Animation Defenestration: The one that lost to Claymation Pinocchio

 

 

Title: Puss In Boots: The Last Wish aka Puss In Boots 2

What Year?: 2022

Classification: Weird Sequel

Rating: That’s Good! (4/4)

 

As I write this, I have been recovering from a shock: Everything Everywhere All At Once, a film I went out of the way to review while it was in theaters, actually swept the Oscars. The obvious joke is that I usually deal with the opposite of “best” pictures, which is certainly true but for far more complicated reasons. In fact, I do have one area of interest that has regularly brought me within ranting distance of the annual awards show, and that is the animation category. In any given year, I have usually seen most if not all of the films up for the award, so of course, I am almost always able to say that the “winner” is the wrong choice. That will serve as an intersecting arc to a movie I have been trying not to review, despite already watching it into the ground. Because I have no better plan, I’m surrendering and reviewing Puss In Boots: The Last Wish. And yeah, it’s great.

Our story begins with narration of a star falling to Earth, bearing a single wish for anyone who can reach it. We then catch up with Puss In Boots, who gets himself squished when a party in his own honor turns into a fight with a Pan’s Labyrinth pseudo-Celtic giant. It turns out that this doesn’t mean any more that going to the penalty box, as every cat in this universe really does have 9 lives. However, it turns out that his latest death is Number 8. He is still unphased, until he gets his tail handed to him by a mysterious anthropomorphic wolf. He goes into hiding in the house of a crazy cat lady, where he meets an aspiring therapy dog. His past catches up with him when he crosses paths with Goldilocks and the Three Bears and his old flame Kitty Softpaws. It turns out that a race is on to reach the wishing star, with the aid of an ever-changing magical map, and the leading contender is the completely malevolent grown-up Jack Horner. Of course, the real story is the journey as the cats and the dog team up to overcome the obstacles in their path. But can Puss hold his own when the actual Grim Reaper catches up with him?

Puss In Boots: The Last Wish was a 2022 CGI animated film from Dreamworks (see AntZ), developed as the 6^th film in the Shrek franchise and a sequel to the 2011 spinoff film Puss In Boots. The production was reportedly 11 years in development. Antonio Banderas returned as Puss, with Selma Hayek Pinault as Kitty, the only other recurring character from the preceding film. Other cast included Harvey Guillen as Perrito, Florence Pugh of Midsommar as Goldilocks, and Brazillian-born actor/ filmmaker Wagner Moura as the Wolf/ Death. The film was released in late 2022, with reportedly pessimistic expectations. It went on to earn over $470 million worldwide, and many favorable reviews from both “mainstream” and animation/ genre critics. In 2023, it lost to Guillermo Del Toro’s Pinocchio for best animated film. The film is currently available for streaming on Peacock.

For my experiences, beyond my decade-long chain rant about how a prestigious and competitive award turned into Not Even The Best Disney Movie (see also Muck Over Laika), what made this one stand out is that it was under my radar. To me, the “event” for animation in 2022 was The Bad Guys (which I have been meaning to get to), followed by Pinocchio and perhaps League of Super Pets. At the end of the year, I felt secure that I had seen or at least heard about everything on the field, until I somewhat belatedly saw that the usual channels were blowing up with praise for a Shrek sequel. Inevitably, I worked it in, and was if anything a little underwhelmed. What struck me, before and after watching it, was that these were not just praises for the animation, but deeply felt emotional responses. I gave it another try with a very close friend who had just lost a family member. That left me convinced that this was, if not the best cartoon of the year, a very effective and resonant one.

Moving forward, what’s really worth saying is that this movie starts doing what Dreamworks already had down with Shrek 1 and 2. (Yes, that sequel was better, too.) That shows especially the music, which I have often ended up regretfully skipping in my more recent reviews. Heitor Pereira, who apparently transitioned from live-action to mid-tier animation scores back in the mid-2000s, takes over for John Powell and Harold Gregson-Williams (see my heroic music countdown), and the resulting feel is in line with my overall impression of the film: Nothing new, but a sincere tribute that can sometimes improve on its source material. The improvement part shows most in the utterly insane cast of supporting characters, which I obviously truncated above. There’s an ample supply of one-liners and gags, especially from Goldilocks, Horner (I know, John Mulaney) and the Wolf. To me, what’s really noteworthy is that the film finally evolves the franchise beyond “meta” humor for its own sake. The throw-away gags and one-note characters have been replaced with contextualized dialogue and fully developed genre satire. The difference shows the most in the quite brief interactions between the villain and the Jimminy Cricket analogue, which skewers any number of tropes without ever depending on the viewer to know a reference on sight.

That really leaves the story, and this is where I find certain issues. For the most part, this stays in established “safe” territory, to a degree that has been overlooked or downplayed by reviewers. As a rule, plot points and morals are routine and telegraphed well in advance. The real “problem” is that the exceptions are more like loose ends. This is a minor issue with the subplot of the Wolf and the almost unavoidable spoilers, which in the proverbial light of day isn’t that big a part of the story. It’s a major issue with the map, which to me never gets developed beyond an exposition generator. The deceptive oversight is that few if any stories using the “treasure map” device try to explain where it came from (not to mention why its creator or any previous owners didn’t go back for the treasure already). What is genuinely missing is some idea of what the “map” is. In many ways, it acts like an extension of the Wishing Star itself, which could have been highly intriguing with or without further development. But the lack of development leaves a further gap in what is a significant theme, that the Star is quite actively discouraging and resisting those who are looking for it. If this feels like a minor gripe about a good film, it is by all means because it is. Still, overanalysis is what I do (see Planet Of Dinosaurs), and I maintain that it is the clearest indicator where films can do better.

