    Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (2014) s11e06 “March 31, 2024: Food Delivery Apps” [2024] D: Paul Pennolino. S: John Oliver. Fascinating deep dive into food delivery apps, post-Rona, with all sorts of interesting history about their backgrounds as tech startups. In terms of communication, might be the best episode this season. Also “helps” the apps are so worker-hostile they’re obvious supervillains. Plus some good pre-feature laughs during the news.

    Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (2014) s11e07 “April 7, 2024: Death Penalty” [2024] D: Paul Pennolino. S: John Oliver. Really heavy death penalty episode with Oliver and the show doing a rare bit of investigative journalism and revealing the lab the U.S. government has been using to make lethal injection doses. It’s an industrial lube shop. Heavy feature about cruel, evil people. But there are two good dessert segments to round it off, for better or worse.

    Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (2014) s11e08 “April 14, 2024: Medicaid” [2024] D: Paul Pennolino. S: John Oliver. Oliver covers the horrors of Medicaid: corruption, incompetency, and evil. The opening segment focuses on the Arizona abortion decision, with some great details, so the transition to the feature is bumpy. Once the story focuses on the people affected–and the very obvious people hurting them (medical company CEOs)–it’s outstanding. The final bit’s cute, if long.

    Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (2014) s11e09 “April 21, 2024: UFOs” [2024] D: Paul Pennolino. S: John Oliver. After a really good segment white politicians (on both sides of the aisle and gender spectrum) being Islamophobic bigots about Biden nominee Adeel A. Mangi, Oliver does a deep dive into UFOs. It amounts to “someone should be more serious about it” and doesn’t even cover that guy bullshitting dummy House Republicans. Funny episode and clearly for the LOLs.

    Resident Alien (2021) s03e05 “Lovebird” [2024] D: Andrew Seklir. S: Alan Tudyk, Sara Tomko, Corey Reynolds, Alice Wetterlund, Levi Fiehler, Judah Prehn, Elizabeth Bowen. Tudyk and guest star Edi Patterson’s romance starts to distract him from his efforts to defeat the evil grey aliens, leading to Tomko and Wetterlund intervening. Their plan involves multiple attempts, each differently hilarious (always showcasing Tudyk and Patterson). Unlike last episode, this one feels like it’s getting the momentum going—lots of subplots getting stirred here.

    Resident Alien (2021) s03e06 “Bye Bye Birdie” [2024] D: Nastaran Dibai. S: Alan Tudyk, Sara Tomko, Corey Reynolds, Alice Wetterlund, Levi Fiehler, Elizabeth Bowen, Meredith Garretson. Tudyk experiences his first heartache thanks to girlfriend Edi Patterson (who keeps up with an extra-Tudyky Tudyk this episode) while Tomko and Wetterlund get into a big best friend fight. The episode oscillates between lots of laughs from Tudyk (but also Reynolds) and lots of heart with everyone else (including Reynolds). Really good episode for Bowen too.

    Resident Alien (2021) s03e07 “Here Comes My Baby” [2024] D: Brennan Shroff. S: Alan Tudyk, Sara Tomko, Corey Reynolds, Alice Wetterlund, Levi Fiehler, Judah Prehn, Elizabeth Bowen. Great, penultimate episode brings back lots of previous guest stars for cameos while working to resolve many of the outstanding, parenting-related arcs. Tudyk’s alien baby comes back to Earth, Tomko has an arc with her mom and daughter, Wetterlund has one with her parents. Plus loads of comedy. Meredith Garretson’s so good, too, on her abduction arc.

    Resident Alien (2021) s03e08 “Homecoming” [2024] D: Robert Duncan McNeill. S: Alan Tudyk, Sara Tomko, Corey Reynolds, Alice Wetterlund, Levi Fiehler, Judah Prehn, Elizabeth Bowen. Packed season finale for a show without a renewal; it brings back lots of guest stars to wrap up almost all the storylines, while setting up a cliffhanger with entirely new stakes. Some great moments for Tudyk, obviously, but also Fiehler, Bowen, and Wetterlund. Oh, and Enver Gjokaj—he’s awesome. Hopefully, they get another season (or just a streaming movie?). Movies might be better.

    Spy (2011) s01e01 “Codename: Loser” D: Ben Taylor. S: Dolly Wells, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay, Tom Goodman-Hill, Rebekah Staton. Very divorced dipshit Boyd accidentally gets a job at MI-5. Good setup, especially with Wright as the overachiever asshole son, Baynton as the jerk sidekick, and Lindsay as the super-cool secret agent. Lots of laughs, great timing from Boyd in particular (but everyone else too). Off to a strong start.

    Spy (2011) s01e02 “Codename: Tramp” D: Ben Taylor. S: Dolly Wells, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay, Rosie Cavaliero, Rebekah Staton. Starting his new job as a spy, Boyd immediately screws up and finds himself saddled with an unwanted houseguest (guest star Ed Gaughan). Brat son Wright delights in the chaos, while Boyd misses partner Staton’s romantic signals—he’s busy avoiding family therapist Cavaliero, who’s hot for his bod. As before, very funny stuff.

    Spy (2011) s01e03 “Codename: Grades” D: Ben Taylor. S: Ed Coleman, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay, Tom Goodman-Hill, Rebekah Staton. So far series peak in terms of character development and acting. Boyd hacks son Wright’s report card to cut him down to size, only to learn some empathy, and start almost flirting with co-worker Staton. Some good laughs for Baynton (who steals the hacking textbook) and Lindsay. The show’s hitting a stride.

    Spy (2011) s01e04 “Codename: Bookclub” D: Ben Taylor. S: Ed Coleman, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay, Tom Goodman-Hill, Rebekah Staton. The series jumps into the absurd—Wright running an underground casino for his fellow super-genius classmates, which eventually involves blackmailing headmaster Goodman-Hill. It goes just fine, clearing the bar with ease and grace and the best episode for Wright yet. Meanwhile, Boyd and Staton fumble towards romance. Plus some outstanding Lindsay laughs.

    Spy (2011) s01e05 “Codename: Blood” D: Ben Taylor. S: Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay, Rosie Cavaliero, Tom Goodman-Hill, Rebekah Staton. The absurdity continues—as Boyd gets an impromptu promotion after doing Lindsay a favor, Goodman-Hill makes Wright a powerful hallway monitor. The power goes to both their heads, with serious repercussions for one of them and more wholesome ones for the other. There’s a lot of good acting and funny bits, but it’s too rushed; too chaotic.

    Spy (2011) s01e06 “Codename: Portis” D: Ben Taylor. S: Dolly Wells, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Rosie Cavaliero, Tom Goodman-Hill, Rebekah Staton. The season finale does a very nice turn around—reining in certain types of the absurd while allowing others—and gives Baynton a great showcase. We also get development on Boyd and Staton’s romance. Fine character development progress all around. Wells, Goodman-Hill, and Wright lose their usual focus (but not too much), making room for Staton and Baynton. It’s a good finale.

    Spy (2011) s02e01 “Codename: Growing Rogue” [2012] D: John Henderson. S: Mark Heap, Dolly Wells, Miles Jupp, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay. Season two starts a little rockier than it should—Mark Heap replaces Tim Goodman-Hill and the writing’s weird. And new family therapist Jupp is perving after mom Wells, making her far too sympathetic. MI-5 agent Boyd helping Wright out with his student council election is good. And Lindsay’s great. But the rhythm’s a little off.

    Spy (2011) s02e02 “Codename: Riding High” [2012] D: John Henderson. S: Mark Heap, Dolly Wells, Miles Jupp, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay. Guest star Anna Skellern plays a too good to be true witness who has to stay with Boyd for protection. Meanwhile, Wright has his own problems with cool kid Frank Kauer. It’s okay enough, but there’s a bit much consolidating supporting cast stuff going on for it not to be concerning.

    Spy (2011) s02e03 “Codename: Lie Hard” [2012] D: John Henderson. S: Mark Heap, Dolly Wells, Miles Jupp, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay. So, the episode’s got a couple major “hero sexually harrasses a woman” scenes, some homophobia, and a subplot about Jupp trying to force himself on Wells using his position as her family therapist. It’s not great. Boyd and Wright spend the day together at MI-5, with Boyd trying to hide his real job. Almost okay, that bit. And Lindsay’s good (mostly). Otherwise, yikes, we’re out of ideas.

    Spy (2011) s02e04 “Codename: Mistaken Identity” [2012] D: John Henderson. S: Mark Heap, Miles Jupp, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay, Rebekah Staton. Overall strong episode still has Jupp being way too creepy, but it’s toned down. While Boyd and Staton have a chemistry-filled plot about filming an MI-5 TV commercial, Wright tries to figure out how to participate in a father-son trivia contest without his dad. Wright having less to do in his subplot… doesn’t not help.

    Spy (2011) s02e05 “Codename: Family Bonds” [2012] D: John Henderson. S: Mark Heap, Dolly Wells, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay, Rebekah Staton. Easy best of the season (so far) has Wells losing her memory and thinking she and Boyd are still together; complications ensue. Also, just before she lost her memory, she found out he’s a spy. So Lindsay’s trying to kill her. Maybe. Baynton and Heap have a whole subplot (it’s Heap’s best episode, too, he’s real good). And Staton gets stuff. SPY’s back?

    Spy (2011) s02e06 “Codename: Citizen Lame” [2012] D: John Henderson. S: Mark Heap, Terence Maynard, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay, Rebekah Staton, Lindsay Duncan. Really funny, but also really situational, work-focused episode for Boyd and Heap (no Dolly Wells this episode). Heap’s dealing with a personnel issue, which ties into Wright’s arc. Then Lindsay gets suspended and his replacement, guest star Duncan, turns out to be just as pervy about Terence Maynard as Lindsay gets about Boyd. Again, works out well–great Lindsay episode.

    Spy (2011) s02e07 “Codename: Ball Busted” [2012] D: John Henderson. S: Mark Heap, Dolly Wells, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay, Rebekah Staton. Okay but nothing special episode about Wright’s school hijinks with a new headmaster (Marian McLoughlin). She’s out to destroy Heap, who’s still around for story’s sake. Boyd’s arc involves trying to get a date for Wright’s school dance, but obviously he can’t ask Staton. Some good Baynton bits, including a number of songs.

    Spy (2011) s02e08 “Codename: Double Oh” [2012] D: John Henderson. S: Mark Heap, Dolly Wells, Miles Jupp, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay, Rebekah Staton. Boyd agrees to take an intelligence exam, betting Wright’s custody on it. He’s assuming he can just send his MI-5 double but the double’s got some problems. Way too much time is spent on Ed Coleman’s sexual predator antics, with some active misogyny from others, too. Far from the worst (or most problematic, I guess).

    Spy (2011) s02e09 “Codename: Pulp Friction” [2012] D: John Henderson. S: Mark Heap, Dolly Wells, Miles Jupp, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Rebekah Staton. It’s an incredibly slight, silly story about Baynton helping Wright get his book published by telling the publisher Wright’s terminally ill. It’s better than Boyd’s plot about manipulating Staton’s love life to his own advantage with her. Decent acting helps a lot with the thinness, even Boyd being a creep. Baynton and Wright are a good duo, too.

    Spy (2011) s02e10 “Codename: Last Scupper” [2012] D: John Henderson. S: Mark Heap, Dolly Wells, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay, Rebekah Staton. Romantic confusion abounds in another slightly broad episode. Boyd gets suckered into helping with Staton’s wedding plans to Terence Maynard, only for Lindsay’s assassination target plot to give him another chance with Staton. Meanwhile, Ellie Hopkins is sick of Wright and Frank Kauer fighting over her so she plans a showdown. The cast is really holding it up at this point.

    Spy (2011) s02e11 “Codename: Show Stopper” [2012] D: John Henderson. S: Mark Heap, Dolly Wells, Mathew Baynton, Darren Boyd, Jude Wright, Robert Lindsay, Rebekah Staton. Really nice Christmas special slash season finale wrapping up the show. It didn’t get another season, and it’s fine with it. Great Lindsay performance. Wright is in danger and Lindsay’s leading the charge—during the school talent show. Terence Maynard gets his spotlight and disappoints. He’s fine (and he’s slightly sabotaged), but still never anything more. Lots of good bits throughout, usually movie references.

  • Briefly, Movies (4 May 2024)

    Deadpool 2 (2018) The Super Duper Cut D: David Leitch. S: Ryan Reynolds, Josh Brolin, Morena Baccarin, Julian Dennison, Zazie Beetz, T.J. Miller, Karan Soni. Middling, meandering sequel has foulmouthed invincible mutant hero who never shuts up Reynolds becoming frenemies with time-traveling cyborg Brolin (the TERMINATOR riffs are the movie’s greatest success) while trying to stop teenage mutant Dennison from becoming a bad guy in the future. The movie hinges on Dennison’s deadpan; too bad they cast someone who can’t deadpan. Big eh.

    Godzilla Minus One (2023) D: Takashi Yamazaki. S: Ryunosuke Kamiki, Minami Hamabe, Yuki Yamada, Munetaka Aoki, Hidetaka Yoshioka, Sakura Ando, Kuranosuke Sasaki. Compelling concept GODZILLA, set immediately after World War II, before the country was able to rearm. It’s up to the war veterans, just finding some normalcy, to band together with industry. Lots of good, knowing nods to the franchise, great special effects, wonderful supporting cast, and abjectly boring lead Kamiki’s abjectly boring cowardice plot arc. Not fun–thrilling.

    Southern Comfort (1981) D: Walter Hill. S: Keith Carradine, Powers Boothe, Fred Ward, Franklyn Seales, T.K. Carter, Lewis Smith, Les Lannom. Apparently, director and co-writer Hill doesn’t see the very obvious Vietnam connection in his own movie, which explains why it goes to pot for the finish. Louisiana National Guardsmen versus Cajuns. Set in 1973. With a bunch of recent Vietnam vets. Sure, Jan. Some real good acting, photography, and even directing. The third act is just bunk.

    Shirley (2024) D: John Ridley. S: Regina King, Lance Reddick, Terrence Howard, Lucas Hedges, Michael Cherrie, Brian Stokes Mitchell, Christina Jackson. Jittery tale of Shirley Chisholm’s 1972 presidential campaign. While King’s compelling as Chisholm (despite director Ridley’s shallow, noncommittal script, and a sometimes unsteady Bajan accent), the film fails as a history lesson, a political drama, and a character study. Ridley flirts with all three and shrugs instead. Particularly nice support from Reddick, Cherrie, Jackson, and Hedges. Just too slight.

    The Lords of Flatbush (1974) D: Martin Davidson, Stephen Verona. S: Perry King, Sylvester Stallone, Henry Winkler, Paul Mace, Susan Blakely, Maria Smith, Renee Paris. Flashback picture about fifties Brooklyn teenagers King, Stallone, Winkler, and Mace’s “gang.” They mostly drink egg creams, bicker, and harass girls. King’s trying to get WASP Blakely to put out. Meanwhile, Stallone’s maybe readier to marry girlfriend Smith than he thought. Winkler and Mace barely figure in. Lousy soundtrack. Stallone’s not bad. So cheap it stops rather than ends.

    Coco (2017) D: Lee Unkrich. S: Anthony Gonzalez, Gael García Bernal, Benjamin Bratt, Alanna Ubach, Renée Victor, Ana Ofelia Murguía, Edward James Olmos. Outstanding Pixar effort about a Mexican boy who idolizes a famous (long dead) mariachi from the same town. Except the boy’s family forbids music because of some mariachi who once wronged them. Is it all connected? Maybe, but the boy’s one heck of an adventure to find out. Beautiful production design, animation, direction. Particularly great voice work from Bratt.

