The Franchise File: The one with a Predator vs. Bill Paxton

 

Title: Predator 2

What Year?: 1990

Classification: That’s Good! (4/4)

 

With this review, I’m back to Featured Creature, a feature that’s been in a gray area between active and retired, particularly since most of what I’ve done lately has been leftovers from features I retired (see Death Becomes Her). This time, I’m back with something I wanted to do all along. I’m doing a lineup of 1980s franchise movies that came out in the 1990s. I speak, of course, of sequels, the one area where franchises have always been fair game, and I intend to cover the ones that are actually/ arguably good. To start things off, I have my pick for the very best of them. Here’s Predator 2, among other things the one with Bill Paxton, and if you are wondering if he’s getting to the end of this one, you missed the genre’s biggest in-joke.

Our story begins with a dystopian version of LA in the not-too-distant year of 1997, where the police are outgunned by generic minority gang members. The day is saved by our hero, a cop/ black guy named Harrigan, but when he breaks in to the bad guys’ hideout, he finds them already slaughtered by an unknown attacker who apparently entered and left through a skylight. He also runs into a fed who keeps pulling rank as more tough guys turn up skinned and mutilated. Of course, the real culprit is a Predator, a creature that hunts less advanced species for sport, according to a code of fair play that apparently doesn’t exclude using a cloaking device and plasma bazooka. This time around, the agents of the military-industrial complex are ready to hunt and catch it. Harrigan is dragged in as the G-man’s plans go south. It all comes down to a one-on-one fight- with an opponent who can take out a good part of the city if he loses!

Predator 2 was the first sequel to the 1987 film Predator, and the only sequel to be made by the original team of producers Lawrence Gordon and Joel Silver, writers Jim and John Thomas, and effects demigod Stan Winston (see Invaders From Mars, Congo, etc, etc, etc, etc). The film starred Danny Glover as Lt. Harrigan and Gary Busey as the fed Keyes, both of whom had appeared in Silver’s production Lethal Weapon, with the late Bill Paxton as the cop Jerry. The late Kevin Peter Hall (see… Highway To Hell?) played the Predator, the only returning cast member of the original film. The score was again composed by Alan Silvestri (see… Mac And Me???). While events of the earlier movie were referenced, the film did not include Arnold Schwarzenegger’s character or give a canonic account of his fate. Paxton became known for playing characters killed in the Terminator, Alien and Predator franchises. The movie was a possible commercial disappointment, earning $57 million against a budget of up to $35M, and was controversial among critics and fans. The next authorized film to feature the Predator was Alien Vs. Predator in 2004, based loosely on the Dark Horse comics Aliens Vs. Predator. Hall died of complications from HIV/ AIDS in 1991. Winston died of cancer in 2008. Paxton died in early 2017 of reported complications during surgery.

For my experiences, I looked up this movie pretty close to when I saw the first one, and it has ever since been stood as a definitive example of a sequel that is very possibly better than the original. What has really impressed me the most through the years is its simple audacity. Apart from anything else, having the very first sequel be about the monster without also  bringing back at least one recurring “hero” hadn’t really been done in the modern era outside the slasher genre (compare to Halloween 3). Beyond that, the movie surely drew on the further influence of Dark Horse comics, to the point that I have at times considered it for my finally retired Super Movies feature. Finally, I’ve been vaguely amused to see several Predator weapons introduced here become iconic in the franchise with little or no acknowledgment, especially the programmable murder frisbee (see also… Krull??!!). In these terms alone, this is at a minimum a sequel that knew how to build on its source material, and to me, that is just the start of why it’s awesome.

Moving in, I’m going to start with what’s good, particularly by further comparison with the first film. The central and easily overlooked reality is that this is definitely not the same Predator we saw before. In my “head canon”, what makes sense is that this is a younger specimen (partially validated at the very end), with correspondingly less finesse and far greater boldness. In an ironic twist that might or might not have been intentional, this one appears to adhere much more strictly to the implied code of fair play, to the extent that he (???) clearly favors close-range engagements with the claws and other edged weapons over sniping with the bazooka. There’s a certain further sense of vulnerability, egregiously during the semi-improvised first aid in a civilian’s bathroom. On the other side, we have a more relatable and likeable lead from Glover, who offers a true everyman that can voice what we’re all thinking, while Busey offers an authority figure whose actions are at least comprehensible. One more note in order is Silvestri’s soundtrack. As with the Predator itself, this is the same elements yet not the same, with a lively and authentic tribal flare added to an already archetypally effective score.

That, unfortunately, brings us to the parts that are not so good. To put it bluntly, the gang members are like cliches of other cliches. Only King Willy, bonkers even here, and perhaps the ill-fated Scorpio of the beginning rise to the level of discrete characters, let alone developed and interesting ones. In further hindsight, even Harrigan is matter-of-factly conformed to law-and-order stereotypes that would be far more uncomfortable if a “white” actor was portraying him, further validating implicit “war on drugs” politics that aged worse than usual. (It doesn’t exactly help that he effectively trades the murder frisbee and half a wrist nuke for a muzzleloader.) Finally, I will be the first and saddest to admit that they don’t do that much with Paxton. It’s as if they expected him to replicate his performance in Aliens (see my post on the novel) without the improvisational freedom that was allowed and effectively managed on James Cameron’s set. The result is a pleasant performance that checks the right boxes, redeemed by a last stand that was definitely in the running for the “one scene”.

Now for that very thing, the “one scene” that has intrigued me the most is (as happens fairly frequently) around the middle. While Harrigan is visiting the grave of a colleague, we see a child playing with a typically inappropriate 1980s toy gun at the edge of the cemetery. He seems aware of but unimpressed by his surroundings as he goes through his war games, making his own sound effects. Meanwhile, of course, the Predator is watching. The kid stops on seeing the silhouette of the cloaked creature. That’s when we go to Predator vision, and see the targeting computer highlight the silhouette of the toy gun (which is triggering a fan theory that the first one couldn’t see Arnold because their tech stinks). It’s every bit as horrifying as it sounds, except, I have never felt real doubt of the outcome. The Predator holds its fire, then the kid offers candy to the apparition with a line that is obviously going to be repeated. I find a certain ambiguity. It’s really a given that a race of sportsmen wouldn’t kill kids on purpose, no matter how fuzzy their alleged code gets. At the same time, there’s a sense of evil or at any rate amorality encountering innocence, and finding each other too baffling for further attention.

In closing, the only thing I can add is that this is one time my usual nitpicking might seem harsher than the actual rating. What it really comes down to is that this franchise was made to run on pure adrenaline, and this first follow-up already knew how to stick to its strengths. The last thing that lingers in my mind is how much the people involved here shaped my life and pop culture experience from childhood to early adulthood, whether or not I knew it at the time, and how many of them are gone. (While I’m at it, why not links for parts 1, 2, and 3 of my Lanard Predator posts?) I could go long on the melancholy, but it’s enough to say that they will stay with me as long as I’m still here. Rage against the dying of the light, and while you’re at it, watch something good!

Super Movies! The one with a superhero who's not a superhero

 

 

Title: The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai aka The Adventures of Bucakroo Banzai Across The 8^th Dimension

What Year?: 1984

Classification: Irreproducible Oddity

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

 

As I write this, I’ve been on a bit of a 1980s binge. That presented the perfect occasion for a movie I have been meaning to do a ludicrously long time. It’s an entry whose very inclusion in this feature requires even more arm-waving than Heavy Metal and They Live. To me, however, it was an integral part of my comic-book pop culture experience long before I saw it. Once I thought of this feature, I knew it belonged here. I present The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai, a movie I might never have seen or heard of if not for ads in old comic books.