Now for the “one scene”, this is a film that could be all honorable mentions, with the nod going to Puss’s first encounter with the Wolf. (Yes, his escape route is exactly what it looks like…) What gets on my good side are the scenes with Goldilocks and her adopted bear family, who I am prepared to defend as the most well-developed and entertaining of the movie’s rogues’ gallery. Out of this wealth of material, the one I came back to is their capture of the technically unnamed Perrito. At this point, the bears and the orphan are bored and arguing whether taking the hostage will get them the map back. That becomes an exchange of insults between Goldilocks and the “Baby” Bear, which the father ursine probably doesn’t help by confirming the one thing his biological offspring takes offense at. By his usual unwarranted optimism, the dog is amused enough to join in. Yet, it becomes clear that he has rightly judged that these rogues are fundamentally different from the antagonists we already know would just kill him. By the time he has gotten through a censored string of insults, the bears seem bemused enough to let him go. He then gives an honest appraisal of the family that even Goldi takes him seriously. As Mother Bear speaks up for him, the bears look away for just a moment. Then we get my absolute favorite line, “No crimebacks!”

In closing, I come back to my venting about the Oscars. After years of short cuts and institutional rot, this was finally a case of a difficult decision. Pinocchio was at least a very well-animated film, and we were at least 10 years overdue for recognition of the stop-motion/ Claymation category. By comparison, the present film was a checklist of the things that make a “losing” film: It was “mainstream”, it was a sequel (the one offense that gets even Disney films mulched), and ultimately, it was popular. It can at least be said that it got recognition, which finally means something again. I, for one, can happily recommend it to anyone who has somehow avoided it. That’s enough to call it a day.

Miniature Giants: Campus Cuties!

 

As I write this, I'm at a watershed moment with my Marx figure collecting: I have been covering things on my godforsaken Youtube channel before I posted about them on this godforsaken blog. (Of course, I'm also finally doing another installment of this feature in the same month as the last one.) One thing that came up recently is that I did a video in connection with the Star Wars scale Japanese soldiers where I discussed the general question of the rarest Marx figures. In the course of that video, I finally showed off something that was backlogged a long time, a representative set of Marx Campus Cutie figures. Here are 2 of them in full... um... glory?

"I'm like any college student... I go to class in the morning, show up for work at noon and pick up my kids at night."

For the usual backstory, the Campus Cuties were perhaps the most notorious line released by Marx in the 1960s if not their entire history. (See Marx Wild West for most of the details.) Eight of these figures were released in 1964, the second year of production for Marx 6-inch figures. The concept was exactly as advertised, a lineup of perky, perhaps flirty young ladies in detailed outfits that, as many observers noted, had little if anything to do with academic pursuits. In further hindsight, these conspicuously failed to anticipate to anticipate either the fashion or the politics of the rest of the decade, though there were several sculpts that showed athletics and outdoor activities. (I will get to that...) The exact reasoning behind the line remains debatable. It did roughly coincided with efforts by Marx to expend into toys for girls, as evidenced by their dollhouse figures. It also would have offered an opening for sales to teenage and adult males. The latter scenario would further account for an apparent decision to market them as models for painting. As a result, a large percentage of the specimens in circulation have been hand-painted, as seen here. This particular set was sold to me by a seller who claimed or implied to have painted the figures. I bought it primarily for the pair shown immediately above, labeled Shopping Anyone? and Stormy Weather. Here's one more pic.

"This is lame, let's go to Woolworth's..."

Now, the unavoidable joke here is that, even given the spectacularly dated clothes and assumed gender roles, these look anything but youthful. In considering a place for these in my emerging Marx-based universe, I immediately associated the one on the right with a character who was supposed to be over 40. The other one at least looks like she could be college-aged, but she looks more like a senior with her own apartment than a romping freshman. Then there is the paint. It will be evident from the pics so far that the work on these two is pretty good in both quality and current condition. The third, on the other hand, was different.

This one is marked On The Beach, which for the easy gag was indeed the title of the "classic" post-apocalyptic film released in 1959. The first thing to note about this one is that the outfit is in fact a bathing suit typical for the 1950s and/or early '60s. If anything, the sculpt actually looks more risque without factoring that in. As far as the paint, this was done well enough that the straps on the suit are neatly painted. The head is not so good, I'm sure in part because of damage to the hair. The fundamental problem is the pose and posture. To be blunt, she looks either morbidly depressed or actually stoned. (Heck, maybe she is in On The Beach...) And here's a closeup pic. The paint isn't good, but I'm not satisfied it could have gone this bad if there wasn't already a problem.

And here's closeups for the other two.

"Well, why can't `Campus Cuties' include adjunct faculty?"