    Executive Suite (1954) D: Robert Wise. S: William Holden, June Allyson, Barbara Stanwyck, Fredric March, Walter Pidgeon, Paul Douglas, Louis Calhern. Bland pseudo-soap opera about a furniture manufacturer’s succession plan and the company men gaming for the throne. Then there’s nothing soapy except the structure. No time for subplots, just men and their honored women. Good performances from Pidgeon, March, and especially Calderon. Holden’s fine as the golden boy; Wise just doesn’t have a way to tell his story.

    Timerider: The Adventure of Lyle Swann (1982) D: William Dear. S: Fred Ward, Peter Coyote, L.Q. Jones, Richard Masur, Belinda Bauer, Ed Lauter, Chris Mulkey. Weird, low budget time travel adventure (no pun intended) with dirt bike champion Ward happening into a time portal back to the Old West. He has run-ins with outlaws (led by a lackluster Coyote), romances Creole gunslinger Bauer (who can’t do the accent so doesn’t get lines), and does cool dirt bike stunts. Tedious but not without its charms.

    The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare (2024) D: Guy Ritchie. S: Henry Cavill, Eiza González, Alan Ritchson, Henry Golding, Alex Pettyfer, Hero Fiennes Tiffin, Babs Olusanmokun. Bloody, funny WWII “true story” picture about Churchill’s bad boy squad, who do the job the regular chaps can’t. Cavill, Ritchson, Pettyfer, Fiennes Tiffin, and Golding mostly sail towards their set pieces, with land-based González and Olusanmokun getting the most story. Uniformly solid performances (save Rory Kinnear’s Churchill); Til Schweiger and Danny Sapani stand out in smaller parts.

    Deadstream (2022) D: Vanessa Winter. S: Joseph Winter, Melanie Stone. Inventive micro budget horror comedy about disgraced YouTuber Winter going to a haunted house for a night. Things don’t go well, sometimes to great comic effect. Winter’s most of the show—the makeup’s elaborate but still cheap so they rush through effects shots—and he’s up to the task, charisma-wise. Stumbles through the (admittedly difficult) finish.

    Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins (1985) D: Guy Hamilton. S: Fred Ward, Joel Grey, Wilford Brimley, J.A. Preston, George Coe, Kate Mulgrew, Charles Cioffi. Insipid action outing about cop Ward becoming an assassin for a secret government organization run by Brimley. Grey’s in yellowface, playing Ward’s mentor, an eighty-year old Korean man who routinely mocks white people. Mulgrew’s the female Army officer who discovers all the boys are corrupt murderers. Some okay action; terrible music by Craig Safan. Ward tries. Preston’s great as his supervisor. Based on Richard Sapir and Warren Murphy’s long-running DESTROYER book series. Followed by a TV pilot, THE PROPHECY, which didn’t go anywhere (and starred new people, but still a white guy as the Korean guy). From Dick Clark’s production company!

    A Midnight Clear (1992) D: Keith Gordon. S: Peter Berg, Kevin Dillon, Arye Gross, Ethan Hawke, Gary Sinise, Frank Whaley, Larry Joshua. Devastating WWII picture about a much-too-young sergeant (Hawke) commanding much-too-young soldiers on a poorly thought-out mission. Things get peculiar when the nearby German soldiers don’t attack. Beautifully scripted and directed by Gordon, based on William Wharton’s novel. Hawke’s a fine lead, with notably excellent turns from Berg and Sinise. Great Mark Isham score too.

    Withnail & I (1987) D: Bruce Robinson. S: Richard E. Grant, Paul McGann, Richard Griffiths, Ralph Brown, Michael Elphick, Daragh O’Malley, Eddie Tagoe. Initially outstanding study of friendship between two drunkard wannabe actors (Grant and McGann). It derails when their holiday away from mundane debauchery turns into an extended gay panic arc with McGann avoiding randy Griffiths. It never really recovers but almost does thanks to Brown’s phenomenal drug dealer. Gorgeous production (set in 1969), great music; it comes up short.

  • Briefly, Comics (4 May 2024)

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #270 W: Gerry Conway. A: Frank Chiaramonte, Jimmy Janes, Steve Mitchell. It’s a surprisingly packed issue, starting with the Legionnaires trying to escape a deep sea prison. On the surface, other Legion heroes investigate, getting into fairly regular battles with the Fatal Five. There’s also the interpersonal squabbling because Conway’s lazy with characterization. A decent issue for this creative team; badly done big reveal for the finish though.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #271 [1981] W: Gerry Conway. A: Jimmy Janes, John Calnan, Steve Mitchell. Despite Goodwin’s jarring second-person Dracula narration, Colan and Palmer’s artwork continues to impress, making even the most static dialogue visually captivating. The story involves Drac and a retired fashion model trying to regain her looks with a magic mirror (apparently mentioned in the Stoker novel). Meanwhile, the vampire hunters team up with Scotland Yard. Definitely an improvement over last issue.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #272 [1981] W: Gerry Conway, Marv Wolfman. A: Carmine Infantino, Dennis Jensen, Dick Giordano, Frank Chiaramonte, Jimmy Janes, Steve Ditko. Legion prospect and reformed (teenage, of course) super-villain Blok has now joined the good guys and we get his origin story along with his first official mission. Wildfire’s a dick to him (obviously) until learning the backstory. Blok’s more likable than most of these characters, which helps, and Ditko pencils are always interesting to see.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #273 [1981] W: Gerry Conway. A: Frank Chiaramonte, Jimmy Janes, Rich Buckler, Steve Mitchell. Conway retcons a story thread from a while ago only for it to be to bring back a big bad. We finally find out who drove Brainiac 5 so insane he tried to destroy the galaxy. Apparently, there was only one death and now he must pay. Goofy excuse for a comic. The art’s iffy, the villain’s fun.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #274 [1981] W: Gerry Conway, Jack C. Harris. A: Bob Smith, Frank Chiaramonte, Rich Buckler, Steve Ditko. Kind of cool, kind of bad issue about Ultra Boy not being dead just amnesiac and a space pirate. The Ditko pencils and the Chiaramonte inks clash, but it’s still a very well laid out book. Lots of cheesecake for some reason. And Conway flexing in strange places (women’s grief). Cosmic Ditko is cool too. The book’s very Silvery Bronze.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #277 [1981] W: Gerry Conway, Roy Thomas. A: Frank Chiaramonte, George Pérez, Jimmy Janes. Thomas takes over scripting, and it’s almost an improvement. Conway still has story credit and once the script gets absurdly talky, he’s missed. The Legion saves a sinking ship, which leads to suspense and heroics. Also momentum-killing blathering from Thomas. Then there’s a mystery hero, an absurd villain, and silly stakes. Some very unimpressive art too.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #278 [1981] W: Gerry Conway, Roy Thomas. A: Bruce Patterson, George Pérez, Jimmy Janes. Thomas’s writing is borderline insipid. He’s so weird about writing couples and there are so many couples in the issue. It’s a packed affair. While Grimbor’s energy chains crush the Earth’s atmosphere, Reflecto gets into a fight with the Legion. I’ll bet his secret is disappointing next issue. The Patterson inks are incredible. Sometimes the art’s not terrible.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #279 [1981] W: Roy Thomas. A: Frank Chiaramonte, George Pérez, Jimmy Janes. Time’s almost up for Earth’s oxygen but there’s always time for Thomas to wrap the Grimbor the Chainsman arc. It never stops being a little silly with Grimbor, who’s a blowhard in fetish gear, but there’s decent tension. The art’s not great but there’s occasionally effort. Thomas’s writing is improving, despite being banally obvious.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #280 [1981] W: Roy Thomas. A: Bruce Patterson, George Pérez, Jimmy Janes. Thomas’s writing falls off. His exposition is excruciating. The story has Superboy thinking he’s (presumed dead) Ultra Boy. After a long discussion about the situation, a team travels to the past to investigate. There they find Superboy a wanted man. Boy. He inexplicably messed up a nuclear detonation test. Thin stuff–with two desperate teasers pleading for attention.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #281 [1981] W: Paul Levitz, Roy Thomas. A: Bruce Patterson, George Pérez, Steve Ditko. Superboy continues thinking he’s Ultra Boy thinking he’s Superboy, the Legion hangs out in Smallville, and an old enemy appears out of nowhere to cause trouble. Levitz basically just does half a (very introspective) SUPERBOY comic (with delightful Silver Age-y Ditko and Patterson art), before doing a LEGION one focusing on Phantom Girl. Levitz just saved the LEGION.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #282 [1981] W: Paul Levitz, Roy Thomas. A: Bruce Patterson, Jim Aparo, Jimmy Janes. Scripting from Thomas’s story, Levitz does his best to wrap up the Superboy, Ultra Boy, Time Trapper arc. The resolution’s a bit of a whiff but the rest of the comic is so good it doesn’t matter. The art’s the best Janes has done on the series, with some able help from Patterson. Wonder what Levitz’ll do now.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #283 [1982] W: Roy Thomas. A: Bruce Patterson, Howard Bender, Jim Aparo. Okay-ish secret origin of Wildfire done-in-one. None of the detailed flashbacks explain why he’s a bigoted dick in the present. Speaking of–the inciting incident is him getting aroused by young hotties. Cool? Thomas is back, in his easy best issue (though it’s overwrought); still miss Paul Levitz (the tag promises his return next issue).

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #284 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Pat Broderick, Romeo Tanghal. Broderick does detailed future stuff and realistic, mulleted Legionnaires and it does not work with Levitz’s script. But the script’s got more problems than not. They initially seem to be doing a more sci-fi comic, but then it’s silly fake gore, and all the subplots are about the Legion being horny. I’m very sad it’s a Levitz.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #285 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt, Pat Broderick, Romeo Tanghal. It feels a little like a Saturday morning cartoon. It’s very sci-fi adventure, not superhero. But everyone’s in their goofy outfits. So cartoonish. The Legion is trying to save a spaceship repair yard. The art does better match the script tone, but neither are great. Levitz’s script is too horny and Broderick’s expressions are dismal.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #286 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Keith Giffen, Pat Broderick, Romeo Tanghal. The feature has some Legionnaires on R.J. Brande’s vacation planet when a villain decides to attack them. Broderick’s pencils are occasionally almost okay. But they always take a major dip. Some good dramatics in the script. Then the backup story is Princess Projectra and Karate Kid on her home world, where she’s got to defend the crown.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #287 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Keith Giffen, Romeo Tanghal. The feature has the Legion in political peril and a leadership crisis. Previously ignoring Lightning Lad’s resignation subplot, Levitz races through here. But the real danger is for the undercover Legionnaires on an ill-advised, unauthorized mission. The backup promises the next big story arc with a mystery villain, but LEGION always does mystery villains. Better art than usual.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #288 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Keith Giffen, Romeo Tanghal. Levitz’s got a nice device for checking on brewing subplots. He intentionally checks on them. It’s very straightforward and helps keep track of all the various Legionnaires’ storylines. The main one this issue has a Legion team saving Princess Projectra and Karate Kid. The art’s a little better too. There’s a lot of good action. Solid issue.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #289 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Carmine Infantino, Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. It’s mostly a downer issue. Not entirely, but so much of the Legion is lost or injured, it’s not a fun read. Levitz is really putting them through the paces. Chameleon Kid’s ill-fated espionage mission arc gets the most time. Giffen’s pencils (and layouts) are giving the book visual character, even if Patterson’s inks aren’t right.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #290 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Frank Giacoia, Larry Mahlstedt. Strong start to “The Great Darkness Saga.” As the mystery villain plots, the Legionnaires can’t stop his minions from stealing magical artifacts. Fine layouts from Giffen. The art’s better at the action and sci-fi, not so much the frequent soapy talking heads scenes. Also, almost all the male Legionnaires say something sexiest, like Levitz was tallying.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #291 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Howard Bender, Larry Mahlstedt, Rodin Rodriguez, Romeo Tanghal. It’s an interesting issue–Levitz splits the action between feature and backup stories. The feature has the Legion bickering over the election for leader while the mystery bad guy goes after supervillains to drain on them. The election story and the captured enemy get resolved in the backup. The other big change is the art; the backup’s got real personality.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #292 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. It’s the best issue of “Great Darkness” so far. Levitz and Giffen choreograph these intricate and elaborate fight scenes between the Legion and the Servants of Darkness (the minions). There’re some discoveries and reveals, though the answers are still asking more questions. Levitz manages some character work, albeit patronizing, but the action’s the point. And the plotting. So good.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #293 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. The penultimate issue and the mystery villain reveal. The Legion also figures out how to defeat the Servants of Darkness–well, some of them; maybe. Lots of good exposition work–Levitz checks in on characters and lets them catch each other up. Good device–keeps the book moving. Great layouts from Giffen. The art’s fine but those layouts are choice.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #294 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. The “Great Darkness Saga” ends in a mix of LEGION sci-fi done right and Kirby homage. It’s big and bold, with Levitz racing to keep the story on track. It’s like he’s guarding it on the way to the basket. And he never slips. Wonderfully evil Darkseid too. Kirby but scarier. The finale’s rushed, but the epilogue’s strong.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #295 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Dave Hunt, Howard Bender, Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Mostly flashback issue with Bender handling the pencils for those pages. Giffen takes it easy in the present. Timber Wolf and Blok watch an old Legion tape. It’s supposed to give Timber Wolf insight into girlfriend Light Lass’s ultimatum. It does not. The art’s bland and Timber Wolf’s a dip. Blok’s great. Not enough to save but close.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #296 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Levitz stumbles towards the end but otherwise it’s a very successful concept issue covering the Legion post “Saga.” They have two page adventures, sometimes interconnected. There’s a nuclear explosion and investigation subplot, so the Legion can be a little fascist. Just a little. Lots of righteous fury. And horny Legionnaires as usual. Low okay art but good layouts.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #297 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Cosmic Boy goes full fascist instead of the regular Legion-size fascist. He’s after the criminals who nuked his family and he won’t stop until they’re dead. The bad guys not the family. Cosmic Boy choses violence over checking their conditions. There’s some fine writing by the ending stinks. And the art gets way too design-y.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #298 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. It’s another “all Legionnaires are problematic” issue. They’re sexist, xenophobic, and cause wanton private property damage. Except Blok. He’s okay. He’s on a mission to a mining colony with Wildfire, who crap mouths him, their fellow Legionnaires, the mission, and rhe people they’re helping. All the dudes hate having a lady leader. Iffiest art in a while too.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #299 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. You know, outside the Legionnaires being testy towards one another, I don’t think there’s any undue hostility. There’s some good action against the space barbarian troll. Invisible Kid is still trying to find Wildfire, unaware of his teammates’ trouble. Plus there’s some light “starfighter” action. Overall, fun enough to overcome overtly patriarchal blather. Then the art’s bland but thoughtful.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #300 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Curt Swan, Dan Adkins, Dave Cockrum, Dick Giordano, Frank Giacoia, Howard Bender, James Sherman, Joe Staton, Keith Giffen, Kurt Schaffenberger, Larry Mahlstedt. Brainiac Five spends the anniversary issue sifting through alternate reality versions of Legions as he tries to save a mystery patient. The guest artists on each reality vary. None are ever particularly standout. It all seems rushed. Levitz does a little work on some of the ongoing threads. And despite Supergirl cameoing, sadly no cutesy for her and Brainy.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #301 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Chameleon Boy and his estranged father go to their nightmarish home planet so Cham can get his powers back. They run into trouble with their country-people, who consider them traitors. Then the rest of the Legion is hanging out, but mission assignments let the boys talk about how the female leader is the wrong thing ever. Good grief.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #302 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Lighting Lord comes to fight his brother to find out where their sister went. It feels like it takes a dozen Legionnaires to slow him down, but it’s really how Levitz is dragging it out. Then there’s conspiracy suspense with Element Lad and his science cop line interest. Plus more mystery villain reveals throughout, all for the forced cliffhanger.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #303 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Brainiac Five and Supergirl turn out to be the excellent pair I was expecting. They’re trying to stop a rogue artificial planet from crashing into a spaceship fleet. They’re not alone, but the other Legionnaires are just filling pages on the mission. Really uneven art this issue. Never very good but often really middling. Nice enough layouts, weak detailing.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #304 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Levitz uses his worst plotting device a few times this issue–keep something secret from the reader because it’s unknown to a handful of characters (but not necessarily most of them). It’s all for dramatic effect and always fumbles (here at least). The Legion trainees bicker with the girls cat fighting in lingerie. The art’s getting worse too.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #305 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Kurt Schaffenberger, Larry Mahlstedt. The Shrinking Violet mystery no one knew was a mystery until a couple issues ago gets resolved quite nicely here. Despite some yikes machismo from Levitz throughout, it’s a tense, compelling read. The Legionnaires’ investigation takes them unknown and unexpected places, with very strong plotting. And Colossal Boy not being a dipstick for once. Unfortunately, the art’s still sliding.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #306 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Curt Swan, Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Wow. It’s all about Star Boy hoping his girlfriend loses her re-election bid for Legion leader because she loves it more than him. Star Boy’s whining his life story to Wildfire as the results come in. The flashbacks have a lot of charm thanks to Swan, even if they’re about an abjectly tepid character. Call him, Narcissism Lad!