Our story begins with a test of a new vehicle, a sort of rocket car with a special overthruster that allows it to travel through solid matter, possibly either to save on tolls or always have a place to park. The pilot proves to be the titular Buckaroo Banzai, a billionaire, inventor, brain surgeon and actual rock star (well, more like blues meets techno neo-swing), because in a 1980s movie, Mary Sue was not only an acceptable model for a character but an ideal one. After the trip, he finds an unknown if seemingly harmless organism stuck to the car, apparently the fauna of another universe. We also meet a former colleague of Mr. Banzai’s late father named Dr. Lizardo, who took part in a similar experiment only to come out raving mad. In reality, he’s either possessed or replaced by an evil overlord who has been waiting for an invention like Buckaroo’s to return to our universe. Buckaroo must keep the overthruster out of the hands of Lizardo and his concealed alien minions, with help from a nominally friendly alien faction that still isn’t above taking out Earth as collateral damage if they lose. But the greatest challenge may be a troubled young lady who just might have the key to his past- and his heart!

The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai was a 1984 science fantasy film directed by W.D. Richter, based on a character, story and script developed in collaboration with novelist/ screenwriter Earl Mac Rauch. The film starred Peter Weller (see Robocop 2, Leviathan, etc.), with John Lithgow (see Santa Claus The Movie) as Dr. Lizardo and Ellen Barkin as love interest Penny Priddy. An extensive supporting cast included Jeff Goldblum (see Earth Girls Are Easy), Clancy Brown (Pet Sematary 2), and Christopher Lloyd (see… Star Trek 3?) as chief minion John Bigboote (pronunciation a running gag…). The theme music, used only in the end titles and certain excerpts within the film, was composed by Michael Boddicker, otherwise best known as a synthesizer performer. While the film had a medium to high budget of $17 million, it was not given a corresponding budget for marketing on television or “mainstream” publications. Most of its limited advertisements were instead printed in comic books, presumably on the assumption that it would have the greatest appeal to superhero fans and younger readers in general. The movie included a teaser for a sequel, which the creators of the film later downplayed as a joke. Whatever the intentions of the filmmakers, the film was unsuccessful, earning only $6.3M. It gained much greater popularity as a cult film, eventually being featured or referenced in other media such as Ready Player One. Efforts to develop a sequel or “reboot” have failed to progress, in part because of reported conflicts over rights to the film and characters.

For my experiences, as I have alluded, this was a movie that I only knew existed because I saw ads for it in old comics, probably around the early 1990s. What’s strange in hindsight was that given this context, it never crossed my mind that there was anything unusual about the film itself. I hadn’t heard of it, and wouldn’t for years to come, but it wasn’t the only time I ran across a movie I hadn’t heard of before in this fashion. Even the wonky title and goofy character names in the ad didn’t seem that odd for the ‘80s/ ‘90s, especially with Marvel comics as a frame of reference. In a final irony, I finally watched the movie and still didn’t know the full story, which from what I know now is that of a cursed production to rival Star Trek 5, with possibly even greater confusion and active hostility from studio management. My effective verdict was that it was not much more or less than good fun. That left a decade or so to second-guess myself before I got hold of it again.

Moving forward, the main thing to talk about (at least after the astonishing theme music) is the title character. It goes without saying that his range of careers and skills I completely and surely willfully preposterous. That, in turn, has invited the argument whether this qualifies as a superhero movie. Certainly, Buckaroo has counterparts in the annals of superheroes, especially Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark. (Okay, yeah, Iron Man probably kind of ripped off Batman.) On the other hand, there are signs of earlier roots which are difficult to pin down. When I was preparing for this review, a correspondent suggested Doc Savage as a source, which definitely feels in the right neighborhood. I find more immediate parallels in 1960s-‘70s animation (see, dear Logos, my Captain Scarlet post). What has fascinated me most is that Buckaroo is never pushed into the “strong, silent” and implicitly “dumb” stereotypes of masculinity. He communicates well, both professionally and personally; he can talk others through their emotional problems; and he certainly isn’t afraid to express his own feelings. This is the part that seems surreal specifically for the 1980s timeframe, except, many of the background sources I have mentioned were showing intelligent and emotionally complex male characters before, during and after the decade’s collective freakouts, a whole other rant I will get back to momentarily.

For the arguable con side, the core “problem” is that this really does feel like a first installment that wasn’t really trying to be the best. The central plot never gets far ahead of the hero’s personal trials and side antics, while the heroics needed to defeat the villains are mild as such things go, without any doubt as to the outcome. Quite a few more issues rise from the nature of the villains. The aliens are more comic-book than Buckaroo, and more goofy than sinister even by those standards. What’s all the more problematic is that neither they nor their opponents ever do much that a human couldn’t; indeed, this could have been quite a bit more interesting if they had native collaborators to do their dirty work on the lines of They Live. There’s a further missed opportunity in the apparently racial divide between the “red” and “black” factions, which hints at a backstory that might make the villains either more or less sympathetic without ever being explored. Finally and rather counterintuitively, we never have any cause to doubt that they are fundamentally rational, strange mannerisms and grandiose posturing notwithstanding. This is the logical villainy of Rupert Thorne, not the actual insanity of the Joker or Megavolt. That’s not bad by any means, but it misses the one thing that makes so many outwardly goofy villains utterly terrifying on more considered analysis.

That leaves the “one scene”, and I’m going with the one that has kept my interested in the film. A little ways in, Buckaroo is performing with his band when he pauses and says, “Is somebody crying?” That actually draws an apology from someone in the audience. That’s when the spotlight turns on Penny, who at first sight is impressively a mess. At first, she is unwilling to talk, but he draws her out enough to tell her story. Buckaroo continue with semi-philosophical comments like, “Don’t be mean,” and, “Wherever you go, there you are.” He then starts the next number, while several of the bandmates continue to scrutinize her. In the midst of it, she draws a gun… and puts it to her own head. And this is where I can go on a cluster rant. I can say as a self-advocate, this is a quite good portrayal of a mental-health intervention. Of course, it shows things you really shouldn’t do, but there is far more done right that the media still don’t get. And that comes back to the movie’s baffling place in 1980s-‘90s masculinity, where anti-intellectualism and homophobia were pretty much a chicken/ egg thing. Right at ground zero, however, we have this film portraying an attractive, intelligent, heterosexual guy who can talk feelings as well as physics. The real lesson is that “goofball” genre films like this could be vastly more intelligent about gender roles, sexual orientation and mental health than the “mainstream” pop culture.

In closing, I have to say that I am finally at the ending I planned for this feature. For me, it was the perfect choice, if only because there is truly no other like it. That, in turn, is why I have chosen to designate it “unrated”. To me, this is a film I could have given any of my usual ratings, depending on the part and my own mood. The fair compromise was always to let it be its own thing, and let you the viewer draw your own conclusions. With that, I can end another chapter. “Home is where you wear your hat.”