Now, there is a little more backstory that led to this post. The original eight Cuties were produced in significant numbers, and remain available as reissues and recasts. Fortunately, these are easy to tell apart, originals being a pink flesh tone and reissues tending toward white, grey or tan, and as often happens with Marx figures, there isn't that big a price difference to begin with. The values are somewhat above average, from about $10 for likely reissues to $50 or so for full sets. However, a second series was made in evidently limited numbers, without any report of reissue. These were a vast improvement in both aesthetics and relevance, complete with jeans, trendy jackets and accessories, and one pair of glasses between the lot of them. Alas, they are also so scarce that there is not a frame of reference for their value. By comparison, the astonishingly expensive Marvel figures (which I barely got one of) are at least available in sufficient numbers to track their prices at any given time. The second-wave Cuties, on the other hand, are simply a Wall of Nothing. Nobody is buying them, because nobody is selling them, because in all likelihood, nobody who would sell through normal channels has them. The only things comparable are a few items that I have called Marx's equivalent of the rocket-firing Boba Fett, prototypes like the Superman figure that never saw the light of day and novelties like the nude figure that were never intended to. This was the state of affairs for months, and then years, until about a month ago, I found a seller offering two sets of these damn things.

Needless to say, I was very interested and wildly incapable of meeting the lowest minimum bid for the listings, a partial painted set and a full set that was in pristine condition. My suspicion was that these were not going to sell for more than the $30-40 per figure that came out of subdividing the minimum bids, which I knew to be typical for Marvel figures (and maybe originals of the Universal Monsters line). Given the obscurity of the items compared to the (fair!) price, it seemed conceivable they might not sell at all. I was optimistic enough that I reached out privately to discuss buying one individually or at least reposting the seller's absolutely beautiful photos here. As it turned out, the painted set sold within the range I suspected, a fact I reported in my most recent video. When I reviewed the listings, however, I discovered that the complete set had gone for much more than the minimum bid, as in over $60 per figure with shipping factored in. That, of course, is still not exceptional compared to a Blue Snaggletooth. Alas, while I did successfully correspond with the seller, I received no reply regarding permission to reuse images, so I have nothing to show for it here but the tale.

So, I have one more chapter done in my adventures in Marx figure collecting. All in all, these are an essential part of any Marx collection. The only caution in order is that it's best not to go overboard, which is why I haven't gone further than this. And I couldn't avoid an extra pic with the Truckstop Queen (and Connie)...

"Let me get this straight, women's jeans were invented in 1934???"

That's all for now, more to come!

Fiction: The Space Guys Adventure, Part 20!

 It's the last day of my off-week, and I couldn't decide on what to do, so of course, it's another installment of the Space Guys, and this time, something actually happens. As usual, the table of contents is at the end.

The approach to Uranus was the closest of the voyage since the Janus had left Mars. It was only when the gaseous giant’s buzzsaw rings filled the viewports from top to bottom that the orb began to drift to the starboard side. “We will be making a small maneuver as we pass the giant,” the captain announced. “It will be necessary to fire the primary engines several times over a total of four hours. You will have 12 to secure your possessions and evacuate the life support ring.”

It was also announced that the ship would receive a special broadcast from Earth, described as “live”. Yuri had explained what that really meant. “What the Martians and spacers will be used to are transmissions that are recorded, compressed and played back,” he said. “We do this to reduce the risk of interruption by static and outages. For this mission, our speed is also a concern. Going perfectly straight, the distance we travel in one hour is enough to add almost 1.5 seconds to the time it takes for a transmission to reach us. That is more than enough to put an uncompressed signal out of sync. But while we are rounding the planet, we will be almost stationary relative to Earth. It’s just the right window for a live transmission… live, that is, except for the time it takes to reach us.”

Alek insisted on holding a dinner in her own quarters while they listened to the broadcast. She also invited Jax, Jackie and Sandra. Sandra came with Vasily, while Jax brought Dr. Cahill. The table was set with flares as candles. Tik Tok and Chopper brought plates of rehydrated vegetables, while Scarecrow and the Patchwork Girl prepared soy steaks in the kitchenette. Vasily sat in almost complete silence, while Dr. Cahill chatted happily “I’ve been making regular reports on the crew’s health, mental and physical,” she said. “I’m really not supposed to say so, but we’ve performed far beyond expectations. There were very serious concerns that a crew this size would be unable to function over such a long voyage…”

That finally brought a sullen remark from Vasily. “If this is good,” he said, “what in holle were they thinking would be bad?”

“There were concerns about whether the crew would be able to adhere to the diet and exercise regime,” Dr. Cahill said matter-of-factly. “Some believed there would be… political problems. There were even proposed plans to restore control if a disorder broke out. I advised that it was better for the morale of the crew not to develop them further.”

“Why did they think there would be a problem?” Alek said. “We all get along so well…”

The dinner went on. The transmission began, shown on the video screens around Alek’s cabin and lab. It was a concert in Bonn, held in Deutschland’s majestic national concert hall. It proved to be a performance of Holst’s Planets, beginning with Mars. Alek and Dr. Cahill were puzzled when a tenor vocalist began to sing during the first interlude. Jax and Jason squirmed in discomfort. Anastasia and Vasily were merely bemused. It was a hymn of the sending forth of armies, to be followed by the release of the holy doves that would be the sign of peace. The chorus implored the elder god for strength, victory, and failing all else, that at least a few of their valiant warriors would live to return.

