Fiction: The Evil Possum vs Godzilla??

 It's my day off, and I didn't really get anything done, so I'm going with something I just fished out along with the Percy demo, the most epic of the incomplete adventures of No-Hands the Evil Possum, Needless to say, it's a kaiju movie parody, featuring Nickolas O'Leary the rat in his original incarnation and one more character who never quite got developed. I wrote all of this out around 2004, along with a lot more material for Percy and other characters in the original mythos. This is about half of what I can find; the rest really gets gnarly. While I'm at it, here's the link for the post with my master index for the Evil Possum adventures.

No-Hands’ halftrack rolled over a waste of cracked and crumbling concrete.  In the days when another, much larger species had ruled the Earth, it had been a freeway.  “We will reach the hostile spaceship in a few hours,” No-Hands said.  “But we shall have to gain information on the land around it from people who know the area.  HALT!” he shouted to the driver.  He then addressed a concrete outcropping:  “Usted!  Donde esta su pueblo?”

            A dwarf hamster ran away from his shelter like a fuzzy lightning bolt.  “AIEE!  Es el Diablo Sin Mano Derecho!”

            No-Hands snorted in annoyance.  “I shall have to follow him to his village and ask for directions there.  It will not take long, but it will require a certain amount of stealth and skill,” he said.  He turned to Nick.  “You wait here.”

            After No-Hands was gone, Nick climbed out of the half-track’s bed and spoke hesitantly to the driver.  “So, uh, what’s your name?”

            “Anja,” the driver responded without looking at him.  The voice sounded female.

            After a long moment of silence, Nick tried to continue the conversation.  “And, um, how  long have you been working for No-Hands?”

            She  turned and looked him squarely in the eye.  Nick flinched.  “Work for him?

I’m his WIFE.”

            There was a nervous moment of silence.  Nick furtively studied Anja.  She had the same high forehead and shortened snout that set No-Hands apart from other possums.  However, she was shorter (about 7 inches, versus No-Hands’ 8) and much more lightly built.  The fur of her  scalp was styled in a short, spiky hair cut.  “You’re one of his species,” he said.

            “Of course.”

            “Well, I, uh, thought he was the only one of his kind,” Nick said.  “That’s what everybody thinks.”

            “But for me, that misconception would probably be right,” Anja said.

            “What species are you?” Nick asked. 

            “Our species is called Archididelphis invicta,” Anja said.  “It means `unconquered  possum king’. Are you familiar with the lost Colossus of Maru?” Nick shook his head.  “That is the oldest evidence of our species.  It was made at least 3,000 years ago, and intentionally destroyed 700 years ago.  It was a 10-foot tall figure, seated on a throne of skulls.  The inscription at its base, which is the only part still around, reads `the unconquered king’.  No one knows who or what it was meant to represent, but illustrations of it clearly show that it was based on a member of our race.  Hence, our name.”

            “What happened to the rest of your species?”

            “No one knows,” Anja said.  “But it is clear from archaeological evidence that we were never many in number.   Over time, the numbers gradually dwindled.  Before Hubert turned up, those who studied us believed we had been extinct for two hundred years.”

            "`Hubert'???"

            "That is what I call my husband," she said.  "It was the name he wrote on the certificate when we were married.  I don't know why.  If anyone but me ever addresses him by that name, that person will die."

            “What were the other possums like?” Nick asked.

            “Our behavior varied, as it does with all races,” Anja said.  “But there were two types: solitary and gregarious.”

            “I see,” Nick said with a nod.

            “No, you do not.  Hubert and I are both of the gregarious type.  The solitary ones would not tolerate the company of any other being, not even each other save for the impulse to breed came upon them. They would not go anywhere near a city or village, and any wandering traveler who came to close to one of their burrows would most likely not return.  They were never seen alive by civilized vermin. To the world at large, they were known only by legends of unseen terror.