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #307 [1984] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Despite the best art in ages, the issue plays busy and rushed. Levitz is kicking off the next epic and the big bad is a religious figure called The Prophet. One Legion team is tracking him (or his energy trail), while another hangs out at his target–an enemy world where the Legionnaires are playing bodyguard. It’s too unfocused.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #308 [1984] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Besides some quick action, the feature is padding with the new big bad. He got space magic powers after the destruction of his science outpost. Unclear when the religious fanaticism came in. Levitz finds time for the boys to complain about girls not being demur enough. Then the backup is Colossal Boy’s mom being racist to his wife. Neat.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #309 [1984] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt, Mike Decarlo, Pat Broderick. The backup this time is Princess Projectra and Karate Kid’s honeymoon. All these backups just seem like too overdue character development. The feature is more with bad guy Prophet being able to kick all the Legion butt. Yawn. There is some checking in on simmering subplots, but nowhere near enough to compensate for the main event. This arc’s flopping.

    Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #310 [1984] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. I hadn’t been expecting much from this story arc and Levitz, Giffen, and company deliver even less. Giffen and Mahlstedt’s art has stabilized. It’s kind of a messy riff on Kirby. Fine if it’s your bag. But the action’s busy for busy’s sake. There’s a big unrelated surprise at the end, which feels like Levitz has just given up.

    Legion of Super-Heroes Annual (1982) #1 W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Dick Giordano, Keith Giffen. Even with some big bumps, Levitz, Giffen, and sometimes Patterson deliver a phenomenal annual. Brainiac Five messes up and an old enemy comes back to wreak havoc, turning HQ against the team. Levitz does it like a disaster movie. Also, he brings back the underutilized female science police officer from ages ago to strong result. It’s an outstanding book.

    Legion of Super-Heroes Annual (1982) #2 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Dave Gibbons, Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. It’s supposed to be Princess Projectra and Karate Kid’s wedding issue but instead it’s all about Dream Girl and her team getting stuck in the past. They go to Ancient Greece and find out the gods are just aliens. Evil ones. Gibbons’s guest art mostly disappoints. His figures are too bulky here. It reads well but it’s lukewarm overall.

    Monkey Prince (2021) #6 [2022] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. While technically a bridging issue, enough happens it never feels like one. Yang takes the action from Marcus’s new school troubles to Black Manta’s schemes (involving Marcus’s parents), to the Trench, to Atlantis, with a flashback to the Monkey King’s hijinks as well. Oh, and there’s some Darkseid (because Monkey King fought him). Really good Chang art this issue too. So much fun.

    Monkey Prince (2021) #7 [2022] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. The Aquaman… not guest spot, not crossover—stopover? Anyway, it continues swimmingly. As usual, Yang emphasizes the fun in this arc. Monkey Prince and Shifu Pigsy have to escape Aquaman to recover Monkeys magic staff. Except Black Manta comes looking to start trouble, with his cronies along for the ride. Those cronies are, of course, Monkey Prince’s parents. It’s another good one.

    Monkey Prince (2021) #8 [2023] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. Awesome resolution to the cliffhanger, with Monkey finally conquering some of his self doubt to save the day. There’s also great payoff with the arc’s supporting cast, very unexpectedly in some cases. Only Yang punts the parents are science goons resolution until later, which is lessening the effectiveness of the arc… and Marcus’s character development.

    Monkey Prince (2021) #9 [2023] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. Marcus and family head to Metropolis for this arc, but Yang skips through the setup. Instead, the issue opens with the big bad arriving on Earth and killing Marcus’s mom (or does he?). Marcus “discovers” some of his parents’ secrets, leading to him fighting Supergirl to protect them. It’s a rough start, but the cliffhanger reveal is outstanding.

    Monkey Prince (2021) #10 [2023] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. Yang is able to fit PRINCE into the company-wide crossover without being derailed. It’s LAZARUS PLANET (the crossover). The issue spends little time on it, instead staying focused on Marcus’s experiences—teaming up with Supergirl, fighting villainous granddad, talking to his crush, birthing some clones. The usual. Great double page spreads from Chang.

    Monkey Prince (2021) #11 [2023] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang, Haining. Well, I was sort of wrong about crossover success, sort of not. Monkey does go off to LAZARUS PLANET issues, while Dad and Grandad stay here. There’s some big reveals, with a Justice League cameo in the flashback, but it definitely feels like Yang lost the momentum and had to jump start it going again. It’s high grade fine.

    Monkey Prince (2021) #12 [2023] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. Yang masterfully pulls off the finish, which opens with some more LAZARUS PLANET debris before recommitting to MONKEY. Monkey discovers the truth about himself—well, from a particular point of view—and goes into crisis just when his friends need him most. Yang sends to think there’s going to be a sequel, but stays non committal. Some fine Chang art too.

  • The Twilight Zone (1959) s02e15 – The Invaders

    One of my major complaints about “The Twilight Zone” is the ending reveal somehow distracts from the rest of the episode. It’s a “gotcha” moment. And The Invaders does have a gotcha moment, and it does shuffle star Agnes Moorehead off-screen ingloriously, but at least it doesn’t do anything to undercut her performance.

    The episode begins with host Rod Serling explaining we’re at a farmhouse, not unlike many other farmhouses, except this one doesn’t have electricity. And its sole occupant, Moorehead, has lived on her own for many years. That detail seems to be setting up Moorehead not to have any dialogue. Throughout the episode, as she becomes more and more agitated, she gets more and more vocal, but there’s a hard limit.

    The “no electricity” detail allows for much of the episode’s terror. Moorehead goes from hearing sounds on the roof to battling the unexpected–tiny little alien men. The aliens have heat weapons, which cause welts–one of Moorehead’s best scenes (in twenty-some minutes of great scenes) is when she’s silently discovering her injuries and trying to dress the wounds. They may or may not jet pack technology. The episode’s definite about how many Invaders Moorehead has to fight, but it also likes having danger behind every door, around every corner. It’s dark, after all, and there are going to be noises from their spacesuits, so why not amp it up?

    Heyes does a fantastic job directing the episode, embracing the limited lighting–Moorehead’s on a quest for survival through the unseen familiar, but with new danger. Most of the episode showcases Moorehead’s performance. There are a handful of action set pieces; otherwise, it’s all about Moorehead’s expressions of fear, determination, and anger. With the scant details Serling delivers at the opening, we’re able to contextualize Moorehead’s experience until the twist, which intentionally turns it over.

    Outstanding teleplay from Richard Matheson. Did he write all the little moments for Moorehead or were they actor’s prerogative? There are certain story beats–finding the spaceship, losing this candle or that candle, planning scenes–but when it’s not an effects sequence, Invaders feels more like Moorehead’s doing a one-person show and showing off. She’s spellbinding.

    The special effects are adorable. The aliens are just mechanized toys, which someone had a great time making ambulatory. They mostly stand still and shoot at Moorehead with their phasers or whatever, but every once in a while it’s like somehow tossed them across the shot and–whee–jet packs.

    The ending twist changes the entire episode–Rod Serling’s got to be the least reliable narrator in television history–but Moorehead’s already done such fantastic work, there’s no lessening factor. Also–highly recommend watching with the lights out. Heyes and cinematographer George T. Clemens clearly meant it to be an uncanny tale for the dark.

    Oh, and the Jerry Goldsmith score is excellent, too.

    This post is part of the Third Agnes Moorehead Blogathon hosted by Crystal of In the Good Old Days of Classic Hollywood.

  • Tormented (1960, Bert I. Gordon)

    Tormented is the story of how the world’s greatest jazz pianist (Richard Carlson) lost it all because he wasn’t a forty-eight-year-old virgin. I mean, also because he let his former lover, played by Juli Reding, fall to her death without trying to help her. Good thing they’re on an island where any peculiar death results in a ghost haunting. Hence, Reding can take her vengeance while also revealing Carlson’s skinny moral fiber.

    Carlson’s on the island preparing for his big Carnegie Hall debut. At some point, he met and fell in love with local girl Lugene Sanders. She’s from a wealthy family and is “young,” according to Reding. Sanders is actually older than Reding, but… Sanders is virginal, and Reding is in showbiz. They’re a week away from the wedding, so many scenes involve Sanders being interested in the preparation and Carlson not being very interested.

    Sanders’s little sister (daughter of director Gordon, Susan Gordon) thinks Carlson’s just the best and wishes he’d marry her but he can’t because she’s only ten. Too bad they don’t live in one of those places where you can get married at twelve. Yow and double yow.

    Most of Carlson’s scenes are by himself, looking around for Reding’s ghost, who starts haunting him the day after her death. It takes him a few close encounters to believe it’s real, but then he spends a long stretch trying to ignore the haunting. If it weren’t for meddling water taxi captain Joe Turkel, he’d have gotten away with it, too.

    Turkel shows up around halfway through the movie and, poking around, realizes either Carlson has Reding in some pleasure hideaway… or she might just not be anywhere anymore. That kind of information should be worth some money, shouldn’t it? Especially since Sanders’s parents are rich (the actor playing her father, Harry Fleer, is younger than Carlson, but mom Vera Marshe is actually older than Carlson, who’d have thunk).

    At a certain point, the blackmail plot takes over from the haunting plot. Island horticulturist Lillian Adams seems to know what’s going on—even threatening Reding’s (unseen) presence—but then immediately disappears from the movie so Turkel can come in. Adams doesn’t even come back for the big wedding scene. The character is a blind person, and Adams does a lot of work for it, but there’s a scene where it’s apparent none of that work includes using the cane. See, Reding fell off a lighthouse, so everyone in the cast has to go to the lighthouse at one point or another.

    The special effects are, frankly, too cheesy to be taken seriously, but they’re not poorly done. Some of them are okay. And Tormented’s got great cinematography from Ernest Laszlo. Most of the movie is profile two-shots, but they fine.

    The same cannot be said for the music, composed by Albert Glasser. It’s a jazz score, but not a jazz piano score, and it seems like it’s for a beach party spoof version of the film.

    Carlson’s not good, but rather convincing as a very bad dude as the film progresses. Gordon gets a bunch, and she’s terrible–though with all of the ten-year-old’s dialogue being upset about not being a sexual object yet, did she have a chance? Yow, yikes, and yuck.

    Turkel is awesome. Sometimes, he’s good, and sometimes, he’s as good as the material lets him get, but he’s always awesome.

    Tormented’s too long at seventy-five minutes, but the various curiosity factors keep it going until Turkel shows up and takes over.

  • The Dark Past (1948, Rudolph Maté)

    The Dark Past opens with a lengthy, confidently showy, and capable POV sequence. Lee J. Cobb is arriving at work, just like anyone–and the movie does a lengthy “peoples is peoples” bit–except he’s a police psychiatrist. It’s his job to save kids from becoming hardened criminals, thereby not being on the taxpayer dime. It’s progressive but not too progressive. Cobb’s not some wuss.

    Cobb is outstanding in the film. It’s a sometimes silly role with the framing sequence, but when he gets to acting, it’s acting. Past is a remake of a stage adaptation, and Maté spotlights the actors. Well, Cobb and Holden. Cobb’s the protagonist and narrator, and Holden’s the star. The rest of the cast stays busy, but everyone gets left in the dust. It’s worst for Nina Foch. Second-billed, and she just disappears.

    Oh, yeah, the setup. So, when Cobb has to convince a cop a petty criminal is a human being, he tells the story of his adventure with Holden. Holden’s so infamous everyone recognizes his name. But apparently don’t know anything about his very consequential involvement with Cobb. No spoilers, but the more interesting story is the direct sequel.

    So, back to the setup. Holden and his gang crash Cobb’s dinner party. They need a place to wait for their getaway boat. While the guests give Holden’s gang minor trouble, Cobb gets around to psychoanalyzing Holden in a commercial for the Freud method. Holden’s a vicious killer who delights in toying with his prey, but Cobb sees some glimmer of humanity and tries to cure him. Foch kind of wants picket fences and helps Cobb.

    The second act is Cobb slowly unraveling the very simple knot Holden’s tied out of his subconscious. Holden can’t unravel it himself because he has repressed memories, which only come out in his single, ever-recurring nightmare. There’s an inverted color dream sequence. It’s not as successful as it should be.

    Despite his top billing, the film keeps Holden in reverse for a good while. Once the bad guys take everyone hostage, it takes time even to get Holden and Cobb talking. Partly because of Holden’s reticence, and partly because there are so many subplots cooking. Every single one of them gets left unfinished. The film often feels like the framing device is a distraction from the real story–which is sort of true because there doesn’t end up being a comparison between Holden and the kid criminal in the present. It’s not about criminals possibly being human; it’s about psychiatry curing them of their anti-social tendencies. Cobb’s not even concerned how the patient feels about things.

    It’s craven, and it makes for some great scenes. Holden can’t figure out Cobb’s angle, and–with the frame defining the character already–neither can the audience. Cobb’s intentionally inscrutable; the only thing the frame helps with.

    Lois Maxwell plays Cobb’s wife, who does get to fail Bechdel with Foch, but otherwise just sits around with son Robert Hyatt. He’ll end up with a bit to do before the movie drops him for the next subplot. Past is so noncommittal to its subplots, for a while near the end I thought they might even skip closing the bookend. At that point, with everything else unfinished, why do it anyway?

    Maxwell’s solid. She doesn’t get much at all. Foch is good with a little more. Between Holden and Cobb, Holden probably has the edge. It’s a showier role, but he’s also got an arc. Cobb’s just proving one point or another.