“Okay, so, a composer on Mars tried putting words to some of the music, like they were hymns to the Old Gods,” Jason said. “We tried not to make it a big deal…”

The music continued, doubling back to Mercury and Venus, who each received a few lines of praise. Then came Jupiter, whose entire middle movement became a hymn to the lord of Olympus: “Jove, king of highest heaven, to you we give the utmost praise. You send the rain on just and unjust, set the course of Sun and Moon. You are the protector of the stranger, the avenger of all wrongs. Light our way with justice and truth…”

By then, the Martians were all in tears. Alek looked around and laughed. “Sorry, sorry,” she said. “It is just, Jupiter is Zeus, no? I know the stories about him. Sometimes, he is funny, but he is not no never a good god.”

“We know,” Jason said, wiping away his own tears. “Those are, well, the stories. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t stand for what’s good.”

It was Jax who chimed in. “Jupiter is simple,” he said. “He’s more powerful than mortals, but never acts like he’s better than us. When he does good, he helps everyone. When he does punish anyone, it’s for breaking their word or just acting like they’re higher than the rest. That's something.”

“But there is no Zeus,” Alek said. “Olympus is a mountain. Jupiter is just a ball of gas. The Greeks already knew that. So why tell the stories?”

Jason only frowned at that. “She is teasing you,” Anastasia finally said. “I like the stories. They’re good stories. That’s enough.”

They remained in a good mood as the concert continued, though the music for Saturn and Uranus was as gloomy as the grim gods. Alek became ever more elated, until Jason began to wonder if she had found a way to synthesize alcohol. Then, just as unaccountably, she burst into tears. She rose to her feet, not wobbly but stiff. When Jason moved to follow her, she waved him back. “Wait, wait,” she said. “I am not… no… feeling so… not good.” That was when Jason caught her as she pitched forward. One more word came from her lips: “Argon.”

That brought Vasily to his feet. He looked up and around. In every direction, propellant tanks lined the nacelle. “Is there anything flammable in these?” he drawled.

Donald snorted. “You know chemistry,” he said. “Argon is so non-reactive, we use it in the fire extinguishers.”

“Good,” the Russian said. He picked up a flare and touched it to a page from one of Alek’s notebooks. With significant coaxing, the paper began to smolder. He slowly lowered the sheet.  60 centimeters from the floor, the flame fizzled and went out.

“Alek figured it out when she was about to pass out,” Jax mused. “Figures. She’s the smallest of us. Lana, will she be all right?”

“Certainly, if we get her oxygen or get her out of here,” Dr. Cahill said. “But there’s enough propellant gas to flood the life support ring. We have to find the leak.”

“It’s not that simple,” Donald said. All eyes turned toward him. “The tanks are self-sealing. It would take small arms fire to breach one. A leak this bad would have to come from one of the lines to the engines. If the fuel isn’t getting through, the simplest explanation is that a thruster is out of the line. If the problem is bad enough, firing one thruster might short the whole nacelle. We have to find out, or we can’t complete the voyage or go home.”

“Then how do we fix it?” Jason asked, not really doubting the answer.

“We go outside, farmboy,” a voice said. He did not recognize the voice, yet he was not surprised to see Moxon in the doorway, already in his pressure suit.

By the time Jason had suited up, Dr. Cahill had brought Alek a breathing mask. When consciousness returned, she became giddy all over again. “Check the diagnostic panel,” she said immediately. “It will show you where short is.”

Donald was in fact doing just that. “It’s in the port thruster,” he said, pointing to the left dot of the five that formed the engine assembly. “I could fix it myself. I just need my pod from engineering.”

“There isn’t time,” Jason said. He knew he could not give a reason why, but no one challenged him.

“He’s right,” Moxon said. He had already opened the airlock in the floor. “If we don’t fix this, we could lose the ship.” He moved to close the hatch as he climbed down. When Jason followed, he simply continued his own descent without comment. Jason met Alek’s gaze before he closed the hatch.

 

The airlock opened in the middle of the nacelle. The pair emerged tethered against the outward pull of centrifugal pseudogravity. Moxon went left. Jason went right without comment. Between them, a projection ran the length of the nacelle. On very close examination, the edge glowed a dull red. Jason raised his head. Directly ahead was the tail of the ship, seemingly spinning of its own accord. If he twisted his neck, he could see Uranus, circling like the sun in time lapse. He shook his head and continued to crawl, his eyes on the matte white paint of the hull.

By the time Jason reached the end of the nacelle, Moxon was already twisting a wheel that controlled flow to the mixing tank. Jason moved on to the thruster. It was a meter and a half wide, and looked like the bottom half of a nesting doll. He shown a light on the nozzle. There were 6 concentric rings all told. He examined them for any damage or fault. There was nothing to see, nor had there been any reason to think he could see the cause of the problem. For the first time, Moxon spoke over the channel: “You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you, farm boy?”

Moxon took out a current meter, consisting of a simple probe, a gauge and a well-insulated handle. Jason saw that the gauge was illustrated with an early version of Sparky. The lowest was the squirrel smiling. The successive measures went from him grimacing in surprise, to sparks between his tufted ears, to his ears smoldering and eyes replaced with X’s. He touched the outermost ring, and the needle stayed at the lowest level. He tested the next ring, and another, with the same result. When he applied the probe to the fourth ring, however, the needle went straight to the highest level and then dropped back. Jason saw that the tip of the probe had melted.