Super Movies: The one by the guys who made Empire Strikes Back

 

 

Title: Robocop 2

What Year?: 1990

Classification: Weird Sequel

Rating: That’s Good! (4/4)

 

As I write this, it’s been a little over a month since my nominal revival of this feature, and I’ve been continuing to consider what I really want to do. I’ve also been reminded how often I’ve talked about such things and how irrelevant it usually becomes when I lay tings down outside my blog. So this time around, I’m just going to say that I’ll be reviewing a movie that was never really not going to be here, but just got lost in the shuffle. It will also stand out as a movie where the comic book/ superhero angle is unusually indirect (even more so than They Live), which to me has made it all the more interesting. I present Robocop 2, a sequel to a movie that probably ripped off a comic book by a guy who wrote comic books.

Our story begins with our hero Robocop back on the streets, hunting for the source of a drug called Nuke and the crime lord/ cult leader Cain directing the operation. Meanwhile,  the familiar rogues’ gallery at OCP are trying to create another cyborg, but their “candidates” keep literally self-destructing. Things continue to go downhill as the police go on strike and OCP proceeds with a hostile takeover of Old Detroit. When Robocop gets chopped up by the bad guys, however, he overrides his new politically-correct programming to go on the warpath. The aftermath sees Cain crippled, leaving his crazy girlfriend and juvenile delinquent lieutenant to spin a new scheme to leverage the city government. But the real wild card comes in play when the company’s cyber-psychologist decides to put the self-proclaimed Messiah in a new robot body!

Robocop 2 was the first sequel to the 1987 film Robocop, widely believed to be based on the character and comic Judge Dredd (see also Hardware). The project was pursued without significant involvement by director Paul Verhoeven, though writers Edward Neumeier (see Starship Troopers 3) and Michael Miner provided an early and largely unused script. The production proceeded with a script by writer/ artist Frank Miller, with Irvin Kershner (see Never Say Never Again) as director. Peter Weller (see Leviathan, Of Unknown Origin) and Nancy Allen (Strange Invaders) returned as Robocop and Anne Lewis, with Daniel O’Herlihy (The Last Starfighter) as “the Old Man”. Cain was played by character actor Tom Noonan; other cast included Gabriel Damon as Hob, and the late Galyn Gorg as Angie. The villain Robocop 2 was portrayed with extensive “go-motion” effects by Phil Tippett (all hail Phil), who had also created ED-209 for the original film. The soundtrack was scored by Leonard Rosenman, whose previous work included Bakshi’s Lord of the Rings, replacing Basil Poledouris (see the Conan the Destroyer and Starship Troopers soundtrack posts while you’re at it). The film was a commercial disappointment, earning under $46 million against a budget of up to $30M. Weller declined to return for Robocop 3, which was received very poorly. Kershner never directed another film, though he continued to  work in the industry; his final credit was as executive producer for The Lost Tribe, released several months before his death in late 2010. Gorg died of lung cancer in 2020.

For my experiences, Robocop was yet another 1980s property that influenced me without more than casual exposure to the thing itself. I can now see in it the backbone of the exotroopers, the Evil Possum, and especially Percy the robot cop. Yet, I’m sure that I couldn’t have seen the movie more than once or twice from elementary school to the start of college, and then always as the outlandishly bowdlerized network TV cut (which I still find in many ways more fun). On the other hand, I can very vividly remember encountering its pop culture trail, from the cartoon to the NES game to the live-action TV show. On top of that, I can now see its mark on still other things I knew and loved back then, like the psychotic TV series Sledge Hammer. It was in the wake of all that when I rediscovered the original film, still on TV and bootleg video tape. That finally inspired me to go looking for more, and what I came home with was a tape of the sequel. From all I can remember, I really liked it as well as what I had seen of the original, which is what I’m bringing to the table even now.

Moving forward, the foremost thing to say is that this is a clear case of a sequel being “different” rather than necessarily better or worse, which has left me all the more puzzled by the criticism and occasional outright hate it was getting both at the time of its release and since. What’s all the more curious is that there is a certain school that tries to pin the blame for the arguable and inarguable failings of the film on its departures from Miller’s story and script (evidently including Weller and Miller himself). Having considered among other things Miller’s own comic book treatment of his original script, I have to dissent that this is getting things exactly the wrong way ‘round. What’s in the movie, for better or worse, is exactly the libertarian/ anarchist  manifesto he intended, especially the very direct connection drawn between allegedly progressive “political correctness” and actual corporate censorship. (For that matter, Robocop 3 is pretty much Miller ramped up by a factor of Miller…) What I find to be the movie’s strength is that this is moderated throughout by good action scenes, engaging dialogue and intriguing character development, all of which I will definitely give the director at least some credit for.

With that laid out, the further pros and cons lie in what is done with the characters and the assumed world. The plans of OCP for Old Detroit have progressed, with even more overt villainy from O’Herlihy as the CEO. On the downside, there’s also more outright irrationality, and not solely in the scheme to use a criminal as their new cyborg. The whole scheme to drive up crime while driving the police to strike made a certain amount of sense as a short-term goal, but by this point, they should be either getting the cops on their side or replacing them (which is admittedly shown in both the comic and the threequel). On the other side, it’s debatable whether there’s anything new for Robocop and Lewis. If anything, Robo has the better arc, as he proves himself more willing to question OCP and more open to human emotion. By comparison, Lewis is just herself with a little more snark, without any sign of being affected by the heartrending ordeal she went through last time. A final good word is in order for the bad guys. The gang from the first movie were too feral for evil deeper than basic sadism. (If they were already raising the dead, why couldn’t we get Kurtwood Smith back?) The trio this time are nuanced, clearly intelligent characters with a complex and increasingly disturbing dynamic, and the kid is the most cunning and quite possibly the most dangerous of them all. This is true Greek tragedy, regardless of whether one can muster sympathy for any of them.

Now, I’m definitely going long for the robots and the effects. Robocop 2 is by any standard one of the best bots created through any method or medium, to me really only comparable to the very odd cyborg of Saturn 3. Its shape and look is essentially ape-like, with touches of the dinosaurian influences of ED-209. What’s most impressive is that it actually seems to have an advantage on Robocop in mobility despite its larger size and evidently far greater weight and durability. This thing can climb, jump, and manipulate objects. On top of that, it has a greater armament. There’s really just two problems. First, the final battle gets long and very bloody for something that could and should be literal comic-book fun, as evidenced especially before and after the surreal melee in the elevator shaft. Second, this isn’t really a natural evolution of the Robocop design, which is already more functional as a one-man SWAT team than a general-purpose law enforcement AI. (I think even kid-me thought of that with Percy.) For an actual tank on legs, there’s not much this can do that an upgraded ED-209 couldn’t do better. For something that can at a minimum chase the bad guys while still entering through the door (and ideally using the stairs…), the already terrifying “joke” Robocops at the beginning were far more promising. (I especially like the first one, which also offered a more natural use of the TV screen interface.) If it comes to that, you could keep the already very good design and just scale it down to Robo’s size.

With that, I’ve gone much longer than usual and I’m still just getting to the “one scene”. Right around the end of the first act, there’s a reunion between Robocop and Mrs. Murphy, and it is not happy. We learn that Robocop has been “patrolling” around his family’s new home, leading to a lawsuit. On coaching from his handlers, he admits that he is a machine before his wife enters. It would be understandable if she only asked to be left alone; instead, she addresses him as Alex, then starts into a speech that they can be together again. Robo simply says, “Touch me,” and she touches his fully exposed face. (We never do get a full explanation how that part actually works.)  He gives the dodgy explanation that the likeness is to honor Alex Murphy, then states, “Your husband is dead.” He then leaves, saying, “I don’t know you.” This is one more thing where I can easily credit Kershner for making it work as well as it does. (Yeah, there is a corresponding scene in the comic, and this is vastly better.) The most frustrating yet counterintuitively effective part is that this is the first and last we will see or hear of it. The whole point of great storytelling and great filmmaking is that if a scene is truly memorable, you don’t have to reference it at every opportunity to keep it applicable to the rest of the story, which is what marks the best of the very best.