    While Past has its problems, the stars are phenomenal, Maté’s direction is good, and Joseph Walker’s black and white cinematography is beautiful.

    This post is part of the 6th Golden Boy Blogathon hosted by Emily of The Flapper Dame and Virginie of The Wonderful World of Cinema.

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • Briefly, TV (Winter 2024)

    All Creatures Great & Small (2020) s04e04 “By the Book” [2023] D: Stewart Svaasand. S: Nicholas Ralph, Samuel West, Anna Madeley, Rachel Shenton, James Anthony-Rose. While the majority of the episode concerns Shenton’s pregnancy fears, new guy Anthony-Rose works on his bedside manner (for the humans, not the animals). And Madeley has a monumental life change she quietly processes.

    All Creatures Great & Small (2020) s04e05 “Papers” [2023] D: Jordan Hogg. S: Nicholas Ralph, Samuel West, Anna Madeley, Rachel Shenton, Will Thorp, Patricia Hodge, James Anthony-Rose. Ralph is finally off to war, but frets about leaving West with no help other than new guy Anthony-Rose. For his part, Anthony-Rose gets the traditional CREATURES onboarding with the adorable Tricki Woo. Meanwhile, Madeley’s smoldering slow burn arc heats up a bit.

    All Creatures Great & Small (2020) s04e06 “The Home Front” [2023] D: Stewart Svaasand. S: Samuel West, Anna Madeley, Rachel Shenton, James Anthony-Rose, Will Thorp, Tony Pitts, Imogen Clawson. The episode feels like something of a rerun–Shenton’s worried about another miscarriage after moving back home with the fam. Meanwhile, Madeley’s got some momentous changes on the horizon (or does she?). It’s nice to see Clawson and Pitts, regardless.

    All Creatures Great & Small (2020) s04e07 “On a Wing and a Prayer” [2023] D: Jordan Hogg. S: Nicholas Ralph, Samuel West, Anna Madeley, Rachel Shenton, James Anthony-Rose, Imogen Clawson, Tony Pitts. Nice Christmas episode about Ralph trying to get home to see Shenton, even if it means he has to go AWOL. Back in town, West and Madeley throw the annual party. It’s a wee patriarchal and they’re in trouble with four more war seasons, but it’s nice.

    Casanova (2005) 3 episodes D: Sheree Folkson. S: Rose Byrne, Peter O’Toole, David Tennant, Laura Fraser, Rupert Penry-Jones, Shaun Parkes, Nina Sosanya. Too long miniseries with old man Casanova O’Toole telling stories of his younger days to maid Byrne. Tennant plays in the flashbacks; he’s cute, but O’Toole gets good, especially when Byrne pushes him. The visible TV budget hurts it. Writer Russell T Davies cast Tennant as DOCTOR WHO based on this part.

    Criminal Record (2024) s01e01 “Emergency Caller” D: Jim Loach. S: Peter Capaldi, Cush Jumbo, Zoë Wanamaker, Stephen Campbell Moore, Joana Borja, Ian Bonar, Chizzy Akudolu. Black female detective Jumbo comes across evidence of an innocent man in prison, only to find her bosses (and the original detective, Capaldi), don’t want to hear about it. It’s an AppleTV+ prestige outing, pretty and thin. Capaldi’s good enough; Jumbo’s likable if not particularly good.

    Criminal Record (2024) s01e02 “Two Calls” D: Jim Loach. S: Peter Capaldi, Cush Jumbo, Shaun Dooley, Cathy Tyson, Ian Bonar, Chizzy Akudolu, Andrew Brooke. After an exciting cliffhanger resolution, the episode gets way more self-contained, as Jumbo continues her investigation into top cop Capaldi. The acting’s all good enough (if only just at times), with Capaldi now feeling like a stunt cast. Is the show always going to be so episodic?

    Criminal Record (2024) s01e03 “Kid in the Park” D: Jim Loach. S: Peter Capaldi, Cush Jumbo, Shaun Dooley, Zoë Wanamaker, Charlie Creed-Miles, Cathy Tyson, Stephen Campbell Moore. Another episode, another main case, this time a (white) kid hit in a drive-by shooting. The show is quickly just becoming compelling characters in rote copaganda situations, albeit with British accents. Capaldi seems like he’s doing a Pacino impression.

    Criminal Record (2024) s01e04 “Protected” D: Jim Loach. S: Peter Capaldi, Cush Jumbo, Shaun Dooley, Zoë Wanamaker, Charlie Creed-Miles, Cathy Tyson, Stephen Campbell Moore. The show’s still spinning its wheels, feigning the contemporary murder investigation is important. Capadi’s veering into one note, especially given the serpentine reveals. They all make Capaldi more suspect and Jumbo more of a martyr. Literally.

    Criminal Record (2024) s01e05 “Possession with Intent” D: Shaun James Grant. S: Peter Capaldi, Cush Jumbo, Shaun Dooley, Zoë Wanamaker, Charlie Creed-Miles, Cathy Tyson, Stephen Campbell Moore. Capaldi’s cronies go after Jumbo’s son and push things over the edge. It’s extraordinarily serious stuff for the show and unclear it can survive the flex. Loads more big reveals and twists too. Some real good acting.

    Criminal Record (2024) s01e06 “Beehive” D: Shaun James Grant. S: Peter Capaldi, Cush Jumbo, Zoë Wanamaker, Charlie Creed-Miles, Cathy Tyson, Stephen Campbell Moore, Rasaq Kukoyi. It’s the first–and entirely unexpected despite it being the natural conclusion of multiple melodramatic devices–great episode of the show. Perfect amount of tense drama and a capable cast. Capaldi, Jumbo, Tyson, Kukoyi, and Creed-Miles are outstanding. It won’t be as good again.

    Criminal Record (2024) s01e07 “The Sixty-Twos” D: Shaun James Grant. S: Peter Capaldi, Tom Moutchi, Shaun Dooley, Charlie Creed-Miles, Georgina Rich, Cathy Tyson, Mark Weinman. Big reveal flashback episode. Great Capaldi and Moutchi performances, intricate, deliberate scripting. But it is all to excuse racism, knowingly, in copaganda. And the cliffhanger in the present is oddly complacent in continuing it. Only with some misogyny. But maybe they’ll pull it off?

    Criminal Record (2024) s01e08 “Carla” D: Shaun James Grant. S: Peter Capaldi, Cush Jumbo, Shaun Dooley, Charlie Creed-Miles, Georgina Rich, Rasaq Kukoyi, Tom Moutchi. Half excellent, half eh finish. Jumbo and Capaldi are great oil and water cop show partners, except of course… he maybe framed an innocent Black guy. All is revealed, with about four endings too many, and none with the right characters. Real good acting all around, even with the rushed third act.

    Deadwater Fell (2020) 4 episodes D: Lynsey Miller. S: David Tennant, Cush Jumbo, Anna Madeley, Matthew McNulty, Stuart Bowman, Lisa McGrillis, Laurie Brett. 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 question. 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.

    Death and Other Details (2024) s01e01 “Rare” D: Marc Webb. S: Violett Beane, Lauren Patten, Rahul Kohli, Angela Zhou, Hugo Diego Garcia, Pardis Saremi, Mandy Patinkin. Attempt at a KNIVES OUT (but with lots of sex) mystery set on a 1%er yacht. Beane’s the adopted poor with a tragic past and an acerbic wit. Once there’s a murder, she gets investigating alongside childhood disappointment Patikin, who failed to solve her mother’s murder. Patikin’s the whole show (once he arrives), Beane’s not ready for the lead, and the whole thing’s desperate.

    Death and Other Details (2024) s01e02 “Sordid” D: David Petrarca. S: Violett Beane, Lauren Patten, Rahul Kohli, Angela Zhou, Hugo Diego Garcia, Mandy Patinkin, Jere Burns. Slightly better than the first episode, but still a severe lack of charisma from anyone but Patinkin (and Zhou). It doesn’t help the murder victim (Michael Gladis) is the most likable character.

    Death and Other Details (2024) s01e03 “Troublesome” D: Alrick Riley. S: Violett Beane, Lauren Patten, Rahul Kohli, Angela Zhou, Hugo Diego Garcia, Mandy Patinkin, David Marshall Grant. Patinkin makes every scene good–whether supporting Beane or Linda Emond as the too Swedish Interpol agent–but the plot’s still dull, the style intentionally confounding, and Patten terrible. Just
    embarrassingly terrible.

    Death and Other Details (2024) s01e04 “Hidden” D: Alrick Riley. S: Violett Beane, Lauren Patten, Rahul Kohli, Angela Zhou, Hugo Diego Garcia, Linda Emond, Mandy Patinkin. There’s about half a really good episode here, by far DEATH’s best. Turns out having likable characters–especially unexpectedly likable characters–helps. Patinkin continues to delight in a part where the performance is the thing. Beane’s getting more comfortable. It’s 40% fine. 35%.

    Death and Other Details (2024) s01e05 “Exquisite” D: Yangzom Brauen. S: Violett Beane, Lauren Patten, Rahul Kohli, Angela Zhou, Pardis Saremi, Linda Emond, Mandy Patinkin. Beane has a picturesque Maltese date with Kohli while Patinkin teams up with Pardis Saremi to hunt Keyser Sozo. Plus Patten doing business stuff. It’s better than the low but not particularly good. Saremi’s fantastic though. The show hasn’t been good to her.

    Death and Other Details (2024) s01e06 “Tragic” D: Yangzom Brauen. S: Violett Beane, Lauren Patten, Rahul Kohli, Angela Zhou, Pardis Saremi, Linda Emond, Mandy Patinkin. Turns out Patten is a great singer at least. Lots of developments and reveals this episode–no one and nothing as they seem (again)–to get the chairs in order for next episode’s reveals (again). Kohli’s real good, ditto Edmond.

    Death and Other Details (2024) s01e07 “Memorable” D: James Griffiths. S: Violett Beane, Lauren Patten, Mandy Patinkin, David Marshall Grant, Michael Gladis, Jack Cutmore-Scott, Jere Burns. Initially obnoxious stylized flashback episode where Beane reviews Patinkin’s casework all those years ago. It gets real bad at times, partially because concept, partially because Griffiths’s direction is bad. But somehow, it gets through, and all of a sudden, there’s intrigue and compelling situations. With not insignificant caveats but… it works.

    Death and Other Details (2024) s01e08 “Vanishing” D: James Griffiths. S: Violett Beane, Lauren Patten, Angela Zhou, Linda Emond, Mandy Patinkin, Lisa Lu, Jere Burns. The plot dominos are falling at an accelerated rate, making for a packed episode, which jogs back before last episode, runs parallel, then runs subsequent. I’m sure someone thought it was a neat idea, but it’s not. Desperate Wes Anderson-esque direction too. Some real good acting, some bad; it’s Patten’s best episode, another good one for Zhou.

    Death and Other Details (2024) s01e09 “Impossible” D: Dinh Thai. S: Violett Beane, Lauren Patten, Rahul Kohli, Hugo Diego Garcia, Jack Cutmore-Scott, Danny Johnson, Christian Svensson. Beane’s got to do an episode without Patinkin, which actually works out. She’s come a long way on the show (and this episode continues to reveal the writing’s failing her). The passengers are now hostages; really good episode for Johnson, bad one for Cutmore-Smith. And then the cliffhanger reveal is actually a surprise. Multiple ones, in fact.

    Death and Other Details (2024) s01e10 “Chilling” D: Dinh Thai. S: Violett Beane, Lauren Patten, Angela Zhou, Hugo Diego Garcia, Pardis Saremi, Linda Emond, Mandy Patinkin. Yikes, it’s so bad. The episode has lots to resolve–there are a couple decent twists, but it’s mostly atrocious. Beane and Patinkin never even get their due, presumably something for season two, which they very ill-advisedly set up. Every scene ends with a fade-out ending moment, and there are about twenty scenes. It’s exhausting. And awful.

    Doctor Who (2005) s14e00 “The Church on Ruby Road” [2023] D: Mark Tonderai. S: Ncuti Gatwa, Millie Gibson, Michelle Greenidge, Angela Wynter, Gemma Arrowsmith, Anita Dobson. Not great but okay enough outing for new sexy, Black, possibly queer Doctor Gatwa, who continues to be Black, sexy, and possibly queer. The adventure includes on-demand retcons, goblins, skyships, and an iffy new companion, Gibson. Gatwa can hold things together fine, though.

    Echo (2024) s01e01 “Chafa” D: Sydney Freeland. S: Alaqua Cox, Chaske Spencer, Tantoo Cardinal, Devery Jacobs, Cody Lightning, Graham Greene, Vincent D’Onofrio. Spin-off from HAWKEYE show for anti-hero Alaqua Cox, except ECHO’s a DAREDEVIL character so there’s a lengthy setup involving D’Onofrio (and featuring a Charlie Cox cameo as Daredevil) leading up to the events in HAWKEYE. Way too busy front, with the later series setup (Cox going home to Oklahoma) much better. The fighting’s okay, but there’s not enough. Good acting. Panavision aspect’s a tad much.

    Echo (2024) s01e02 “Lowak” D: Sydney Freeland. S: Alaqua Cox, Chaske Spencer, Tantoo Cardinal, Devery Jacobs, Cody Lightning, Graham Greene, Vincent D’Onofrio. Sort of fun episode (fun for ECHO) with Cox trying to get her family onboard with taking on D’Onofrio’s crime empire. Graham Greene’s adorable as Cox’s dad. It’s trope after trope, but it’s fine; they’re setting a low bar and clearing it.

    Echo (2024) s01e03 “Tuklo” D: Catriona McKenzie. S: Alaqua Cox, Chaske Spencer, Tantoo Cardinal, Devery Jacobs, Cody Lightning, Graham Greene, Vincent D’Onofrio. Phenomenal action episode with Cox having to rescue her civilian friends from D’Onofrio’s hitmen. Fantastic direction from McKenzie. It’s just a really good done-in-one. With, apparently, a THIN RED LINE homage.

    Echo (2024) s01e04 “Taloa” D: Sydney Freeland. S: Alaqua Cox, Chaske Spencer, Tantoo Cardinal, Devery Jacobs, Cody Lightning, Graham Greene, Vincent D’Onofrio. Another great episode–probably the series peak given it’s an increase after the previous high–with a bunch of character development for D’Onofrio. He’s outstanding as the show flashes back into his relationship with Cox. Very on it episode.

    Echo (2024) s01e05 “Maya” D: Sydney Freeland. S: Alaqua Cox, Chaske Spencer, Tantoo Cardinal, Devery Jacobs, Cody Lightning, Graham Greene, Vincent D’Onofrio. Incredibly rushed finale centering around the tribe’s powwow, which they’re basically just introducing now. Can Cox defeat D’Onofrio’s hitmen as they crash? Possibly with magic? It’s nicely made, with a weirdly wasted (but also not) last fight. The rush means skipping connecting the dots, which doesn’t help the actors at all.

    The Equalizer (2021) s04e01 “Truth for a Truth” [2024] D: Solvan Naim. S: Queen Latifah, Liza Lapira, Adam Goldberg, Tory Kittles, Laya DeLeon Hayes, Lorraine Toussaint, Ilfenesh Hadera. Latifah quickly wraps up last season’s cliffhanger so she can hunt ex-bestie, back-from-the-dead-and-bad guest star Hadera. Meanwhile, Hayes and Toussaint have a weird day at home worrying about things. The action’s not good, but it’s nice having the whole team together (Kittles hangs out). And Hayes and Toussaint have heart.