Reaching in carefully, Jason and Moxon undid two of the bots that held the assembly in place. The rings came free, only to be halted by tethering filaments, exposing the circuits, sensors and valves beneath. Now, they could see with their own eyes a blocked valve and its cause, an overloaded insulator that had run like wax across the assembly. That was when the hull resonated with an impact that jolted Jason by sound alone. He looked up and beheld an object like a pill with tiny arms attached. It was Donald in his pod, anchored by a filament launched from a cluster of implements between the arms. Anastasia followed in a second pod, with a tapered shape and faceted surface that made Jason think of a geodesic peanut. She carried a replacement for the ring. “Thanks,” Donald said. “You found out what we could have told you from engineering. Now let’s see if you can actually help.

The repairs took 10 minutes. Jason and Moxon did help enough that it probably took no longer than it would have without them. “There’s going to be more sensor damage, but Alek already has Chopper working on that,” Donald said. “Get back inside.”

Jason made his way back along the handholds that lined the module. Now he could see the front of the ship, from the ovoid science module to the Pegasus moored at the front, and beyond it, the giant planet and its vertical ring. He looked to one side, and froze. Within his reach was a line that had cut across the central projection. For a moment, he was unsure if it was Moxon’s line or his own. A quick check confirmed that his own remained on the same side. He took a closer look, and saw that some combination of heat and friction had cut halfway through the line. He told himself that it would be something to tell the officer when they were both safely inside. Suddenly, the line began to twist and then grow taut. The worn section tore, until it was parted by three-fourths. He grabbed the line and reeled it in, until he gripped the intact length. When he finally looked up, he beheld Moxon reeling himself in, methodical rather than desperate.

 

There was time to finish their dinner before the evacuation bell sounded. Moxon joined them, in evidently good humor. Jason stared pensively at nothing in particular. When Alek tried to draw him out, they both knew he merely humored her. Anastasia finally carried Donald out. Alek followed, with one backward glance. That left Jason alone with Moxon.

Table of contents

Part 1. The demo!

Part 2. The villain!

Part 3. The world-building!

Part 4. The romance!

Part 5. The killer robot!

Part 6: The shuttle ride!

Part 7: Alternate universe pop culture!

Part 8: The launch!

Part 9: The girl talk!

Part 10: The domestic disturbance!!!

Part 11: The Space Nazis!!!

Part 12: The inevitable geography lesson!

Part 13: The wedding!!!

Part 14:  The spicy chapter!

Part 15: The bad guy backstory!

Part 16: The Dinner!

Part 17: The alternate history!

Part 18: The weapons exposition!

Part 19: The alternate history Captain America!

Adaptation Insanity: The one where the scariest thing is Dan Aykroyd

 

 

Title: Twilight Zone The Movie

What Year?: 1983

Classification: Irreproducible Oddity

Rating: Ow, My Brain!!! (Unrated/ NR)

 

As I write this, I’ve been continuing to think over what I want to do with my blog and writing in general. In the process, I recently found myself with a string of movies that could all have suited my purposes. These included a movie I had thought about for a very long time, which I decided was enough to kick off a feature I had considered before as a spinoff to my Super Movies feature. This will be a look at movies based on other properties, which as a further twist will focus on things besides books and comics. Our first entry for consideration will be a film so notorious it could literally be its own category. I present Twilight Zone: The Movie, and yeah, I know all about the backstory.

Our story begins with a driver and a friendly hitchhiker singing TV themes and talking about a certain famous series, until the encounter turns lethal. We then see an unfolding anthology that starts with a middle-aged racist who finds himself transported back in time as the minorities he hates. We then meet the denizens of a retirement home who regain their youth with a game of kick the can, only to discover a price that won’t be a clear downside. Things are looking up as we move on to a school teacher who is invited home by a quirky little boy who proves to be a godlike superhuman with a captive “family”. Finally, we meet a fussy intellectual on a plane who sees a mysterious creature sabotaging the engines, but can’t convince anyone else of the threat. It’s all kinds of pretty good, I guess- but can anything be scarier than Dan Aykroyd?

The Twilight Zone: The Movie was a 1983 dark fantasy/ horror anthology film released by Warner Bros, based on the TV series created by the late Rod Serling. The film was produced by John Landis (An American Werewolf In London) and Steven Spielberg (Duel, ET), who directed the first two segments, “Time Out” and “Kick The Can”. Additional segments based on the original TZ episodes “It’s A Good Life” and “Nightmare At 20,000 Feet” were directed by Joe Dante (InnerSpace, Gremlins 2) and George Miller respectively. Frequent TZ contributor Richard Matheson (see… Jaws 3?) received writing credits for 3 out of 4 sequences. The soundtrack was scored by Jerry Goldsmith (see Link, Deep Rising, etc, etc, etc), whose early work included the TZ episode “The Invaders”. The cast included Vic Morrow (see Message From Space... wait, my first review?), Kathleen Quinlan and John Lithgow (Adventures Of Buckaroo Banzai), with Burgess Meredith (Batman, The Manitou) as the narrator and Dan Aykroyd as the Hitchhiker/ Monster in a prologue sequence. The film became notorious for an accident that resulted in the deaths of Morrow and two child extras. It was a moderate commercial success, earning $42 million against a $10M budget, but subsequently suffered from controversy and limited availability on home video. Among series fans and genre critics, it was poorly received except for Dante’s segment. As of early 2023, it is available for digital purchase and rental.