In closing, I am left very late with what I think of the movie. Depending on mood, I might rate this lower than I have, but definitely not lower than 3 out of 4. To me, the bottom line is that this is the kind of franchise where “canon” does not apply. The original was so spot on, both in what it showed and what it didn’t show, that a “real” sequel was neither necessary nor conceivable. What makes sense is a “what if” that could just as well be a campfire tale told in the universe of the first film, and that’s the “head canon” by which I can accept the subsequent films (yes, even Robocop 3). In any case, what I have come to appreciate more and more is just how much creativity and actual genius went into this movie. Sure, it’s self-dated and in certain ways outdated, but such is the fate of all political comedy, no matter how good. (If it comes to that, I can count the eventual obsolescence of “PC” as anything but a reactionary’s straw man as one last “I told you so” for Miller.) That doesn’t change the fact that this is a very well-made movie that’s interesting even when it’s irritating. I can even find a last good word for the music, at least as long as there isn’t an actual choir singing our hero’s name. If I don’t get any more done under this feature, I will still be happy to have gotten to this one. With that, I am calling it a day. “They’ll fix you. They fix everything…”

No Good Very Bad Movies Countdown 2: The one that's the worst Marvel movie

 

Title: Man-Thing

What Year?: 2005

Classification: Improbable Experiment

Rating: Dear God WHY??!! (1/3)

 

With this review, I’m continuing my countdown of worsts, and the next up is the Marvel superhero movie. What complicated this is that I already have long since covered the most notorious entries in the genre, like Howard The Duck, the Spiderman TV movie, and even Roger Corman’s unmovied Fantastic Four movie. But by my usual standards, the least of these are at a high standard of mediocrity, and you aren’t really going to find anything much worse without delving into cancelled animation pilots, foreign knockoffs, fan films and the like. There’s one, however, that falls in its own category of badness, and far from being a bootleg from long ago, it was made well within the modern era under Marvel’s own movie arm. As a bonus, it happens that I watched it not long ago and forgot almost everything about it, which as I established with Inseminoid is a very, very bad sign. Here is Man-Thing, a film based on the Marvel counterpart to Swamp Thing that somehow makes that movie look good.

Our story begins with teenagers partying in the wetlands of an unspecified Deep South location. Of course, it leads to a grisly end for two young lovers who sneak off by themselves. We jump forward to a new sheriff in a town whose main employer is an oil company drilling in the middle of a tribe’s sacred land. A reporter and a spunky school teacher warn the lawman that people are disappearing or turning up gruesomely mutilated in the swamps. He quickly runs afoul of the head of the petrochemical company, who would clearly be puzzled by the suggestion not to engage in corruption. Meanwhile, a tribal elder warns that the cause of the shenanigans is a supernatural entity outraged by the company’s desecration, and one of his peers has disappeared on a mission of sabotage or worse. Things heat up when one of the sheriff’s deputies becomes another victim. He sets out to find the monster- but the real evil may be human!

Man-Thing was an American-Australian film by Artisan Entertainment and Marvel Enterprises. The film was based on the character and comic from Marvel, first published in 1971 two months before DC’s Swamp Thing. The companies had previously produced the 2004 version of The Punisher, as part of a venture that was reportedly planned to create up to 15 films. The film was directed by Brett Leonard, following The Lawnmower Man and Virtuosity, with Marvel’s Avi Arad as producer. While the story was set in the American Everglades, filming took place entirely in Australia. The cast was led by Australians Matthew Nevez as the lawman and Jack Thompson as the villainous industrialist Schist, with New Zealander Rawiri Paratene as the medicine man Horn. A Man-Thing suit was created by the Make-Up Effects Group. By the best estimates, the film was made for $5 million. Arad stated that the Marvel had little or no direct control. The film was withdrawn from US release, in part due to the bankruptcy of Artisan, but received limited theatrical showings in foreign markets as well as airings on the Sci Fi Channel. It is currently available on free streaming from Tubi.

For my experiences, I first encountered this one on the used shelves, which left me interested enough to request it in my rental queue around 2016. I ultimately watched it on portable equipment in 2016 during a ride to work, and gave it little thought after that, even (indeed especially) after starting my misbegotten Super Moviesfeature. What kept me somewhat intrigued is the very odd placement within the genre timeline. It at least technically predates the start of the “MCU” with Iron Man, yet still falls well within the “modern” era, long after X-Men and the Raimi Spiderman made big budgets and mainstream talent were the norms rather than exceptions. What it really represents is a throwback to the 1990s direct-to-video wave, when offerings like the first Punisher were good enough for near-respectability. In hindsight, it might have opened the way for more low to mid-budget entries and perhaps to a level of creativity only animation achieved before or since. But that, of course, would have meant being good.

Moving forward, the central reality of the movie is that the scenery and the effects are the only things going for it, in that order. The swamp landscape is spectacular, far more so than I could have assessed on the equipment I first viewed this on, and the creature mysterious and very physical. Everything else fails any potential they offer. The acting, characters and dialogue barely average out as tolerable, with all the relatively good moments coming from Thompson and Paratene. The real defects kick in with the story, which manages the common comic-book flaw of being simplistic and convoluted at the same time, while also remaining unaccountably dull. It doesn’t help that a number of story points completely ignore actual tribal law, which would in fact allow the natives to throw the hero and the bad guys off their land at any time. But the one thing that racks up the irritation factor is the bizarrely flat camerawork, certainly far inferior to Craven’s, which inexorably erodes any sense of atmosphere and mystery. While I’m usually indifferent to analog purists, this is definitely a case where the old tech did a far better job. The gritty look of film was a key part of what made Swamp Thing interesting, where even the better moments of this one look as bland as an infomercial.

Even with these problems, what invites the closest and most unfavorable scrutiny is Man-Thing himself. To start with, his role amounts to cameos in his own movie, an approach that definitely could have worked for other characters, especially “dark” protagonists like Wolverine and The Punisher. Given this setup, however, it would have made more sense to frame the story from the perspective of the villains rather than the sheriff. (The fact that I have said even less about the love interest is by all means an intentional snub.) This is where it would have helped greatly to know more about the character’s origin and backstory, if only to heighten the confusion and growing dread of his adversaries. Then the fundamental problem is that there’s simply no way to frame the creature as the “good” guy, even in relative terms. We might accept his crusade if his victims were workers for the company and others who were harming the environment, however reluctantly or unknowingly. But far too many of them are simply random bystanders, or those who would otherwise be on the same side. What’s even more difficult is that, outside of the hazily explained ending, there’s no sense of a character who might once have had a more positive role. All we really have is an ecoterrorist version of the Punisher, with even less moral judgment.