    The Equalizer (2021) s04e02 “Full Throttle” [2024] D: Solvan Naim. S: Queen Latifah, Liza Lapira, Adam Goldberg, Tory Kittles, Laya DeLeon Hayes, Lorraine Toussaint, Eden Marryshow. Same bad direction from Naim and some not great writing or acting, but… the show’s trying to introduce a restorative justice angle (without naming it), and it’s interesting. The main plot involves drag racing, diplomats, and diamonds, with a mystery investigation backbone. Then Toussaint’s at home trying to convince Hayes the military’s a bad choice, and it’s a good subplot.

    The Equalizer (2021) s04e03 “Blind Justice” [2024] D: Geoffrey Wing Shotz. S: Queen Latifah, Liza Lapira, Adam Goldberg, Tory Kittles, Laya DeLeon Hayes, Lorraine Toussaint, Marvin Jones III. After a rocky start, the episode evens out okay with a nice guest star turn from Jones as a blind vet who knows the secret to Latifah’s case. Toussaint and Hayes having a delightful casual mystery at an old folks home might be what puts it over (definitely). And the ostensible sincerity helps.

    Grantchester (2014) s08e05 “Episode 5” [2024] D: Martin Smith. S: Robson Green, Tom Brittney, Al Weaver, Tessa Peake-Jones, Kacey Ainsworth, Oliver Dimsdale, Nick Brimble. Partially a pilot for Bradley Hall and Melissa Johns as the lead coppers, while Brittney continues his sad man arc. Weaver’s by far got the most heart here.

    Grantchester (2014) s08e06 “Episode 6” [2024] D: Rob Evans. S: Robson Green, Tom Brittney, Al Weaver, Tessa Peake-Jones, Kacey Ainsworth, Charlotte Ritchie, Nick Brimble. Season finale takes an “all’s well if it ends well” approach to Brittney’s guilt and self-loathing arc, in no small part thanks to Green’s interventions. Some good scenes (finally) for the ladies–Ainsworth, Peake-Jones, Ritchie.

    Inside Job (2021) s01e01 “Unpresidented” D: Pete Michels, Vitaliy Strokous. S: Lizzy Caplan, Clark Duke, Christian Slater, Brett Gelman, John DiMaggio, Tisha Campbell, Bobby Lee. Okay animated comedy about Cognito Inc., the banal office space behind the Deep State. Caplan is the driven woman who doesn’t make enough friends for the white guys, so she’s paired with Duke, a lovable but untalented bro. Slater’s Caplan’s dad, doing the Nicholson impression he’s been mastering since youth. It’s okay. Duke’s a lot better than Caplan, but her writing’s bad.

    Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (2014) s11e01 “February 18, 2024: Supreme Court” [2024] D: Paul Pennolino. S: John Oliver. Oliver goes after the Supreme Court in general and Clarence Thomas in particular, recapping all the reveals on Thomas’s profound corruption. Oliver’s got a funny potential. If only. There’s also a bit on out-of-touch politicians, but really maybe we just shouldn’t let terrible white people speak in public?

    Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (2014) s11e02 “February 25, 2024: Pig Butchering” [2024] D: Paul Pennolino. S: John Oliver. Oliver covers “pig butchering,” a successful social engineering scam where the scammers catfish people out of money, except with the added accouterments of crypto currency and the scammers actually being human trafficked hostages. Very humanist take—don’t abuse the hostages in the Global South, Karen. Depressing, worrying, quite good.

    Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (2014) s11e03 “March 3, 2024: Airplanes” [2024] D: Paul Pennolino. S: John Oliver, Rose Byrne, David Costabile, Adam Pally, Roy Wood Jr.. After their latest problems with the FAA, Oliver’s feature is on Boeing and how the company’s fallen apart since a late 1990s merger. Basically, the company’s been cravenly indifferent to safety immediately following the merger. Oliver emphasizes pleading with the company not to be full of shit and kill people. Good luck? The amusing gag commercial has a DAMAGES reunion with Rose Byrne and David Costabile.

    Resident Alien (2021) s03e01 “Lone Wolf” [2024] D: Robert Duncan McNeill. S: Alan Tudyk, Sara Tomko, Corey Reynolds, Alice Wetterlund, Judah Prehn, Gracelyn Awad Rinke, Enver Gjokaj. Changes are coming to ALIEN in this setup for the season (not just the kids getting a lot older, either). Tudyk’s ever the delight, ditto Reynolds. The A plot is Tomko unintentionally romancing evil alien Gjokaj. Good acting, nice directing and writing. Solid stuff, with a surprisingly sincere finish.

    Resident Alien (2021) s03e02 “The Upper Hand” [2024] D: Lea Thompson. S: Alan Tudyk, Sara Tomko, Corey Reynolds, Alice Wetterlund, Levi Fiehler, Enver Gjokaj, Meredith Garretson. Tudyk, Tomko, and Wetterlund team up to investigate evil alien hybrid Gjokaj, while the rest of the town works on their subplots. Lots of heart again, lots of comedy. Some really good acting from Tudyk, Gjokaj, and Reynolds. Thompson’s direction is good. ALIEN is steady as ever.

    Resident Alien (2021) s03e03 “141 Seconds” [2024] D: Robert Duncan McNeill. S: Alan Tudyk, Sara Tomko, Corey Reynolds, Alice Wetterlund, Judah Prehn, Elizabeth Bowen, Jenna Lamia. Tudyk crashes Prehn’s family vacation to Yellowstone because the greys seemingly have something going there. Intrigue and hilarity abound. Back home, everyone has a lackadaisically paced mystery-related subplot, with a lot more time spent on the human factor. Particularly for Tomko, Bowen, and Reynolds. The cliffhanger sets up the season. Off direction from McNeill, however.

    Resident Alien (2021) s03e04 “Avian Flu” [2024] D: Kabir Akhtar. S: Alan Tudyk, Sara Tomko, Corey Reynolds, Alice Wetterlund, Levi Fiehler, Judah Prehn, Elizabeth Bowen. Tudyk falls for the alien sent to evict him from Earth (guest star Edi Patterson), while Reynolds and Bowen crack their case, Tomko bonds with daughter Kaylayla Raine, and Meredith Garretson breaks down (even more). Lots of laughs, heart, and fears, and a great Tudyk performance. Good episode distracts from the season’s still slow start.

  • One-Percent Warrior (2023, Yamaguchi Yudai)

    The One-Percent in One-Percent Warrior’s title does not refer to the super-rich, but rather when someone transcends in their film-related martial arts excellence. The majority of the film is just a forty-minute action sequence with star Sakaguchi Tak roaming around an abandoned zinc factory—on its own little CGI island—and kicking various butt. A lot of it is the same butt. It was in the second or third big beat-down I realized all of the bad guys have their faces covered so they can keep getting beaten down.

    But forty minutes isn’t a movie, so Warrior’s has a very complicated story tacked on.

    The movie opens with documentary interview footage about how Sakaguchi’s such a badass; even though he’s just an action movie star, he can kick his special forces buddies’ asses too. He can dodge bullets. Sakaguchi doesn’t necessarily get a lot to do in the film—even when he’s got the big reveal, which I’ll dance around later—he doesn’t do a lot. But he manages to make the bullet dodging believable.

    And he’s socially awkward enough you can believe it when he can’t hold a steady job. His latest gig is on a period piece where he very quickly mouths off too much and gets fired. On this particular job, however, he meets Fukuyama Kohei, who thinks Sakaguchi’s an action god. Fukuyama becomes Sakaguchi’s sidekick and trainee, listening to Sakaguchi talk about his martial arts and his dream of the perfect action film.

    So much talking.

    Fukuyama convinces Sakaguchi to try to get funding, which leads them to the abandoned zinc factory island. They’ve got to find a location, after all. There, they discover another film crew already scouting the same location. Before that scene even finishes, Warrior adds the next plot wrinkle—they’re both scouting a location where a dead mobster hid his cocaine and now one set of bad guys has brought the dead mobster’s daughter (Fukuda Rumika) to find it.

    Except… there’s also another set of mobsters who want the cocaine, so they’re trying to kill those gangsters without hurting Fukuda. They’ve got other gangster’s daughter Harumi Kanon with them. Harumi’s a vicious killer, not naive like Fukuda, so there’s a whole juxtaposition thing.

    Fukuyama will end up bonding with Fukuda, but there’s no payoff for it, which stinks because Fukuyama’s really likable in the scenes. It also stinks because it plays into the third act reveal, which part and parcel lifts one of the more famous movie twists from the twentieth century. While Warrior uses the twist just to get to stop the movie—it’s very low budget, and they do a lot with that budget, but there’s a limit, and they do hit it multiple times—but the twist also suggests there’s all sorts of character development they could’ve done but didn’t. Even within the constraints of the established format (the documentary interviews and so on).

    It’s a real bummer because Warrior overcomes a turgid first act to actually get moving once the action starts. Sakaguchi can obviously do his job, but Fukuda, Harumi, Fukuyama—they all come through. Even the gangsters are solid. Warrior goes into the finale much stronger than expected, albeit because we’re worried about characters we may or may not need to be worried about, but still. Warrior’s second act rally is significant.

    And then it all crashes down.

  • The Moon (2023, Kim Yong-hwa)

    The Moon runs about two hours, but it’s got enough story for eight. About the only way to tell all the story it’s got overflowing would be a miniseries remake. And even then, you could probably toss on another couple of episodes to even it all out.

    The film concerns South Korea’s second attempt at a moon landing. Their first attempt blew up five years before this one. Moon takes place in 2029, so the first attempt was 2024. It doesn’t so much take place in the near future as the immediate future and then the very near future. Except, for all the truthiness of Moon, there isn’t any. Korea’s doing a solo moon mission because they want to take all the water out of the moon (we’ve discovered there’s probably water under the surface, and whoever controls the water controls the spice). The United States and all the other English-speaking countries with white people have teamed up to share the moon–no word on anyone else.

    The U.S.-led group also has a space station orbiting the moon at all times. It has landers on it so they can go down and do a Tom Hanks-inspired skip and sing whenever they want, but Moon almost immediately establishes no one has walked on the moon since the seventies. This new mission is going to be the first time since then. Actually, wait, it might be possible only Americans have walked on the moon, including since the seventies, which means they don’t let the other astronauts on the lunar space station go walking on the moon because Americans are dicks.

    Americans are dicks is another of Moon’s subplots, it turns out. See–and buckle in–disgraced Korean Astronautics and Space Center (NASC) flight director Sol Kyung-gu, who oversaw the previous tragic mission, is back because he designed the control module, and they need him. His ex-wife (Kim Hee-ae) dumped him, moved to the United States, renounced her Korean heritage, married a white dude to raise her son with her, and became the head of NASA. Lots of Moon involves Kim telling Sol to shove it whenever they need help.

    Now, there’s the subtext about South Korea wanting to strip-mine the moon and not share with anyone else, especially Kim. It’s bizarre. The geopolitical implications are all very, very strange.

    But Moon doesn’t get into any of them. Not when it’s also got one of the astronauts–Do Kyung-soo–vastly unqualified for the mission. It turns out his dad (Lee Sung-min in a not-tiny but always silent cameo) was Sol’s partner on the previous mission, and when it went bad, Lee was the one who killed himself in disgrace. Another big thing about The Moon–basically all of the Korean guys in authority positions imply they frequently consider suicide instead of having to apologize or be uncomfortable. It’s so much.

    But also Sol and Do don’t know they’re working together. And they have so many secrets from one another.

    Presumably, Do has another secret, which somehow the film felt the need to cut–he’s supposed to be an elite ROK Navy SEAL, except he’s terrible under pressure and spends all his time not under pressure panicking about being under pressure. The other astronauts–who disobey orders and kick ass because they’re astronauts, bro–make fun of him for being such a worry wart.

    There’s also Sol’s sidekick, Hong Seung-hee, taking up screen time because they wanted an ingenuine (at one point, she and Do seem like they’re going to have a long-distance connection, but it’s actually nothing, which is weird). Oh, and new KASC political appointee Jo Han-chul is freaking out about everything because he wanted an easy government job without any responsibility.

    See, it could easily go eight episodes. I haven’t even gotten into the constant terror everyone finds themselves in once things start going wrong.

    Not talking about what goes wrong isn’t necessarily a “no spoilers” decision, either. The Moon’s a science and technology thriller a la Apollo 13 but since it’s based in a poorly thought-out reality (courtesy director Kim’s script) and doesn’t pretend to know any of the engineering whatsoever… it’s just a bunch of words and visuals out of other movies. The special effects are great, no complaints in that department, but they’re just showing various, pre-existing visual tropes.

    In all, Moon’s not original (though letting melodrama knock a science thriller off course so much isn’t common), but it’s usually compelling. Do’s not good, but he’s sympathetic. It’d have helped if they revealed he’d faked his way onto the mission, just so the KASC astronauts don’t seem incompetent. Sol’s fine, but there’s not a part there. The rest of the supporting cast is solid–Jo’s a lot of fun, always in the background.

    The Moon’s a very tense, simultaneously bloated and thin special effects extravaganza. The only thing missing is the human drama, making it a phenomenal contrast between that genre and melodrama.

  • Dr. Cheon and the Lost Talisman (2023, Kim Seong-sik)

    Until the third act, when it suddenly becomes clear the film never really had anywhere to go (at least not in this installment), Dr. Cheon is mostly delightful. Even the listless ending isn’t not entertaining, it’s just listless.

    After a magic-heavy dream sequence opening, Cheon settles into the gag–Gang Dong-won is a “doctor” who solves hauntings for his YouTube channel. Lee Dong-hwi plays his faithful sidekick, who does all the editing, takes the pay, doesn’t ask too many questions. Not even about Gang’s actual scheme: he’s a trained psychiatrist who knows he can’t cure people’s cultural beliefs in ghosts but can address the symptoms.

    Or something. Lee doesn’t care as long as the checks clear.

    It will turn out Gang’s actually using the actual mental health help racket to track down the very real, very evil shaman who killed his little brother and grandfather. Huh Joon-ho plays the evil shaman, who can possess people with ease, which makes for numerous good chase sequences and fight scenes. Dr. Cheon’s least realistic element might be Gang’s adeptness as a combination street and sword fighter. While the film hints at his quest to identify Huh (whose existence is something of a theory between Gang and his mentor, Kim Jong-soo), there’s no indication Gang’s been training.

    Maybe it just comes with the magic.

    The setup involves Gang and Lee taking damsel-in-distress Esom’s case and heading to a remote village. Esom can see dead people all around her and so on, including the evil spirit inhabiting her little sister, Park So-yi. Esom’s ostensibly going to be Lee’s love interest (Gang’s got no time for love), but no one told Esom. And then the movie itself forgets about it towards the end. Dr. Cheon only runs ninety-eight minutes, and they’re clawing for that runtime; there’s lots of delay. Good thing the cast’s so fun.

    Well, Gang, Lee, and Kim. And Park to some degree. Since Esom’s in the place of Gang’s love interest but isn’t, she’s missing traditional functions. For a while, it seems like she might have more significance than a plot delivery device.

    She does not.

    Huh’s a threatening villain, but still cartoonish.

    For most of the film, director Kim keeps a fine pace going, balancing the comic and action sequences. The story’s small but big, with the second act dipping into the flashback well a little at a time until the whole story finally comes out. But the geography–Esom and Park’s haunted village and its immediate surroundings (well, drivable immediate surroundings)–is rather finite. And since the movie spends the first half pretending Gang shouldn’t have a plan for this eventuality (one of his “fake” exorcisms leading to the real magic bad guy), it starts feeling cramped.