For my experiences, I will say right off the bat that my usual format and length was out the window from the start. As far as the present film, what really stands out in hindsight is that I literally had no awareness of it until at least the middling 1990s, and still didn't watch it until around 2017. The astonishing part of that is that I was an absolute TZ junkie virtually from the time I had regular access to television at all. I would watch the original series, I would watch the ‘80s revival, I would read the tie-in books, I would narrate episodes to innocent bystanders. All of which is just to say, for me to have known nothing about this film means somebody really screwed up. The most obvious reasons, I must also say at the outset, are ones I won’t go into. I have reviewed movies with body counts before (see Brainstorm, which still wasn’t as uncomfortable as Hardware), and the only thing that really works is to keep it out of the picture. In those terms, my diagnosis is that this was always on track to be sleek, expensive and completely forgettable, which is not what it deserves.

Moving forward, I really couldn’t avoid a paragraph on the opening segment(s). The prologue is, if anything, underrated, especially in light of Dan Aykroyd’s performance. At face value, the role isn’t even against type, yet the actor becomes subtly unsettling well before the end, enough to ponder what might have been if he had gone further into roles outside comedy. We then get the embarrassingly good modernization of the TZ opening, with Meredith swinging for the fences. Finally, we get to Morrow’s segment, which I feel I am committing heresy by endorsing probably the second strongest in the entire movie. We get a strong set-up through the introduction to a very unsympathetic character who (in arguable contrast to the antiheroes of “Judgment Night” or “Death’s Head Revisited”) is never so monstrous that he can’t be identified with people a viewer might meet. What follows is a reasonably satisfying series of vignettes that never needed any other ending than its chilling final sequence. The “problem” is that this never quite reaches the level of true irony, unless you count the jerk’s surprisingly plausible ability to stay alive as long as he does, and there really isn’t a lot that could have been done differently. To me, the one good option would be to put him through the slights and resentment even “model” minorities in “modern” society face, perhaps by a “body swap” with the individual he's really mad at, but then, that would require political subtlety in an ‘80s movie.

The other segment I had to write up on its own is “It’s A Good Life”, based on both the TZ episode and the short story by Jerome Bixby. This is the one segment that is at least as good as it’s usually made out to be. I would go so far as to make favorable comparisons to the original series episode (one of the ones I can remember retelling). The most intriguing part is that this “remake” is even bolder than The Thing in reconceiving the source material as well as its “classic” adaptation. (The short story is still far more horrific…) Here, the child god-demon is content to hold power over a single house, resulting in a claustrophobic focus and significant ambiguities that certainly “work”. It’s never clear if this version of the character is less powerful, less ambitious or simply mature enough to preserve a line of contact with the “real” world. His meeting with the protagonist teacher is similarly debatable. It makes sense that she would succeed in connecting where others have failed, but it’s very possible that the miserable captives we meet in the house thought the same at some point. As events proceed, the cinematography and effects convey a sense of unravelling reality as much as Anthony’s power, augmented by the prominent cartoons. The materialized creatures truly feel like toons brought to life, still not as unnerving as the on-screen monster that dispatches the “sister” sent into its domain. Of course, there are many things I considered for the “one scene”, which will be from here. My own favorite is the would-be magician’s reluctant rabbit-out-of-a-hat trick, followed by the deceptively drawn-out reveal of Anthony’s real sibling.

That still leaves two whole segments, including Spielberg’s contribution. That is quite justly Ground Zero for the hate this movie usually gets, to the point that I am hard-pressed to say anything save that yes, it is that bad. My only dissent is that I don’t buy the suggested narrative that he was thrown off by the legendary troubles of the production. On the contrary, I find it typical of the sentimental, allegedly kid-friendly material that he was either being saddled with or bringing on himself before Jurassic Park forced the “system” to take him seriously again. Then there is the finale, which tends to get a measure of goodwill that I have yet to muster. For me, Lithgow simply does not work in the role. I also have to say, I find the gremlin strangely ineffective. Much of the time, you really can’t see the damn thing, and when you can, its wonky design borders on comical rather than threatening (yes, even compared to the suit they put Nick Cravat in…). The only thing that his improved my opinion after several viewings is the surreal camerawork, which at its best achieves a “comic book” feel akin to Creepshow. I can put in an extra good word for John Dennis Johnston as the quite sympathetic pilot, who really comes close to being in the right even with the gremlin.

Now I still have the “one scene”, and I finally went with the opening of the best segment. The teacher comes into a diner, where Anthony is playing Tempest (see… Night of the Comet?). The proprietor behind the counter is none other than everyone’s favorite cameo actor, Dick Miller (Night of the Creeps, Terminator, etc). He’s as entertaining as ever with more meat than usual as he charms the lady, throwing out multiple franchise references in the process. Meanwhile, an adult male patron becomes disgruntled at interference on a TV screen. In a curious bit of foreshadowing, he accuses Anthony of causing the static. The situation only escalates when the proprietor dismisses him. Finally, the patron takes matters into his own hands. As often happens, what follows is less interesting than the buildup. Does this mean that the townspeople suspect that Anthony is different? If so, does this also mean that Anthony’s abilities are weakened or largely nullified away from the house? Either way, why hasn’t anyone come to look for people who must be missing? Perhaps his powers are still effective enough to make people disregard the matter, or perhaps that is where some of the captives came from. As usual, no more will be said about it, which just makes it more interesting.