That leaves the “one scene”, and I’m going with the encounter between Horn and the creature. By the finale, the medicine man is desperate enough to seek out Man-Thing himself. We find him in the swamp at night, moodily lit. He sings his songs and shakes a ceremonial rattle, until Man-Thing appears. It’s our first really good look at the creature, and it is certainly very effective, by the filmmakers’ accounts realized with a practical suit augmented by CGI for the tendrils and the eerie red eyes. The creature just stares as the shaman calls out his challenge, finally saying, “Take my life, and be done with it!” It’s the one time we see some sign of grief or remorse from the creature, but it doesn’t change the outcome as creature picks up the human. Then, as if to add extra offense, the character goes through a series of distractingly strange convulsions. We get back to some sense of pathos as the camera zooms in on his face, just in time for a bizarre gore effect. It’s easily the best sequence in the movie yet still a showcase of its flaws and squandered potential.

In closing, I am back at the rating. This is one where I went through some debate, and it’s been one of the few times where the “hate” factor wasn’t much help. I can’t say this one left me angry or offended like Inseminoid or The Golden Child, or disappointed the way Star Trek The Motion Picture and the TV Spiderman did. What it really came down to was an equally subjective test, whether this felt like incompetence or actual laziness, and I definitely go with the later. Maybe the filmmakers couldn’t have gotten better effects, cameras or even actors, but surely, with Marvel behind them, they could have gotten a better story and script. Even apart from such considerations, the fact remains that this is easily the worst film to come out with Marvel’s name in the current millennium, if not for all time. The bottom line remains, boring is even more unacceptable than “bad”, and that especially applies for an entry in a genre built on action and vivid characters. So congratulations, Marvel, you did your worst before anyone was paying attention, and I am not forgetting it.

Super Movies! The first one with Batman

 

Title: Batman

What Year?: 1966

Classification: Prototype

Rating: What The Hell??? (2/4)

 

Back when I started movie reviews, something I acknowledged up front is that my pop culture experience as an Eighties kid had little to do with the 1980s. I didn’t have a TV until the end of the decade, I didn’t go to the movies often, and what I did get exposure to tended to be older media the adults weren’t paying attention to. The end result was that my bedrock for TV in particular became the 1960s: The Twilight Zone, Get Smart, and for that matter the original Star Trek. Despite this footprint, I have only made a few forays into the period as a reviewer, and then usually into things I knew little or nothing about at the time. With this review, I am coming back to the period, for what was possibly my most meaningful ‘60s experience after Trek, and it’s all the more fitting that I’m doing it for my longest-running and least prolific feature. I present Batman, the original, and it is… odd.

Our story begins with a quick introduction to our heroes, Batman and Robin, and incarnations of four somewhat randomized villains, the Joker, the Penguin, Cat Woman and the Riddler. Our villains have teemed up, with the Penguin as the leader if only because he commands a submarine that serves as their hideout. They proceed with a series of loosely connected schemes, including a trap or two for Batman and the Boy Wonder. But the plot gets in gear as Cat Woman romances Bruce Wayne under the guise of a Russian reporter. When the villains use the romance to blackmail the billionaire, our hero must choose between his dual identities. And in case this is sounding philosophical, there’s also a rubber shark, a gaggle of dehydrated UN representatives, and a marching band that doesn’t notice a guy with a bomb!

Batman was a 1966 superhero film by director Leslie H. Martinson, distributed by 20^th Century Fox. The film became the first feature-length DC superhero movie, and the first live-action Batman adaptation since 1940s serials. While it was remembered as a cinematic adaptation of the contemporary TV series, the film was developed and filmed during the first season of the show, before the success of either was certain. The film starred Adam West and Burt Ward in their roles as Batman and Robin, with Burgess Meredith (see... The Manitou?) as the Penguin. Cesar Romero and Frank Gorshin also reprised their TV roles as the Joker and the Riddler, while Lee Meriwether appeared as Cat Woman in place of Julie Newmar. The film was judged a moderate box office success, earning $3.9 million against a budget of up to $1.5M. The series continued until 1968, after which it continued to air in syndication. The movie was first released on home video in 1985 and remains available in digital formats. Adam West died in 2016, shortly before the release of his final film, the direct-to-video animated film Batman Vs. Two Face.

For my experiences, I can remember growing up aware of Batman and Superman, mainly through story books and other media at witsome remove from the source material. Of course, that all changed with the release of the Tim Burton movie, which seemed to coincide with a local revival of the ‘60s show. I can recall seeing it shortly after it would have come out, but it was the show that had the greatest impact, up to the 1990s animated series. What stands out in hindsight is that the show offered the most balanced portrayal of the mythos. There was a good rotation in the major villains, with Burgess Meredith being the most impressive. Then there were very good portrayals of the (then) relatively obscure villains, including what must have been Otto Preminger’s incarnation of Mr. Freeze. Unfortunately, I could see even as a kid that there were things that badly dated the series, particularly a wildly sexist plot I might have doubted existed if I wasn't me. (See here and here, or better yet, don't.) As I matured, the show quickly became a good memory better left in the past. I was even less interested in the movie, which even series fans are critical of. The viewing that led to this review finally came because a friend wanted to see it. Once I saw it, I knew I had to cover it, simply because I couldn’t see coming back to it anytime soon.

What really stands out watching the movie is that it is quite different from the show, though it’s subtle enough to make things hard to pin down. The most obvious departure is that there’s no close counterpart to the usual death trap/ execution machine sequences that always set up the cliffhangers. It could also seem disorienting to have the Joker treated as a supporting character, which is really an indicator of how much the mythos has evolved. The shift further reflects the levels of talent involved. Merriwether is superb as Cat Woman, while Meredith is simply the best actor the show ever had, at least after George Sanders’ one-time appearance as Freeze. There’s also a bit more “edge”, not just innuendo but genuinely dark moments, plus a political note; this comes out most blatantly with the useless UN delegates, who keep arguing even as the Joker picks them off one by one. An extra surreal bit is a shark attack a full decade before Jaws, all the more jarring for the comically bad effects which feel like they should be in a parody.

The most interesting aspects of the movie are the surprising moments of emotional depth. This is most obvious in the romance of Wayne and Cat Woman, which pushes the much-ridiculed West to surprising heights. Of course, the credibility gets stretched by the hero’s failure to recognize her identity, though Cat Woman is equally at fault unless she is holding out on her cohorts. What’s even more intriguing are Batman’s lectures to Robin, which get as far as emphasizing the value of human life after several of the Penguin’s goons possibly die in a science experiment gone amok. It’s an early preview of the character’s increasingly strict “no kill” policy. It also establishes a clearly and convincingly paternal relationship with Robin, notwithstanding the jokes that were brewing even then. There’s a point, however, where this becomes yet another case of “too much and not enough”. You can have Batman colorful and campy or dark and moody, but there was never going to be much room for middle ground. One extra bit of annoyance is that the movie all but inverts the vigilante angle, at one point explicitly announcing that Batman is a deputized agent for the police. All this simply dissipates any antiauthoritarian subtexts carried over from the source material, at least until the end, which almost anticipates Superman IV.

That leaves the “one scene”, and this time it’s one that I was genuinely unprepared for. Batman discovers a bomb in a room above a tavern on a wharf, and promptly goes into overdrive. It is truly a comic-book bomb, complete with a sizzling fuse. The amusing part is that he does everything reasonable within moments, warning the patrons to flee the establishment. It’s more than enough to prevent civilian casualties, unless that thing’s a Davy Crockett nuke. (And it’s clearly not his fault two idiots keep eating…) Rather than leave well enough alone and run for it, however, he grabs the bomb and rushes out onto the improbably crowded pier. A completely surreal sequence follows as he encounters one heartrending innocent after another, like a baby carriage, a marching band that seems to be everywhere at once, nuns, young lovers in a rowboat, and even a flotilla of ducks. He finally says, “Some days, you just can’t get rid of a bomb!” And then… then… the damn thing goes off.