    So instead of focusing on Gang, Dr. Cheon leans heavily on everyone else. Esom’s got damsel stuff, Lee and Kim have sidekick stuff, Huh’s got evil stuff. Gang’s around a lot and gets to charm a lot, but he doesn’t have a character arc. Not even the foreboding revenge arc; Kim warns Gang not to act with vengeance in his heart and whatnot, but it doesn’t even matter. Especially not once the film goes all out with the CGI in the third act. There’s a lot of smart, action-oriented magic on display in the set pieces in the first and second acts, but the third act decides it’s time to unlock the secrets of the universe onscreen.

    It’s way too much for such little emotional stakes, derailing the film. And there’s not time to get it back on track. Dr. Cheon goes out with a bang, which is not what it needs.

    Hopefully, they’ll figure out something for Gang to do in the next one.

    Even if they don’t, get enough of the cast back, and it won’t matter.

    Dr. Cheon’s a fun ride, but it’s (too?) determined just to be the beginning.

  • The Swiss Conspiracy (1975, Jack Arnold)

    The Swiss Conspiracy opens with a lengthy title card and voice-over explaining—broadly—the Swiss banking system. Then, the movie’s opening titles, an absurdist, almost silly montage of Swiss postcards, set to composer Klaus Doldinger’s least funky music in the film. Doldinger’s score is always fun and cool (and often quite good), even when it doesn’t precisely match the onscreen action. Swiss is a budget-conscious, European location thriller. There are picturesque car chases, there’s even choreographed fisticuffs (with able stuntmen), but there aren’t pyrotechnics.

    After the titles, we get a scene with a guy in a restaurant getting murdered. The film doesn’t spend any time contextualizing it, and when it turns out to be important later (well, qualified important), they still don’t know how to tie it in. The victim is a blackmail victim. There are five more. They’re all customers at Ray Milland’s Swiss bank. Milland and his uneasy vice president Anton Diffring bring in David Janssen to investigate.

    Janssen’s a disgraced Justice Department official who had a run-in with the Chicago mob and somehow ended up living it up in Switzerland, consulting when it suits him, otherwise content to zoom around in his Ferrari with his shirt unbuttoned past his navel. Upon arriving at the bank, Janssen gets into a parking space squabble with Senta Berger. She’ll turn out to be not just one of the blackmail victims but also Janssen’s love interest. Berger’s thirty-four. Janssen’s forty-four. He looks early sixties (except, oddly, in their canoodling scenes). So it’s not inappropriate or even weird—other than Berger being interested in brusk, condescending Janssen—but the optics are constantly askew.

    Janssen also immediately meets Chicago mobster John Saxon, who’s in town to report his own blackmailing to Diffring. And someone followed Saxon from the airport. Saxon and Janssen know each other—Janssen’s got a great line explaining it’s not a “social” relationship—and there’s immediate conflict. We meet almost the entire supporting cast before Milland gets around to explaining the blackmail scheme to Janssen. It’s an incredibly stagey approach, contrasting how director Arnold shoots it and the film in general. Swiss makes a big deal out of its locations, whether where the mountaintops are alive with the sound of music or the scenic architecture. So when it suddenly slows down to be a corporate office drama… it’s weird.

    Because Swiss is a weird movie. Janssen investigates, romances Berger, squabbles with Saxon, meets other blackmail victims John Ireland and Curt Lowens, trades barbs with local cop Inigo Gallo (never seeing the police department is a big tell on the budget’s limits), and runs from hitmen Arthur Brauss and David Hess. Oh, and then occasionally just shoots the shit with Milland. The movie got Ray Milland; they’re going to use Ray Milland.

    Then the only running subplot without Janssen is about Diffring and his too-hot-for-him-so-something-must-be-up girlfriend Elke Sommer.

    Excellent location shooting, game cast—while Berger easily gives the best performance, no one’s actually bad except Ireland. Saxon’s iffy a lot of the time, but then he’ll have this or that good moment. Ireland doesn’t have any good moments.

    Janssen plays his part like he’s in the ensemble, even if Arnold (though more the script) tries to focus in on him. Janssen’s sturdy more than capable, but he’s enthusiastic. Enthusiasm helps.

    Right up until the third act, when the film starts deflating all the tires, one lackluster reveal after another. It’s a bummer of a finish, but then there’s a quick, welcome partial save.

    For a less than ninety-minute thriller on a budget (in more ways than one), Swiss Conspiracy’s far from bad.

    And that Doldinger score is dynamite.

  • The Childe (2023, Park Hoon-jung)

    For the first half or so, The Childe ostensibly has three lead characters. The protagonist is Kang Tae-ju; he’s a half-Korean, half-Filipino illegitimate son of a Korean rich guy. Life has sucked, leading to Kang becoming an underground boxing champ (which has so shockingly little to do with the movie it’s like they forgot it was a thing), which keeps him and Mom going, but then she gets sick. She needs an operation, so he starts trying to track down Dad in Korea.

    For a while, Dad doesn’t want to be found, but just as things get worse, Dad sends his lawyer (Heo Joon-seok, who—at forty-two—is the old square in Childe) to whisk Kang to Korea. See, Dad’s sick and wants Kang to be there. For sure, they’ll pay for Mom’s surgery, and everything will be fine.

    Except Childe doesn’t start with Kang’s only boxing match; it starts with the runaway star of the film, Kim Seon-ho, taking out a room of bad guys in spectacularly bloody fashion. Kim’s been tracking Kang, adding another ominous layer, and then shows up on the plane to Korea, now directly interacting with Kang. At this point, the film starts giving Kang a lot less to do. Based on this less-is-more approach, I wonder if maybe Kang wasn’t able to keep up with Kim, so they quieted him down instead of having him outdone, charismatically speaking.

    Anyway.

    Then comes Kim Kang-woo, who’s also overtly charismatic. Kim has the most challenging part in the film because he’s playing a nepo-baby vicious gangster. He’s Kang’s half-brother, and he’s got his reasons for being happy (and not happy) they’re bringing Kang over. Kim’s simultaneously a dipshit, a monster, and comic relief (he berates his staff, basically, because they’re dumb thugs). It’s a rocky part, but Kim hangs on through all the plot twists and frankly bat shit plot developments (whenever Childe gets bored, it brings out the ultra-violence, like writer and director Park is just reminding everyone they might want to leave if they don’t like actual buckets of blood); he’s great.

    The film somewhat balances between Kang, Kim Seon-ho, and Kim Kang-woo until Go Ara comes back in. Go’s a Korean tourist whom Kang meets in the Philippines, and they get off on the wrong foot (for a South Korean film, Childe’s subtext is South Koreans are racist, materialistic bastards and should be avoided at all costs). In the second half, the film’s going to sap Kang’s agency entirely. Kim Seon-ho gets most of it, but Go will get a bit too. Then it’ll turn out to be a red herring—Go’s return to the story—and we’ll go back to Kim Seon-ho and Kim Kang-woo pretending Kang matters when really it’s just about them spitting chunks of scenery at each other.

    Solid direction from Park, some great photography from Shin Tae-ho, and a nice soundtrack (both Mowg’s score and the song selections).

    The Childe needed to figure out something to give Kang to do throughout, especially considering how little his first act turns out to matter, but otherwise, it’s a reasonably nail-biting action picture. Lots of blood, some quickly cut (or heavily implied) gore, but also lots of humor, dark and light. Kim Seon-ho’s spellbinding.

    It’s good stuff.

  • Creature from the Haunted Sea (1961, Roger Corman)

    If Creature from the Haunted Sea weren’t atrocious, it’d have to be fantastic. There’s no possible in between for the film, which is high concept, no budget.

    The film starts as a political spoof about Cuban generals fleeing the revolution with gold. They enlist the aid of gambling gangster Antony Carbone, who has a yacht. Carbone’s also got a wacky crew—Southern belle girlfriend Betsy Jones-Moreland, her goofy younger brother (Robert Bean), an undercover agent (Robert Towne), and a… guy who does animal noises (Beach Dickerson). Only Dickerson doesn’t make the noises; they’re playback. He just makes gestures.

    Again, it’d have to be good if it weren’t terrible.

    Towne narrates the film. He’s a manic jackass who’s in love with Jones-Moreland, convinced she’s just down on her luck and not Carbone’s accomplice. Carbone’s going to double-cross the Cubans, of course, with the most excellent plan anyone’s ever concocted—he’s going to pretend there’s a sea monster killing off the Cuban soldiers. Eventually, the General (Edmundo Rivera Álvarez, who keeps it together quite well) will agree to change course to avoid further attacks.

    Hence the title of the film.

    There’s one night of sea monster attacks before Carbone convinces Álvarez to change course. Haunted Sea runs just over an hour; there’s no time for skepticism, further attacks, nothing. Let’s just move right along.

    Right up until they land and—thanks to Carbone contriving a silly reason to dump the gold—hang out while going diving for the gold every couple scenes. In between, Esther Sandoval joins the film as a love interest for Towne—he’s just as disinterested in her as Jones-Moreland’s disinterested in him, wokka wokka—and Dickerson finds his soulmate in Blanquita Romero (a local woman who can also mimic animal noises). Except Bean brought Sandoval into the movie and he’s bummed he’s out a love interest, so Romero introduces him to her daughter—Sonia Noemí González—who doesn’t understand mom has taken up with this weird Americans and is just planning on buttering Bean up to sell him some coconut art.

    Once again, if it weren’t terrible, it’d have to be good. Writer Charles B. Griffith has lots and lots of ideas. All of them just happen to flop.

    Some of the problem is the acting, and some of it is the directing. And maybe some of it is the audio looping. Lots of Haunted Sea is looped. Carbone’s a little too charmless, even as a lousy heavy. Jones-Moreland might have the best acting in the film outside Puerto Rican actors, who play it straight and find the joke, but there’s no competition. Towne’s almost likably bad. Dickerson gets better once Romero shows up. And Bean… well, Bean’s just around.

    There’s some solid day-for-night from cinematographer Jacques R. Marquette and an almost successful chase scene.

    Haunted Sea definitely rallies somewhere after the first act, but it still doesn’t add up. Cute last shot, though.

  • Devil’s Partner (1960, Charles R. Rondeau)

    Devil’s Partner opens with an old man in his shack killing a goat to seal a deal with Old Scratch. The man’s arrangement is simple—his soul for two years.

    Wait, two years of what? Shh, watch the movie.

    We also never get to see any more of Old Scratch than his hand. It’s effective but given how well the movie does with the makeup—Ed Nelson plays the protagonist, the old man’s nephew, and puts on makeup for the old man part, too–it might’ve been nice to see a more full-bodied cameo.

    Anyway.

    Cut to nephew Nelson appearing in town, showing up late after his uncle sent him a plea for help. Too late, it turns out. Nelson charms the local lunch counter owner (Claire Carleton, who quickly establishes Partner’s supporting cast is going to put in the acting work) before the sheriff hauls him in. Just to go immediately back on the previous statement—sheriff Spencer Carlisle is pretty bad. Partner’s got some caricature performances, but they’re good ones, and much of the acting is caveat-free solid. But Carlisle’s terrible. He tries, but it doesn’t help.

    Carlisle will also have some exceptional leans throughout the film when he plays stoic. While they film something terrible, his ability to lean so hard on air is impressive.

    Nelson quickly becomes a trusted neighbor. When service station owner Richard Crane finds himself unable to run the station for a while, Nelson steps up and fills in, mainly as a favor to Crane’s fiancée, Jean Allison, the only person in town Nelson’s uncle liked.

    However, as someone points out, Nelson’s dirty old man uncle liked Allison because she’s a comely lass.

    We don’t get much insight into the uncle’s character—or lack thereof—but it sure seems like he was an ornery old asshole; no one in town, save Allison, seems to miss him. Not even town doctor Edgar Buchanan, Allison’s dad, who had an arrangement with the old uncle for goats’ milk to alleviate the symptoms of TB patients. It’s kind of wild how unpleasant townsfolk get to one another.

    At least before Nelson arrived; he has a way of calming everyone around him, including Allison. Crane’s inability to work and his concerns about some medical issues cause him to retract from Allison, with Nelson awkwardly finding himself filling a similar space in her life as he comforts her. Well, it’s more awkward for Allison because Nelson’s motives are never exactly clear. Occasionally, he’ll have situations where he’s got to take a more active hand, like when town-drunk Byron Foulger (who’s not good so much as delightful) betrays Nelson’s trust, which could potentially lead to trouble with the local constabulary.

    It all works out in the end, nice and wrapped up, with Nelson, Allison, and Buchanan giving sturdy and better performances throughout. Crane’s fine at the start, but his arc’s noisy and slight, and Crane’s got no volume control. There’s only so much time the script can give him; maybe it’s more at fault (a lot of his drama occurs off-screen, with Allison recounting it to others).

    Other than Crane and Carlisle, all the acting’s fine.

    Rondeau’s direction is competent, especially given the budget and limitations. He gives the actors time, but never too much time. Edward Cronjager’s black-and-white photography is gorgeous. It’s a shame Rondeau doesn’t give him anything better to shoot because Cronjager’s clearly on it here. The day for night’s not great, obviously, but when Cronjager gets to really light, he really lights.

    Devil’s Partner is a surprisingly competent little horror picture. Nelson and Allison are compelling, sometimes in unison, sometimes at odds, and Rondeau runs it lean.

  • The Magnificent Fraud (1939, Robert Florey)

    The Magnificent Fraud tells the unlikely tale of an actor on the run who just happens to be in the right place at the right time for the role of a lifetime. Akim Tamiroff’s stage actor’s enjoying a residency of sorts in San Cristobal’s hottest nightclub, one maybe owned by the president’s troubleshooter, Lloyd Nolan. We get to see Tamiroff do Cyrano, then Napoleon. The latter performance is a particular plot point because it’s where Nolan convinces his co-conspirators, Robert Warwick and Frank Reicher, they should hire Tamiroff to impersonate the president.

    See, the president—also Tamiroff—is on his deathbed, only there’s an American lawyer on the way with ten million bucks for the local economy, and the deal would die with him. President Tamiroff’s a benevolent, progressive leader who just happens to employ Chicago fixer Nolan. Tamiroff’s sure Nolan’s secretly got a heart of gold, and he plays good interference against Warwick and Reicher.

    No wonder he’s nimble at throwing in with them to ensure the money comes through. President Tamiroff’s actual chosen successor, George Zucco, is too honest.

    Complicating matters is the banker, played by Ralph Forbes. Forbes just happens to be engaged to Patricia Morison, who just happens to be Mary Boland’s niece, and Boland just happens to be an old flame of president Tamiroff’s. Surely actor Tamiroff’s not going to be able to get away with an impersonation, not when French policeman Ernest Cossart arrives—after tracking Tamiroff across the globe for seven years—ready to take him back to stand trial for murder in Paris.

    It sure would complicate things if Cossart knew both the president and the actor.

    And it sure would complicate things if ladies man Nolan set his sights on Morison, only to discover she’s probably the only girl he’d ever be happy with and, even worse, he’s the only guy she’ll ever be happy with.