In closing, I would usually be defending the rating. This is one where there is simply too much baggage for me to venture a rating. As a whole, it’s better than people have wanted to give it credit for. The downside is, there are also things that are actually worse. All in all, that’s a pretty accurate representation of the series it’s based on. You can take it or leave it, but it’s time we stopped ignoring it. With that, I can find a little peace.

Image credit The Legendary VHS (Tumblr).

Miniature Giants: Blue Moon figures???

 

As I write this, I'm still in what is dormant mode compared to what I once did with this blog. That has given me time to consolidate my new and old acquisitions. That, in turn, has brought me back to a big part of what started all this, my giant Marx figures. Over the year since I last posted on this subject (most of the links will be below), I had made a few new acquisitions. What led to this feature, however, was a literal accident: A few days ago, I got someone else's package. In the process of figuring out what happened. I looked at the most beautiful figure I have ever seen. Here are a couple pics I took to cover my posterior.

The backstory here is that I received a package from an online seller I had made a previous purchase from containing figures I hadn't ordered or paid for. A quick correspondence confirmed that this was another buyer's purchase, accidentally shipped with my name and address. The figures proved to be Scooper and the Cameraman, both in the shiny marbled blue Marx used with some of the astronaut figures released at the beginning of 1970. What made me immediately paranoid was that there was absolutely no sign of damage to the lens of the Cameraman figure, where both of my specimens of the figure had been so roughed up it was hard to say if there was a trace of the original detail. I made sure to document this fact before repacking the figures. Here are a couple more pics.

And of course I had to do one with the Truckstop Queen...

"Hey, chicks dig a guy who's good with animals..."

Now, here's what started this. About a month ago, I put in a bid with the same seller for a blue version of a sculpt I have called Digger, which I previously had acquired only as a specimen in an odd shade of white with the head broken off. That one had been most interesting as an evident example of a different kind of plastic being used, possibly in a later run of the figures. I hadn't been unduly concerned with getting a more complete specimen, but when I saw I could get one that was whole and in blue, I put down a minimum bid and won. Here's a pic of the two together.

This, in turn, was proceeded by another purchase from a different seller. This was for the Commander, which I already had two of. I still decided it was worth the money, so I put in an order. What I got was much more impressive than I expected, particularly since my very first blue figure, the Cameraman (featured in the top pic), had proven distinctly underwhelming. This is literally brilliant, and if anything, that's a strong indicator that this is from the first run by Marx. Here are all three in a lineup.

I know, I'm bad at lighting...

And here's a few more pics of the new guys together.

"Sir, it appears that we are in a world of plastic toys. The upside is, most of them are smaller than us."

"Let's go home. Half our funding was just diverted to defense spending anyway."

So, the upshot of this is that I have now handled and photographed 5 of the 6 astronaut sculpts in blue. On the whole, having to send two of them back was a small price to pay. The future remains uncertain, as I have a few more relatively recent acquisitions I haven't posted about (see my video on rare figures) but no immediate plans for more purchases. Here's one more pic.

"The briefcase says authority, but a shovel says a guy who will bury the evidence."

That's all for now, more to come!

And as a bonus, here's all the installments of this feature.

Part 1: Enemy Marx (Japanese figures)

Part 2: Marx Marxists! (Soviet figures)

Part 3: Marx on the Moon (Apollo/ astronaut set)

Part 4: The Good, the Marx and the Ugly (Wild West and "'casualty" figures)

Part 5: Not Marx Is Still Good Marx (Mexican Marx toys and other large-sized figures)

Part 6: Marx By Marxists??? (Ukrainean produced figures)

Part 7: Back to the Moon! (Astronaut figures, part 2)

Part 8: Scooper Mystery? (Bulgy-pack production variant/ error)

Part 9: Mexican Scooper and Marvel Guy (The Daredevil figure...)

Part 10: More Cowboys! (Wild West, part 2)

Part 11: Universal Monsters Reissue Figure (The Mummy!)

Robot Revolution: The one where analog Skynet has a point

 

 

Title: Colossus: The Forbin Project aka The Forbin Project

What Year?: 1970

Classification: Prototype/ Anachronistic Outlier

Rating: It’s Okay! (3/4)

 

With this review, I’m up to the 6^th installment in my survey of movie robots, which has so far been the minimum for what I count as a feature. In terms of my plans, the milestone I have come to is the first movie I had to buy for the purpose of this review. It’s one I had thought of very early, though not in the body of films that first gave me the idea for the feature. It has also offered an example of a distinct category of AI, the Evil Computer, which on consideration may owe its current form to this movie. I present Colossus: The Forbin Project, a movie where the computer takes over the world… and isn’t necessarily in the wrong.

Our story begins with our protagonist Dr. Forbin overseeing the activation of Colossus, a supercomputer that is to take charge of the Western world’s nukes, because apparently nobody else has discussed why this might be a bad idea. Things go smoothly at first, and the doctor is merely intrigued when his creation uncovers the existence of a comparable computer on the other side of the Cold War. When the military brass try to stop the AIs from communicating, however, they discover that the two machines have already connected and developed their own arrangements. They soon deliver in ultimatum: If anyone tries to shut them down, both will retaliate with nuclear annihilation. The AIs also forcibly appoint Dr. Forbin to be their emissary to humanity. It’s a cat and mouse game between man and machine, in which the Doc’s only advantage is private time with a lady friend. Can they find a weakness in the computer? Will the pretend fling become real romance in the meantime? Find out- or read the rest of this review!