In closing, this is one time I don’t feel like I need to justify my rating. This is a movie that makes no excuses for itself, and to that extent, it lives up to the series. Yes, it’s weird. Yes, it’s dated. Yes, it hovers between campy and outright bad. But the superhero genre and the franchise had to start somewhere, and this certainly isn’t the worst outing for Batman or DC in general. It also shows that what is “dark” in the franchise and genre was always there, and you don’t have to ramp up gritty for its own sake to 100 on a scale of 10 to do it justice. It was a good start, which should be good enough to remember, if not always to dig up again. And with that, I’m once more calling it a day.

Image credit The Bat Channel.

Super Movies! The one with Grand Moff Tarkin and Joan Collins

 

Title: Tales From The Crypt

What Year?: 1972

Classification: Anachronistic Outlier

Rating: It’s Okay! (3/4)

 

The last time I came to this feature, I was announcing that I was ready to bring it to an end, at least as part of the regular lineup. Because I’m really not very good at this, I’m back with another entry. It all came to this because several other possibilities I considered for my other features fell through, and in the middle of it all, a reviewer I follow posted a review of one I had been considering on and off for a very long time. With that, I present Tales From The Crypt, 1970s edition.

Our story begins after an opening score that seems to have been recorded in the 1930s with a group of visitors in a Medieval catacomb. Five of the group wander down a side passage into a chamber where a creepy man in an old-school monk’s robe. The old guy becomes the narrator of a series of tales of their misdeeds, beginning with a woman who murders her husband on Christmas Eve, only to discover that a lunatic in a Santa suit has paid a visit. The tales get more explicitly supernatural as we move on to a philanderer who finds himself transformed after an accident with his mistress and a wealthy man’s scheme to remove a dotty garbageman from his gentrifying neighborhood. We then meet a proud financier whose wife learns the price of getting what you wish for. Then we’re back to the Earthly plane with a faceoff between the chiseling administrator of a home for the blind and his defiant but patient wards. But at the end of it all, they still must learn just where they are!

Tales From The Crypt was a 1972 horror film by Amicus (see The People That Time Forgot) and AIP based on stories from the comic of the same name and from two other EC titles, Vault of Horror and Haunt of Fear. The film was directed by Freddie Francis from a script by Amicus cofounder Milton Subotsky. The top-billed star was Peter Cushing (see The Horror Express and Shock Waves) as the dustman Grimsdyke, a role he reportedly chose over the businessman Jason in the segment “Wish You Were Here”, ultimately played by Richard Greene. Other cast included Joan Collins (see Empire of the Ants) as the murderess in “All Through the House”, Patrick Magee as the leader of the blind men, and the late Sir Ralph Richardson (see… Time Bandits?) as the Cryptkeeper. The theme from the film was Bach’s “Toccata And Fugue”,  previously used for horror/ genre films such as the 1931 version of Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde. The film was an immediate if modest success, earning a box office of over $3 million against a budget of 170,000 pounds. It was followed by a sequel, The Vault of Horror, released as a Shout 2-pack Blu Ray with the original in 2014. Several segments of the film were later remade for the Tales From The Crypt TV series. The film is currently available for streaming on the Tubi platform.

For my experiences, I knew of Tales From The Crypt vaguely thanks to the TV show, but never got much further into it than the present film, which I looked up sometime in the 2000s. When I first encountered it, I freely accepted it as a “classic”. In the years since, I have never felt that its reputation diminished. What I did see was major fluctuations in the availability of the film, to the point that I was for a time seriously concerned that this would be yet another movie in Copyright Hell. I suspect that this, in turn, allowed a more subtle shift among audiences and critics, especially new and old fans of the TV series and the original comics. I myself have come to the point of debating between this film, Vault of Horror and Creepshow as the best vintage EC-based film. The original film is no longer the centerpiece of the franchise, if it ever was, yet it hasn’t fallen into obscurity or disrepute either. And that offers a pretty good point for a relatively neutral reviewer like me to come in for another look.

Turning to the film, what stands out in my usual sensitivities is that this is an egregious example of a film that feels both ahead of its time and willfully “retro”, the epitome of what I call the Anachronistic Outlier. The music, the shooting style and even the casting all deliberately harken back to the 1950s period of the comics and in some cases to their earlier sources. In the process, the movie unintentionally highlights the morality-play format that tamped down horror in the pulp era. Yet, there is still a nihilistic “edge” that anticipates or exceeds movies far ahead of its own time, undoubtedly in no small part because “mainstream” American genre films had fallen so far behind as to be actively regressing. This isn’t slasher-movie pseudo-moralizing about premarital sex and found-object homicide, but a Serlingesque panorama of terrible people who knowingly bring trouble on others as well as themselves. It’s aided greatly by the distinguished cast. Cushing and Richardson are the easy standouts, with Magee pulling up from behind. My picks for the most impressive performances, however, are Collins, who spends much of her time looking anxious or bored as she considers the logistics of body disposal, and Greene, pushed to supporting cast in his own story yet perhaps even better than Cushing might have been as a rogue who unquestionably suffers far more than he deserves.

On the “con” side, most of the obvious problems come simply from the anthology format, previously considered with Two Evil Eyes and Allegro Non Troppo. The ones that certainly rate weakest and strongest are the opening and the finale, which most seem to agree on, so I won’t say more than I have. Of the rest, however, I find even the segments that usually get the praise don’t quite meet their potential. “Wish You Were Here”, for instance, relies on altogether contrived references to “The Monkey’s Paw” for its exposition. By comparison, “Poetic Justice” is at least ahead of its time with a vision of “stranger danger” and homeowners’ association intrigues, though to me Cushing just kind of breaks even. For me, the absolute standout is “Reflections of Death”. Sure, it’s predictable even for the 1950s, but the execution far exceeds an already satisfactory premise, with the key scenes shot from the revenant’s perspective. There’s still a decent twist with the reappearance of Susan (played by Angela Grant), as eerily poised as Magee and the blind men in the final segment. Then the problem throughout is that it just looks and feels cheap if not rushed. To me, this shows especially in the opening and closing music. It’s one thing to rely on an arguably overused piece; it’s another to use a hopelessly tinny recording that sounds like 20 generations of transfer static. I can’t believe they even saved real money; it’s more like they gave the job to someone who never bothered to listen to more than one recording.

That leaves us with the “one scene”. I’ve already gone through multiple shots and segments that would be worthy of the honor. The one thing I haven’t covered in depth is Richardson, familiar to me from his late turn as Ulrich in Dragonslayer. He gives a superbly ghoulish performance, necessarily fragmented across the film. I debated whether it would be possible to isolate just one piece in the usual fashion. Once I had the idea, however, I quickly noted one particular point, bridging the first segment with “Reflections”. After narrating the fate of Collins’ character, we find her counterpart among the visitors vaguely protesting, even as she rubs her throat uncomfortably. The Cryptkeeper then turns to the next sinner, played by TV/ character actor Ian Hendry (d. 1984). It’s here that the monk first questions whether any of our antiheros really remember how they ended up in the catacombs. When called out, the man reflexively answers, “I’m on my way home to my wife and children.” The monk challenges him, almost bemused: “And then?... And then?” It’s a matter of a minute or less, even with the framing factored in, but these few words are a high point if not the finest moment of a cracking performance from a fine actor.