    After a somewhat bumpy first act—establishing Nolan as a lousy fella to regular gal Steffi Dina (a dancer at the club) and some lazy costume choices. San Cristobal’s citizenry seems to wear whatever was left in the Paramount costume department after the Westerns got their pick. All of the credited parts are European or North Americans (ahem, very white North Americans and Europeans), and all but four are playing indigenous peoples. Surely, the film wouldn’t make it more awkward with some brown makeup on people’s bodies.

    Well, it sure would, actually. And then there’s the detail of Nolan only cheating on local girl Duna with the white girl tourists. He sure seems like a heel, especially when he sets his sights on Morison. Their romance subplot—played straight but with comedic timing—ends up unexpectedly anchoring Fraud. Tamiroff’s mesmerizing, whether he’s playing it straight, monologuing in character (in character), or doing a bit. He and Boland are delightful together. So there’s never anything to worry about when he’s around.

    So scoring with the entirely superfluous romance subplot is a plus for Fraud, as is Cossart’s subplot trying to investigate the palace and the supposedly infirm Tamiroff. See, Boland tagging along was an intentional surprise on her part; entertaining an old romantic friend wasn’t in Nolan’s scheme.

    Fraud’s a speedy eighty-ish minutes, with director Florey keeping Gilbert Gabriel and Walter Ferris’s screenplay moving at a good pace. Florey doesn’t take much time with anything (except when he and cinematographer William C. Mellor give Morison some extra attention during a moonlight mooning with Nolan), but he gives time to the entire cast. If Fraud’s got a pacing problem, it’s in Florey letting Tamiroff, Nolan, Boland, and Cossart (in particular) more time than they need to get through their deliveries. And James Smith’s cuts then lag. They probably could’ve cut out four minutes just by snipping the dead air.

    But the cast’s charming (or doing great work, in Tamiroff’s case); it evens out.

    Magnificent Fraud’s a good time with a show-stopping performance from Tamiroff.

    This post is part of the Party Like It’s 1899 Blogathon hosted by Erica of Poppity Talks Classic Film.

  • The Terror (1963, Roger Corman)

    The Terror is not camp, which is bewildering, not just because it’d be better if it were camp, but because, based on its vitals, it seems like it can’t not be camp.

    The film stars Jack Nicholson as a Napoleonic officer—he does not attempt an accent, thank goodness—who gets involved with some supernatural goings-on involving a European noble (Boris Karloff), the single servant in his giant castle (Dick Miller), a witch (Dorothy Neumann), her sidekick (Jonathan Haze), and a beautiful ghost girl (Sandra Knight). None of the people who presumably grew up in the same area speak with the same accent; Haze whispers all the time (Neumann thinks he’s unable to speak, but really he just doesn’t want her knowing his business), which is more effort than anyone else puts in. Miller plays the whole thing so delightfully straight-faced it’s like he’s doing Shakespeare. Karloff plays it like he’s doing someone a favor.

    Karloff’s pretty game throughout, of course. Despite his top-billing, he’s never the protagonist, never even—it’ll turn out by the end—gets an honest scene. The animated opening titles of Terror give away most of the set pieces, just without any context. Also, with less disintegrating flesh slime. And the bird is white. It’s very detailed—visually—so it doesn’t not look like a dove. So, for most of the credits, there’s the white dove of peace flying around disintegrating zombies and whatnot. It’s strange. And ought to be camp. But still isn’t.

    The actual bird is a falcon of some kind (maybe?). Shockingly little details out there, even now. The bird is Neumann’s familiar. Maybe? The only thing the script gets specific about, in terms of supernatural rules, is Neumann’s devil-powered, and the best revenge you can get on someone is having them commit suicide because it’ll damn their immortal soul. Also, there’s some heavenly intervention at points, and the interventionist God is a weird flex, considering the villains are trying to trick their prey into committing suicide, but when things go wrong, they get very active in it.

    I guess they figured God wasn’t going to pay close attention.

    Speaking of not paying close attention… I just realized the movie left a major subplot door open. The script—Leo Gordon and Jack Hill—does not give a hoot about making sense. Terror infamously took ages to complete; despite filming on set for all of Karloff’s material, there was second unit shooting going on for almost a year to pad it out. The film runs just under eighty minutes. They’ve got enough story for thirty, maybe forty. The rest is misdirection, exposition, and Nicholson roaming the countryside looking for Knight.

    Knight’s terrible. Like, other people are not good, but they’re amusing. It’s fun to watch Nicholson muscle his way through the part, and Miller’s incredibly compelling. And Karloff, Neumann, and Haze all have a certain amount of charm. But Knight’s terrible. It’s a bad part—she’s either a falcon woman, a vengeful ghost, a possessed innocent, or a reincarnation. She’s either Karloff or Nicholson’s property, though Neumann points out if Knight is a vengeful ghost, she belongs to Neumann, so back off, boys. Knight and Nicholson were real-life newlyweds during filming, and she’s just a couple years younger than him, but she’s also playing like Karloff is the hottest dude she’s ever seen. Knight’s sexy killer ghost is just hot for old British dude bod.

    Again, ought to be camp.

    The troubled production leads to wanting photography from John M. Nickolaus Jr. (the day for night is ambitious; unsuccessful, but ambitious), as well as Stuart O'Brien’s cutting adding an uncanny mood. O’Brien doesn’t have coverage, and they just weren’t able to get that Nicholson vs. bird effects sequence down, so Terror often comes off as vaguely existential at times. Existential or camp-ready. Nothing in between.

    Well, except the occasional gore. There are a couple very gory sequences.

    The Terror is a tedious seventy-nine minutes, with some aggravating logic jumps (Knight acts without purpose for most of the film, like they only remembered to give the killer ghost a mission in the third act). It’s never rewarding (it gets closest, thanks to Miller), but it is a singularly weird experience. And the plot twists are goofy enough they’re usually a surprise.

  • Doom Patrol (2019) s04e12 – Done Patrol

    As usual with “Doom Patrol,” I wasn’t expecting that turn of events. I knew “Patrol” had planned something conclusive for this season, but Done Patrol is a last episode, not a season finale before a refresh. They knew and didn’t play chicken with renewal, which is exemplary these days.

    The team—Diane Guerrero, Joivan Wade, Michelle Gomez, Matt Bomer (and Matthew Zuk), and Brendan Fraser (Riley Shanahan)—returns from the time stream, ready to battle Charity Cervantes and the Butts, but then a deus ex machine arrives at the same time. This season has had some weird straggler plot threads—split into two halves, with the second half delayed thanks to bad corporate decisions; given how long subplots disappear, it’s the most binge-inclined season of the show.

    Also, as usual, the team has to decompress after the big action. They’re aging, some more gracefully than others, and everyone’s got a severe sense of resignation. While April Bowlby’s committed to peacing out on her terms and Gomez is terrified to live without her, everyone else is ready for some significant character changes. Some, of course, have seen the future, while others are getting over their fears of the present.

    The show’s got six characters to resolve to be Done, and some get a little more, some a little less. “Doom Patrol”’s always been about hard realities, and the conclusion’s no different. Does it reach into the chest and pummel the heart before playing the most delicate aria on the heartstrings? Yes, yes, it does. It fulfills so much, even as it remains—to the end—all about unfulfilled lives.

    The best performance in the episode, adjusted for screen time (sort of, I guess), is Fraser. Then Gomez, then Guerrero, then Bowlby, then Bomer, then Wade. And Wade’s excellent. So there’s a lot of exquisite acting going on. Oh, and then Cervantes. Can’t forget Cervantes. She’s been another boon this season. Half-season. Speaking of boons, Madeline Zima. She’s so good, so good.

    I just discovered there’s a cameo in the episode I didn’t know about when watching, but it’s just making everything even sadder, so no spoilers. I’m too verklempt.

    Shoshana Sachi and Ezra Claytan Daniels get the writing credit for the finish; it’s a fine script covering all the show’s bases, and director Chris Manley knows how to direct these actors in these scenes. It’s the ones they’ve been working towards for four seasons. “Patrol”’s done wonders with character development on a “comic book” TV show.

    Some gorgeous music from Kevin Kiner and Clint Mansell.

    Despite the fungible aspect of comic books and comic book adaptations, it’s safe to say there will never be another “Doom Patrol,” not with this cast, not with this crew. They made something special here, and it’ll be a divine binge someday.

  • The Plague of the Zombies (1966, John Gilling)

    The Plague of the Zombies opens at its lowest point—the film involves Haitian-style voodoo (not really, the movie’s version of Haitian-style voodoo) being practiced in a Cornish village, and the high priest has a trio of Black men drumming. Throughout the film, we’ll learn about the voodoo setup (though not a lot, including what they wanted women for after a year of killing dudes), and various participants in the voodoo rituals will have day jobs. Not the drummers, though. They apparently just stay in the ritual cave, slicked up in oil, waiting for the high priest to need accompaniment.

    Otherwise, with some exceptions, usually for budget, sometimes for colonialism, and then poor Brook Williams’s acting, Plague’s a great time. After the opening voodoo sequence, the action heads to André Morell’s house, where he’s getting ready for his holiday. We’ll find out he’s a professor at a medical school in London. It’s 1860 (the film’s got a solid drinking game in “spot the anachronisms”). Williams is Morrell’s former star pupil who has set up a practice in our unnamed Cornish village. His wife, Jacqueline Pearce, happens to be Morell’s daughter’s best friend. Diane Clare plays the daughter. She’s a trooper.

    Morell gets a weird letter from Williams about all the people who have died. Now, we’ll later learn it’s twelve over twelve months, minus the film’s present action fatalities, so it never makes sense why Williams waited so long to ask someone for help. Especially when we learn he’s not so much having a medical knowledge crisis as a political one—village squire John Carson won’t back Williams in investigating any of the deaths. No autopsies.

    Clare convinces Morell they should go visit—and Morell can fish while they’re there. The lack of a fishing subplot is one of the film’s only real disappointments. I desperately wanted to watch Morell fish. He acts the heck out of Plague, always active, always evaluating, always calculating. The character’s a smart cookie, and Morell wants everyone to know how hard he works at it.

    When they get to the village, Morell and Clare immediately discover multiple red flags. Carson’s houseguests—led by Alexander Davion—intentionally disrupt a funeral procession and get away with it. Carson de facto directs the local constabulary (run by delightful Michael Ripper), so there are no consequences. Then Pearce is so out of it she barely recognizes them (the audience has the benefit of knowing the voodoo cult is after her). And Williams is….

    So, Williams’s character is drowning in the stress and liquoring his way through it. Williams’s performance is drowning in inability, and director Gilling is just making him do it all anyway. Clare’s always a strong character, but when she eventually has to play damsel, and Williams gets to play prince; definitely should’ve been reversed. Williams is so incapable he very quickly becomes sympathetic just for sticking with it. He’s a trooper in a different way than Clare, however. She has to navigate spoken and unspoken societal horrors for the lady folk; Williams just has to keep attempting and failing, over and over.

    Besides Williams, all Plague’s acting is (well, okay, low) fine or better. But the better ranges up to Morell, who’s awesome—it’s a shame he and Clare didn’t do a Victorian supernatural sleuthing franchise—and Carson, who’s almost as awesome. Clare’s pretty good. The damsel stuff doesn’t do her any favors, dramatically speaking, but she’s ahead of the curve. Pearce is fine. And then Ripper’s such low-key fun when he shows up. He and Morell play great off one another.

    Despite whatever mistakes he makes with Williams, director Gilling does a decent job. Especially considering how much of it’s bad day for night–cinematographer Arthur Grant doesn’t even try compensating, though there’s usually at least one bit of nice photography in every scene. Grant does much better indoors. The special effects have a wide quality range, but they’re always effective. Peter Bryan’s script emphasizes the characters, not the zombies; it might be a budgetary decision, but it’s also a successful one.

    Plague of the Zombies is far better than it ought to be, all things considered, with that outstanding Morell performance anchoring it and then its handful of other significant pluses.

    I wish there’d been a sequel.

    This post is part of the Hammer-Amicus Blogathon IV hosted by Barry of Cinematic Catharsis and Gill of Realweegiemidget Reviews.

  • Grantchester (2014) s08e04

    “Grantchester” toes an interesting line with religion and religiosity. It avoids it. Yes, the show’s full of religious imagery, complete with beautifully lighted sequences where Tom Brittney gives a lovely sermon and it’s never about being shitty; it’s always about how God’s actually all for the gays and so forth. Because, besides Brittney and Al Weaver, all of the characters on the show are functionally atheists. Even the extremely religious Tessa Peake-Jones. She doesn’t believe the way Brittney and Weaver believe.

    It comes out this episode big time with Brittney. Turns out he lied to Charlotte Ritchie last episode, and he’s not okay; he’s not getting better—even worse, we find out God doesn’t talk to him anymore. Now, no spoilers, but we will find out some things about how God speaks to Brittney. Good tortured expression acting from Brittney; if writer Helen Black wasn’t trying to make a certain point, however… well, it’s concerning. Or is it just going to be about the de-faithing of England. Or it’s just a story arc and not a big deal.

    God abandoning Brittney is a story arc because they need to get Brittney moping. “Grantchester” was infamously about a mopey vicar who got drunk, listened to jazz, and bedded many, many women while mooning over some shallow girl. Brittney isn’t that mopey vicar. He doesn’t have the mope down, not as an actor, not as a character. When Brittney mopes, it feels like he’s overstepping—“Grantchester”’s supposed to be an ensemble now, and his moping is getting in the way. Also, he’s not being self-destructive; he’s just moping.

    He’s not even listening to jazz.

    Good mystery this episode. One of Weaver’s halfway house residents turns up dead. Santo Tripodi plays the victim. Halfway house troublemaker Narinder Samra is a too-obvious suspect. “Grantchester” has been letting Samra simmer nicely in the background for a couple episodes, and it really pays off here–Samra’s phenomenal. See, even though the town wants the halfway house gone, when Brittney and Robson Green start investigating, they learn these men mostly just lost their way after a war. So it’s a very personal case.

    And let’s not forget Peake-Jones’s husband, Nick Brimble, is paying for the halfway house, which Weaver started after deciding he didn’t want to run his cafe (which Brimble also paid for), leaving boyfriend Oliver Dimsdale to run the cafe and be a photographer. Weaver’s got a tough arc this episode. They leave it open, too, so hopefully, we’ll get some more material for Weaver and Dimsdale before the season’s done.

    There are only two more episodes, so if it’s not a subplot by now, it won’t be a subplot.

    It also seems like Ritchie won’t figure in prominently, which is too bad. Especially since Brittney’s just moping instead.

    Anyway.

    Good supporting performances from all the suspects—David Rubin as the guy with a locked room alibi, George Brockbanks as an old collar of Green’s, Jessie Bedrossian as the one female resident in the house, who might be causing love triangles. It’s a really good mystery–definitely the best of the season, with a great finale.

    And Simone Lahbib’s still around. She joined last episode as Weaver’s maid, who now gets into competitions with Peake-Jones, which is hilarious. It gives Brimble a little more to do than usual. He’s still mostly an accessory, but he gets to keep pace with an amped-up Peake-Jones.

    Outside the ending, which just foretells more sad Brittney… it’s a stellar episode. Director Rob Evans and writer Anita Vettesse cook up a model “Grantchester.”

  • Doom Patrol (2019) s04e11 – Portal Patrol

    As penultimate episodes go, Portal Patrol is a doozy. The team has found themselves stranded in the time stream, so it’s good Joivan Wade got his Cyborg upgrades because he has to make them a little pod to survive. The current stakes are saving the world and April Bowlby (who doesn’t appear this episode), so when they discover holes in time where they might be able to regain their missing immortality, everyone heads out on assignment.