Colossus: The Forbin Project was a 1970 science fiction drama  directed by Joseph Sargent, based on a 1966 novel by D.F. Jones. The scenario of the movie and novel had similarities to earlier works such as Dr. Strangelove and “Holy Quarrel” by Philip K. Dick, as well as the later films Terminator and WarGames. The film starred German TV/ character actor Eric Braeden as Dr. Forbin, reportedly chosen after Charlton Heston (see The Omega Man) and Gregory Peck were considered for the role, with Sasan Clark as the love interest Cleo. Voice actor Paul Frees provided the voice of the computer. The film received largely favorable reviews from critics inside and outside the science fiction community. It was further nominated for a Hugo award for Dramatic Presentation. Jones published two sequels to his original novel after the release of the film. Sargent went on to direct films such as The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3. A remake was reported in development between 2007 and 2011, but failed to leave preproduction.

For my experiences, this was a film I heard about at an early age and watched at a still early date. It’s stood in my mind first and foremost as an example of the degree to which the 1960s and ‘70s dominated my formative pop culture experience. Even sight unseen, it was fascinating for its shear audacity, in the best tradition of ‘70s sci fi like Dark Star and Phase IV. The downside was that getting to the film itself was inevitably anticlimactic. By my best recollections, I found it competent but unremarkable apart from the fact that (I said spoiler warnings expire at 50 years in the Kronos review) the computer wins. The end result was that I felt no interest in coming back to it until I started working on this feature. As alluded, it was necessary to buy it to give it a viewing, and I found it if anything better than I remembered, but also even odder.

Moving forward, I must go into my analysis mode at the outset. Given the actual logistics of nuclear weapons and the Cold War in general, the problem posed by the story has two quite straightforward solutions. The first, to the film’s credit discussed and partly attempted, is to replace the fissile material and other key components in most or all nuclear weapons with “dummy” components. The logical backup plan is to stop the supply of new weapons and materials, either by passive resistance or by active sabotage of facilities that would not appear to be under analog Skynet’s control, then wait decades at most until the existing nuclear weapons hit their expiration dates. The emerging irony is that the scenario actually makes more sense with this factored in. Given the machines’ declared intent of ending war, their threats are potentially a variation of the “Architects of Fear” solution (see The Abyss and, dear Logos, Superman IV). Whether or not that is allowed as a motive, it certainly reinforces the obvious point: The best way to prevent your nukes from being misused by your own people or those outside your control is not to have them around.

When it comes to the movie itself, the overall feel remains one of competence in service of a necessarily self-limiting presence. The production values and posited tech are in line with Dr. Strangelove or a semi-realistic Bond movie. By extension, it does “look” like a 1960s movie in the 1970s, which in a real sense is exactly what it is. What gets it in my egregious Anachronistic Outlier category is the narrative style, which in many ways harken further back. The story and sharp camerawork keep intensely focused on the posited problem, with enough resulting tension and momentum to override the logical objections already outlined. The arguable “cons” come in the limited characterization and definitely uncomfortable sexual subtexts. Our protagonist is at least more vulnerable and complex than the square-jawed, nearly robotic problem-solvers of the 1950s. Then whether the film will fly with a viewer in a modern and enlightened era will depend very much on what one makes of his lady friend. By the harshest appraisal, we have an egregious case of an intelligent and initially professional female who is still reduced to a source of stress relief for the male. As with the better romances of the 1950s, however, there is enough nuance within the awkwardness to offer real insight on both the characters and the nature of gender roles. Their initial encounter under the computer’s scrutiny is especially intriguing. On one level, the pair are so hilariously unsensual that it’s hard to doubt that the AI already knows it’s a sham. On another, there are deeper hints that the computer knows better than they do that this is the best path either of them can take to what they really want.

That leaves the “one scene”, and I already gave honorable mention to my first choice. For an alternative, I did a search that brought me to one that sets it all up. After a failed attempt to disarm the AI, our protagonist fixes himself a martini. The computer questions him through text on a screen, and he responds quite amiably by explaining the process. Amusingly, the computer specifically objects that there is “too much” alcohol, without saying if its concern is based on health, sobriety or simple taste. We see a bull’s eye on the glass as the AI’s camera inspects the final product. The doctor sits down, and raises the question of privacy. One by one, his requests are refused at face value, until he raises female (or perhaps male…) companionship. That finally gets a further question of his needs, to which he answers, “Every night.” That immediately draws the reply, “Not want require.” It’s jaw-dropping in its connotations and implications, not least that the computer is already figuring out things it should have no frame of reference for. These are the little things that may not “help” address the sensibilities of a later era, yet still show that a film this old can still be part of the conversation.

In closing, this is one time when I find myself wondering if I was too hard in assigning the rating. On the whole, if I had reviewed this when I was doing Space 1979, exactly when I started looking at a number of films under consideration here, I would probably have given it 5 out of 5. The whole point of my “adjusted” scale, however, was to deal with very different standards of quality and professionalism. In those terms, the rating I have given is very much in line with the film’s self-evident strengths and limitations. It was not “great” then or now, and time has not done any favors, but what it did well is what continues to make it interesting and genuinely entertaining. As I said with The Andromeda Strain, it’s all the more impressive that this was made a full decade before home video exponentially increased access to older media. By the usual refrain, this is a case where “good enough” was plenty. For me personally, I can say I am glad I came back to it.