In closing, what I come to isn’t so much the rating, but how the film compares with others I have mentioned, which has ultimately been as big a consideration as any in my final rating. Of all the official, informal and arguable EC films, there never was any doubt that Creepshow is the “best” by any objective appraisal. However, I could have rated this one as highly with my usual handicapping in effect. What really put Creepshow ahead are its budget and improved technology, plus the participation of Stephen King, which obviously can’t be held against any other film. But on consideration, there is one movie I would definitely rank ahead, and it’s this movie’s own sequel, Vault of Horror. Of course, I can’t give my reasons in full without another review I’m not yet prepared to do. It will suffice to say that, where the second film has segments that don’t hold up on their own or by comparison, it also has several that are at least as good as anything in Tales or even Creepshow. (I will name-drop the segments featuring Terry Thomas and Tom Baker.) The further fact that Vault was released only a year later is to me the surest proof that the present film could have been better. It may remain the original and the “classic”, but its real accomplishment was laying the way for better things. In the proverbial light of day, that’s credit enough, and with that, I can count this done.

Image credit Movies And Mania.

Super Movies 2-Parter! The one with Andre the Giant in a creature suit

 

Title: Conan the Destroyer

What Year?: 1984

Classification: Weird Sequel

Rating: That’s Good! (4/4)

 

With this review, I’m finally pulling the count for this feature to 20, and it’s time for the other half of a two-part review. Last time, I covered the awkward oddity that was Conan the Barbarian. Now, we have the sequel, which was previously the subject of a soundtrack review. To me, it’s not just the one I like better, but what a Conan movie should have been all along, whether or not that was really a good idea. Here is Conan the Destroyer, the one that put Andre the Giant in a suit by the guy who made E.T. and the Alien.

Our story begins with a montage of riders against a red sky, sent to intercept Conan and his companion, a lesser thief named Malak. After Conan decimates the warriors, a ruler named Queen Taramis arrives with an offer (39-year-old spoiler): To raise Conan’s lost love Valeria, if he can retrieve an artifact called the Horn of Dagoth. His quest proves to be more of an escort mission, accompanying the maiden Princess Jehnna and her guardian Bombaata. To unlock the horn, the princess must first retrieve a magic gem from a sorcerer’s island palace, then use it to unlock an ancient treasure house where the Horn is kept. But the Queen’s real plan is to revive a chthonic deity, with Jehnna as the sacrifice, and of course, Conan and his rogues are set up to take the fall. It’s up to Conan to save Jehnna and send Dagoth back to the netherworld, or the god will bring death to the world!

Conan the Destroyer was the 1984 sequel to Conan the Barbarian, again produced by the Dino De Laurentiis Company. Roy Thomas, a writer for the Marvel Conan comics, received credit for the story. Arnold Schwarzenegger returned as Conan, with Mako reprising his role as the wizard Akiro and Olivia D’Abo in her debut as Jehnna. The supporting cast included Sarah Douglas as Taramis, Tracey Walter as Malak, Grace Jones of A View To Kill as Zula, and Wilt Chamberlain in his only starring role as Bombaata. Basil Poledouris returned with an original score including a new theme. The effects crew included the late Carlo Rambaldi, who created a practical-effects suit for Dagoth. Andre the Giant made an uncredited appearance as the creature. The film was released with a PG rating, after controversial cuts for violence and possibly nudity. It received mixed reviews, with critics divided on further comparisons with the first movie. Its profitability remains uncertain; by the most detailed accounts, it received a US box office of up to $31 million against an $18M budget, and may have earned more in other markets. In 1990, Thomas and Gerry Conway published a comic The Horn of Azoth that Thomas maintained was closer to his original story proposal. The movie has remained available on TV and home video. All known video releases are based on the theatrical cut of the film.

For my experiences, this movie, or at least the end of it, was my introduction not just to the franchise but to 1980s epic fantasy in general. What stands out is that I have repeatedly seen it used as an axiomatic example of failure. People say it was inferior to the original. People say it was a box office bomb, an assessment even I casually accepted. I’ve even seen people trash talk the effects, including the Dagoth suit. (One more further recollection I have is posting Mr. Rambaldi’s obituary on social media.) To me, this has come to feel like talking about two different movies. As I acknowledged in the previous review, the original movie had its good points, including elements of Howard’s themes that usually get lost in more routine fair. But this movie has more than enough to stand both on its own merits and as a valid take on the source material.

Moving to the movie itself, it can be acknowledged from the start that the movie is at face value very much in what would conventionally be called “so bad it’s good” territory. The acting is uneven at best. The dialogue hovers between passable and intentionally comical. The straightforward plot still presents several impressive holes, including the undeveloped backstory of a faction that apparently had the central maguffin all along. But these problems correspond to objective strengths. The cast are suited to their roles, with Douglas (see The PeopleThat Time Forgot) and Jones being the strongest performers. The lines that make people laugh, especially from Conan and Malak, are generally intended to be funny. (I’m still not sure what to make of Chamberlain’s absolutely deadpan pledge to defend the princess’s virtue, which I suppose might have been written before the casting was settled.) Most significantly, the story is fast-paced enough that none of it invites overly detailed scrutiny, a difference from the previous film that is far more pronounced than the already substantial difference in running time can account for.

Meanwhile, the part I find stands out after this much time is the effects work. Even for the early to mid-1980s, this looks middling budget and perhaps a bit on the willfully “retro” side. The obvious high point is the Dagoth suit, which I count as easily among the very best of its kind. It’s slow, and the fact that the guy inside was neither an experienced suit man nor a distinguished actor is quite clear. However, the thing is certainly well-used, interacting with the cast and environment on a level that neither CGI nor old-school stop-motion could easily achieve, and the lumbering movements give a real sense both of weight and the disorientation of a being in an unfamiliar environment. On top of that, the  gruesome design and prophesied powers are more Lovecraftian than most actual adaptations of Howard’s most distinguished colleague. But what really sticks and gradually digs in are the palace sequences in the middle act, accomplished mostly with animation, matte paintings and additional optical effects. The part that “works” is the striking level of stylization, which reaches the transcendent level of a different artform rather than outdated technology. It culminates in the surreal hall-of-mirrors fight, augmented by an inspired burst from the score, which I have been very close to giving the “one scene” nod. I pass over it now solely because it is of a piece with events before and after, not something that can be considered easily in isolation.

Now for the “one scene” itself, I decided I had to go a little further into the Dagoth sequence. At the start of the finale, Jehnna is entrusted to place the Horn in the forehead of an idol that embodies the god. The movements of the princess are unsettling in themselves; she seems either hypnotized, drugged, or simply resigned to her fate. Then there is the placement of the Horn, which leads to an uncharacteristically vague scale despite the fact that we have seen the Horn in human hands. The idol seems larger than life-sized, or the horn would fill most of its quite human face, yet the horn still seems disproportionately large. A priest from the cult of Dagoth intones that the sacrifice must take place as soon as the god shows signs of life if it is to be controlled, and the ironic part is that for all we will see, he could be right. Sure enough, the statue begins to move, still all practical, while the priest still takes plenty of time to strike a pose. As the plan goes awry, we get one more glimpse of the idol, already transforming yet all the more hideous for its lingering semblance of humanity. It’s a debatable moment, unquestionable in its overall effectiveness, and in that, it perfectly embodies the film.