    Now, the opening titles spoil a big guest star—Timothy Dalton. Former series regular slash ostensible lead, who’s been dead for seasons at this point, and everyone’s still trying to work through the traumas he’s inflicted. Brendan Fraser (and Riley Shanahan) meet Dalton in the past when he’s on an outing with recurring guest star Mark Sheppard. Except they’re in 1948, so neither Dalton nor Sheppard knows Fraser. And Fraser’s left trying to reason with a fascinated Dalton and a drunk Sheppard. Outstanding acting from Fraser, Dalton, and Shanahan. The body work this episode’s terrific.

    Diane Guerrero and Matt Bomer (and Matthew Zuk) find themselves in the more recent past, in the Doom Patrol mansion. Guerrero’s on a combination “dying of old age” and just getting some of her PTSD resolved arc, so she’s drawn to all the old VHS tapes of her (now missing) personas. Meanwhile, Bomer and Zuk confront… Bomer and Zuk. Bomer’s current alien symbiote star child goes to find the former alien symbiote star child, and Bomer gets into an argument with it. Of course, he does.

    But Guerrero runs into Dalton, and they sit down for one last session; she’s out of time, he’s fascinated but also worried about the future knowledge.

    Speaking of future knowledge, Wade—who sends out an SOS to the time stream, which seems like how you’d bring back a now deceased special guest star, but isn’t—Wade has a heck of a little arc.

    Michelle Gomez journeys into her own past, where she briefly encounters Dalton (despite them being renowned nemeses, I’m not sure the show ever gave them a sustained scene) before running afoul of other people she doesn’t like–really good Gomez performance.

    Everyone’s really good, of course. Dalton’s so good.

    It ends up being Guerrero’s episode, with Fraser, Bomer, and Gomez sharing the B slots, then Wade getting the C. Watching Guerrero in this episode, I had the odd sensation of remembering when she wasn’t good on the show and wondering how that period plays in the greater context of the show. For the someday rewatch.

    But for now, there’s one more Patrol to go, and they’re in excellent shape for it.

    Big shoutouts to the script (credited to Chris Dingess) and then Chris Manley’s direction. Portal knows what it’s doing.

  • Grantchester (2014) s08e03

    Al Weaver directed this episode, which I think is the first time one of the show’s stars has directed an episode. Weaver’s got a little to do on screen—he’s worried about Tom Brittney, who’s moping after hitting the guy with his motorcycle, but it’s all okay. I mean, okay in the sense Brittney’s not getting charged. The guy’s dead. The season’s A plot is vicar Brittney killed some guy by total accident, but also a complicated total accident.

    Brittney feels terrible about it. And he doesn’t want to talk to Weaver or anyone else about it. He wants to talk to God about it. But he’s too busy with the case—and his friends interfering. In addition to Weaver worrying about him, there’s Kacey Ainsworth, whose concern brings Brittney and Robson Green into the mystery plot. Ainsworth takes Brittney out for a nice day at a college museum, with Green tagging along. First, there are some coeds—not at that college, because it’s the men’s college, no girls even on campus if they can help it—who are protesting in various states of undress about double standards regarding the female form in art and actuality.

    Their demonstration coincides with the famous painting everyone’s there to see going missing. Then, later on, when Bradley Hall is on the scene investigating, he discovers a body. So now it’s a murder.

    The episode then toggles between this far-reaching investigation—it’s all about how men, regardless of class, are shitty to women, but men of higher class can also be shitty to men of lower class. It’s the British way, after all.

    Meanwhile, Brittney’s getting sick of the interfering—Tessa Peake-Jones also gets some of his ire, leading to a fun moment between Peake-Jones and Weaver. It’ll all come to a head—multiple times—as he gets angrier and angrier.

    Ainsworth and Green have some detached family crisis—he’s probably losing his job, and she just got called in to see her boss, who doesn’t like her. Then Oliver Dimsdale convinces Weaver to hire a maid—Simone Lahbib—to improve conditions around the halfway house.

    It’s a balanced episode, though little kid Isaac Highams is missing when he shouldn’t be.

    And Melissa Johns gets quite a bit to do with the female protestors. The show tries to acknowledge she’s aware the cops are problematic, but then she still plays the game. “Grantchester”’s really not afraid to make their characters unlikable at times—see Brittney’s loud, angry power mope in this episode.

    Thanks to the intricate plotting and Weaver’s solid direction, the episode goes off without a hitch.

  • In the Line of Fire (1993, Wolfgang Petersen)

    In the Line of Fire is about bad use of taxpayer funds. President Jim Curley is on the campaign trail, trying to shore up support in ten states in nine days or something, and his chief of staff, Fred Thompson, doesn’t want to listen to any nonsense from the Secret Service about a viable threat. Now, Fire’s a lot of things. It’s a gentle reckoning with history as lead Clint Eastwood deconstructs the naive heroism of pre-1963 United States (very gentle, don’t dwell too much); Eastwood was one of the agents with JFK that day, and now he’s got to stop another assassin—a scenery inhaling John Malkovich—from doing a repeat.

    Malkovich is a very dangerous man (with a very particular set of skills, if you know what I mean), and there’s a relatively high collateral damage body count in Fire. Because no one listens to Eastwood. Or when they do listen to Eastwood, like lady agent Rene Russo, who has to admit even though he’s a Greatest Generation edge lord, Eastwood knows his stuff, they get in trouble for siding with him.

    The movie makes a big deal out of how Eastwood’s a burnout, one of the oldest field agents, doing counterfeit investigations to stay out of anyone important’s hair. A random tip brings him into Malkovich’s master plan, which involves lots of disguises, modeling composite, and a shocking amount of petty cash. Malkovich’s finances and how he uses them to further his goals are the most interesting part of his scheme, and they get very little attention. Though there are a handful of guest stars involved.

    See, despite “who’s that” Jim Curley as the President of the United States, Fire features a litany of familiar faces, ranging from Tobin Bell to Patrika Darbo, John Mahoney to John Heard. There are so many people in it. But not the big guy because Eastwood doesn’t want to get to know Curley. He got to know JFK, which obviously didn’t work out, but—as Eastwood tells Russo at one point—sometimes you get to know the people and decide you’re not willing to take a bullet for them. Oh, the naivety of the nineties. Miss it.

    The film’s split between Eastwood’s “I’m too old for this shit” protecting the President plot, which gives him the opportunity to bump heads with young whippersnapper boss Gary Cole and flirt with colleague Russo, Eastwood and likable but too bland sidekick Dylan McDermott (whose agent should’ve reminded him it wasn’t actually a Dirty Harry movie) trying to figure out Malkovich’s plan, and then Malkovich either executing the scheme or calling up Eastwood to chit-chat about the old days. Eastwood gets to do some good acting listening to Malkovich monologue, lips quivering, and so on, as Malkovich dregs up all Eastwood’s trauma for Russo to empathize with and literally all the other guys to mock. Not McDermott, but only because McDermott doesn’t get to play with the regular fancy supporting cast.

    McDermott’s absence is indicative of the problem with Jeff Maguire’s screenplay—there’s no balance in the second half. Eastwood starts with McDermott and then graduates to the big leagues with Russo and Cole, only to go back with McDermott and forget the rest exists. Or happened. It can play into Eastwood’s stoicism for a bit, but not forever, not with some of the plot developments. And there’s no real reintegration later on, either. Eastwood should just be joining the plot already in progress, but Maguire then needs to jumpstart that plot. They’d been idling it too long.

    Okay direction from Petersen. The film’s technical star is Anne V. Coates’s cutting. Fire’s an expertly edited action picture. Everything else goes off the rails a bit—Petersen’s direction, John Bailey’s photography, even Ennio Morricone’s score is a little much at times—but Coates does a phenomenal job every time. Even during the final when they either don’t have the budget—or the stunt people—for the showdown. Coates makes it work as much as anyone can. However, she can’t do anything to make the composites look better. And Petersen and Bailey really seem to like their composites. They have a bunch of needless composites to make it look like they had the first unit on all the locations.

    It’s a good time—even if it is all about Curley wasting taxpayer money (not just on the Secret Service expenses, but really, why do we pay politicians to campaign for re-election)—with good star performances from Eastwood, Malkovich, and Russo. It’s fairly lean goings by the finish, with Russo left with very little, but it’s a good time.

    And that Morricone score’s usually beautiful.

    This post is part of the Two Jacks Blogathon hosted by Rebecca of Taking Up Room.

  • The Book of Life (2014, Jorge R. Gutiérrez)

    The Book of Life has a very nice style once the story starts. Everything looks like it’s a miniature, like Life is a CG Rankin/Bass “Animagic.” Not quite as good, but there’s a charm to it. To the style. Not to the movie. Life’s oddly and relentlessly charmless.

    It begins with the first bookend device: a group of behavior disorder kids arrive late for the school trip to the museum. They bully the first tour guide, but then a smoking hot lady tour guide winks at them the right way, and they’re all entranced. Life’s not going to get better about objectification of women. It’s the plot, actually.

    Christina Applegate voices the tour guide. Why? No reason. She’s not good. She doesn’t have any personality. There’s not a deep “Married With Children” cut involving her character. There is a deep Labyrinth cut, so maybe someone else dropped out or turned them down. Doesn’t matter. The bookending device is just so the behavior disorder kids can mouth off. They range in age from toddler to tween, and their character design ranges from seventies theatrical Charlie Brown doofus villains to Baby Huey in drag. Also, they’re a drag.

    Then Applegate starts reading to them from the Book of Life, mentioning far more interesting stories than the one we’ll watch. I foolishly thought it would be an anthology of Mexican folk tales. Instead, it’s all about how Zoe Saldana needs to marry Diego Luna or Channing Tatum so Ron Perlman can get a job transfer.

    Perlman’s Xibalba, lord of the Land of the Forgotten. His lady love is La Muerte, the lord of the Land of the Remembered. Kate del Castillo voices her. Del Castillo de facto gives the second-best performance in the film. Luna’s a great lead. When he’s talking, you forget what you’re watching and think it might actually be all right. Then Saldana shows up, and that all right gets qualified. Then Tatum shows up, and that all right becomes impossible. Tatum isn’t even particularly bad—Saldana’s worse—but he’s charmless. His character is the town hero; he’s only the town hero because he has a magic tchotchke. It makes him invincible. When it looks like Saldana is going to marry Luna because of true love and all that jazz, Tatum says he’ll abandon the town and stop protecting it unless she marries him.

    Luna’s the hero of the movie, but Tatum’s a good guy. Everyone trading Saldana is a good guy. She may spout off about her independence, but she’ll always immediately relinquish it. Director Gutiérrez and co-writer Doug Langdale don’t write a character capable of withstanding a gentle breeze. They’re all so thin.

    Life’s got some original songs. Luna’s okay at them, but not any good. Then again, the songs aren’t good; some are better than others. All of them, much like the film itself, are tedious.

    Gutiérrez’s direction peaks at middling. There are some rather poorly directed sequences; Gutiérrez’s always in a hurry like he’s convinced there’s nothing worth seeing anywhere in the film, which is funny because the production design is far more compelling than the story. Ahren Shaw’s editing doesn’t help things.

    Book of Life seems like Luna’s charm will somehow carry it, but then it doesn’t. By the third act, Luna can’t hold it up anymore, not with everyone else pounding down on it.

    Life’s a long ninety-five minutes.

  • The Scarlet Letter (1934, Robert G. Vignola)

    The Scarlet Letter’s opening title card explains while the Puritan customs might be atrocious to modern eyes, “they were a necessity of the times and helped shape the destiny of a nation.” Not on board with the former, but it’s definitely accurate for the latter. Especially since this version of Letter is about a white man avoiding taking any responsibility for himself until the last possible moment and being a martyr. However, given the third act positions Hardie Albright’s reverend as the protagonist—how could it be about anyone but him, after all, certainly not the woman he canoodled with (Colleen Moore) or their child, born out of wedlock (Cora Sue Collins).

    But then the first couple acts were basically all about Henry B. Walthall coming back after two years of being presumed dead to find his wife, Moore, a recent mother. Walthall shows up with a Native American guide (Iron Eyes Cody, but don’t think it’s woke; he was Italian and changed his name) and quickly discovers Moore’s story. It’s the first or second thing everyone’s talking about. They’re going to watch Moore get her scarlet letter while holding her newborn as everyone—including Albright—begs her to reveal the father’s identity. Walthall watches, now significantly invested himself, but Moore refuses. She’s going to carry the burden for both of them.

    Moore has subsequent scenes with Albright—confirming he’s the daddy—and Walthall, who reveals his return to life to Moore and pledges vengeance against this unknown baby daddy. He makes her promise not to tell anyone he’s really her husband (he’s taken on a silly name new identity).

    Jump ahead five years, and now the baby is Collins, who’s just the age she’s starting to notice the other kids are shitty to her. Meanwhile, the other adults are shitty to Moore. Much of the second act consists of the village ladies shit-talking her, which may pass Bechdel at times (though their God is definitely a dude, so maybe not). That material’s no good. What’s good is Walthall.

    Despite Cody—nope, sorry, despite Espera DeCorti—apparently sticking with Walthall the entire time, we don’t get to see him again until the end of the movie for the big finale. He’s just a face in the crowd. Now, Letter’s very low budget—the production design is an incredible mishmash of styles and time periods—so they likely just filmed their crowd scenes together. But still. I spent most of the movie just waiting for the awful way DeCorti would return.

    Anyway.

    Walthall.

    Walthall has become the beloved town doctor and Albright’s best friend. He’s in Moore’s orbit because Moore is a saint who cares for the sick women who’d previously been cursing her. Moore’s got no character arc. She exists to serve Walthall or Albright, but most of her scenes are with Collins for a while, and very little comes from them. Even when Moore’s fighting the town bullies—intellectually—the movie’s careful never to lionize her. Scarlet Letter is a bewildering story to try to tell under the new-at-the-time Hayes Code, and the result is about what one would expect.

    Though not Walthall’s Machiavellian plan to ferret out his cuckolder and ruin the man’s life. If he’s got to kill some kids along the way….

    Walthall gives a malevolent, deeply disturbing, cruel performance. He’s awesome.

    Albright’s not good. He’s also not sympathetic. He needed to be one of them.

    Moore’s pretty good, considering, but rarely unqualified. It’s a poorly written part, and director Vignola has no time (or ability) for directing actors.

    So then the better performances come from the film’s only running subplot—buddies Alan Hale and William Kent. Hale’s the handyman; Kent’s a… something or other. Doesn’t matter. Kent’s courting Virginia Howell, who’s Moore’s primary detractor, and Albright and Walthall’s landlady, except Kent’s a nebbish and Hale’s a whole lot of man. So Hale and Kent have this series of comedy sequences involving it. Hale’s really good. Kent’s funny. Howell’s a lot better in those parts than when she’s slinging shit at Moore.

    Technically, nothing stands out. Leonard Fields and David Silverstein’s script does have some occasionally impressive olde time dialogue—usually for Hale and Kent—where they get to flex for entertainment purposes and not so Moore can wax on about how hard it must be for someone else to have to know she’s in this position and occasionally see her on the street.

    But, given the numerous, significant constraints, it could’ve been a whole lot worse. And the scene where Collins tells someone on their planet, Moore’s “A” might be a letter, but on her planet, it stands for “Mommy’s the Best,” is pretty awesome and gives a peek into a better version of the film.