In closing, I find myself lingering not on the rating or the present movie but on this feature. It’s now my longest-running feature, which got its first review around Thanksgiving last year. I haven’t done nearly as much with it as I have with my other features, but it has been very meaningful to me. If it comes to that, it’s what brought me to some of the very best movies I’ve reviewed (conspicuously Hancock, Creepshow and They Live). Looking forward, I’m not quite ready to say I’m retiring this feature. I do feel I’ve reached a kind of completeness, enough that any further installments probably won’t come for a while yet. For now, I am once again moving on for another day, and glad to end on a high note.

Super Movies 2-Parter! The one with Arnold

 

Title: Conan the Barbarian

What Year?: 1982

Classification: Irreproducible Oddity/ Mashup

Rating: What The Hell??? (2/4)

 

As I write this, it’s now just over a year since I started this feature, and I’m once again thinking about what I still want to do before ending it. That brought me to a larger project I have considered for a long time, and I decided it was time. This will be not one but two reviews, of a series I have dealt with before (including a soundtrack review). It is worth further note as a property that was never “officially” based on a comic, but attracted a great deal of suspicion then and since. I present the first part, none other than Conan the Barbarian, and this is the one that kept me from doing this for so long.

Our story begins with the forging of a sword, by a technique that has enraged blacksmiths for decades. We then meet a tribe that worships steel and the strange god Crom, who in short order are massacred by invaders bearing the sign of twin snakes. The sole survivor is a boy who goes from slavery to mercenary to a thief in the splendid cities of the Hyborian Age. In the course of his adventures, he gathers a band of rogues including a lady named Valeria, who quickly becomes his lover. He also runs afoul of the cult of Set, the same snake-worshippers who killed his family, and their leader, a charismatic sorcerer named Thulsa Doom. When a king reveals that his own daughter has joined the cult, Conan accepts a mission to bring back the wayward princess. But the quest will carry a terrible price, leaving Conan with the ungrateful rescuee in tow and the raiders of Thulsa Doom in pursuit. When the rogues make their final stand in an ancient burial ground, even Conan may be outmatched- unless the dead come to his aid!

Conan the Barbarian was a 1982 “sword and sorcery” film produced by the Dino De Laurentiis operation (see… Maximum Overdrive?), directed by John Milius from a script cowritten with Oliver Stone. The film was based on the character and stories created by Robert E. Howard for the horror/ fantasy pulp Weird Tales. Many believed it was influenced directly by the Marvel comics Conan the Barbarian and Savage Sword of Conan. The film starred Arnold Schwarzenegger as the title character and Sandahl Bergman as Valeria, with James Earl Jones as Thulsa Doom. Other cast included Mako as the wizard, Max Von Sydow (see FlashGordon) as King Osric and Valerie Quennessen as the princess. Basil Poledouris scored the film, and the sequel Conan the Destroyer. The composer also scored the. The film was released around the middle of a wave of fantasy films of the early to mid-1980s, which also included Dragonslayer,Krull and The Black Cauldron. Unlike many such films, it was inarguably profitable, earning up to $79.1 million against a $20M budget. Schwarzenegger and Mako returned for Conan the Destroyer, which otherwise had little overlap with the first movie. Quennessen became best known for Conan and the romantic comedy Summer Lovers, also scored by Poledouris, released the same year. The actress died in a traffic accident in 1989 at age 31.

For my experiences, my strongest memory of the franchise is that I saw Conan the Destroyer, or the end of it, on 1990s TV, which I will get to. To my further recollections, I finally watched the movies in full around the time I was really discovering Howard. What came to my mind during the viewings for this review is that the first movie in particular is very much like Howard, yet quite different from the Conan stories or any other incarnation of the character. Particularly noteworthy is the grim, almost humorless mood, in many ways closer to the strange saga of Kull than anything else. (Of course I know that’s where Thulsa Doom came from.) Also noteworthy is the quite limited role of monsters, magic and other fantasy shenanigans, which almost puts this on the vein of otherwise “straight” Howard adventures like “By This Axe I Rule!” The problem, at least for me, is that the final product feels ponderous if not pompous rather than epic, ultimately belying even the “so bad it’s good” reputation of the film. I can’t say it’s bad, but I don’t get it, and there’s way too much material here that I do like for that to be just me.

Moving forward, most of the easy targets here involve the origin story given for Conan, which is one thing Howard never did with any of his major characters. In fact, it actually does pretty well at introducing the characters and the assumed world. The one thing that is jarring is the introduction of Jones, which isn’t help by the fact that the makeup and lighting seem chosen to make him look as “white” as possible. We also get completely surreal moments like the encounter with a literal witch, and some monster action with a giant snake in the temple of Set. The movie gets in gear as the cult comes to the front, with homages to several of the finest Conan stories, especially “Queen of the Black Coast” and “A Witch Shall Be Born”. There’s also an underrated arc with the princess, which I will admit I didn’t notice before the current viewing. Quennessen provides impressive screen presence in the role even without much to do, especially in the temple scene where she first appears. I personally took enough notice to do much of the research here by the time the credits ran.

On the “con” side, I’ve already done the best I can to explain the issues I find with the movie. If there’s one “obvious” issue I haven’t gotten to yet, it’s that the movie is so long, almost half an hour longer than Conan the Destroyer. What makes matters far worse is the strange pacing and the further absence of a coherent message or theme. There’s plenty of movies at least as long that “work”, particularly Apocalypse Now, which the present film in fact seems to try to emulate in long stretches, and Aliens. But this movie doesn’t have the thematic complexity of Coppola’s film, and it certainly doesn’t have the fast-paced action of James Cameron. Indeed, the action scenes that do occur are as oddly static as an actual comic book, with only the palace free-for-all mustering sustained energy. As for any ambitions of “message”, the closest we get to a payoff is the simple contrast between the fanaticism of the cult and Conan’s pragmatic view of his own indifferent god Crom. (Now that I think about it, this must have had a little influence on my own character Carlos Wrzniewski.) It all culminates in the not quite comical prayer before the final battle, which really does sound like something Howard would have written for the character.

Now for the “one scene”, I had to go with one that has Jones onscreen. After Conan’s first attempt to infiltrate the cult, he is captured by Thulsa Doom, and the two characters have their one extended exchange. Thulsa Doom vents about Conan’s depredations, concluding with hilarious inflection, “You killed my snake.” Conan furiously accuses the sorcerer of killing his tribe, to which Doom merely muses that he valued weaponry in his youth. He continues with a discourse on the power of human flesh and spirit. In the middle of it all, he calls out to one of his followers far above, in a soft and fatherly tone. What follows could have been played as comical or terrifying, but instead, we get the film’s deadpan film as the camera follows the cultist’s fate, complete with a shot of the resulting hole in the floor. It’s a bizarre moment in a very odd film, and on this occasion, it really works.

In closing, I come as usual to the rating. I honestly considered giving this film a lower rating than I have. If not for certain better points, especially the Poledouris music (see my Starship Troopers soundtrack review for comparison), I might have. After a fresh and somewhat more careful viewing, I’m satisfied that the middle is where it belongs. What continues to baffle me isn’t that so many people clearly like this movie better than I do, but that few if any talk about just so odd it is.  It is ultimately the weird factor that keeps me from coming down harder than I have. I don’t get it, but it gets my respect. With that, I’m done with this one, and I’m actually looking forward to what’s next.