            “But the gregarious ones had enough of a social nature to enter populated areas and associate with other beings.  The ones that turn up in villages were invariably juveniles with no name and no knowledge of where they had come from.  That's how I was found, and of course that's how my husband was when they found him in the ruins of Jonesville.    Usually, the newcomer would stay in a village for a few days or a few weeks, and then disappear, never to be seen again.  But a few would stay, and learn the ways of civilization, and they would thrive.  They became great warriors, kings, master craftsmen and even artists."

            “How did you and No-Hands meet?” Nick asked. 

            “We met in the Monastery of Veritas, hundreds of miles from here.” Anja said.  “I had been a member of the order almost since my discovery.  The villagers who found me had me shipped to the monastery at public expense.  I learned to work metals and make machines, and made the monastery renowned throughout the land.  But the monks concealed me from the world, at my own request.  I wanted no visitors.  All I cared for was strong metals and fine machines.

            "No-Hands came to the monastery five years after the Jonesville Massacre.  The monks had hired him to defend the monastery from gerbil raiders.  The monks had been fending off gerbil attacks for generations, but when the raiders obtained machine guns and tanks, they decided it was time to get outside help.  In exchange for his services, they offered him the finest mechanical limbs that vermin could build."

            “I guess that job really cost them an arm on a leg,” Nick said with a nervous laugh. 

            Anja showed no reaction to the feeble joke.  As she continued, a dreamy tone crept into her voice. "We first met when I installed his hand.  Neither of us had known that another of our kind existed.  The whole time, he stared at me.  I was deathly afraid, and excited at the same time, but I knew not to let it show.  After I had attached the hand, he reached out and cupped my face in those three metal fingers.  From that moment on, I was no longer afraid.  We looked into each others' eyes- this was a long time before he lost his right eye- for a long time.  Then he said, `I see that you trust your own workmanship.  I shall return that trust.  When I have returned, come with me, and we shall see what we can make together.'  Then he walked out of the room and out of the monastery.  A few hours later, the gerbils were gone."

           

            No-Hands pulled the tarp off the object in the bed of the half-track.  It proved to be a mounted 9 mm flak gun.  “This is a two-person weapon, and the reason you are here.  You will help load shells into the cannon.  The shells are over there, clearly marked.  When I ask for something, give it to me immediately,” he said.  He bellowed at Anja, “LEFT!”

            Nick scowled.  “You could address her by name, you know.”

            “Why?” No-Hands said in genuine puzzlement.  “She knows who she is.”

            Anja braked abruptly.  The end of the miniature gulch they were traveling through was blocked by an enormous, owl-like face.  An eye as wide as the halftrack peered in.  “AP!” No-Hands shouted.

            Nick picked up the nearest shell.  “That is an HE shell,” No-Hands said without looking.  Nick dropped it and picked up another shell, marked “AP”.  By the time he had it loaded into the gun, the face had  vanished.  “It must have run away,” Nick said.

            “Unlikely,” No-Hands said.  “Full reverse!”  Anja backed up the halftrack, just in time to dodge a huge tiger’s paw that slammed down in the middle of the gulch.  No-Hands fired, striking the paw.  The maimed monster flew away, shrieking all the while.

            “More will come,” No-Hands said.  He briefly consulted his map.  “Back up and take course number 3!”  The halftrack made a short, very bumpy trip backward.  No-Hands had to grab Nick to keep him from being thrown off.  Then Anja drove into a sewer pipe at full speed.  The vehicle rode up and down the circumference of the pipe like a skateboard

            “I think I’m gonna be sick,” Nick said.

            “Do not worry,” No-Hands said.  “Your species is incapable of regurgitation.”

            “Oh,” Nick said.  He held on tight as the halftrack went up yet again.  “Actually, it would be kind of a relief to get sick.”

            The halftrack flew out of the pipe and landed tracks-first in a bed of gravel.  Anja turned sharply left, almost throwing the vehicle on its side in the process.  “Ugh.  Now I’m feeling hot,” Nick said.  “I think I have a fever.”

            “It grows hot because something is bombarding the area with a flame thrower!” No-Hands said.  “It is time to face our attackers.  Load another AP shell. Anja- move us to high ground!”

            The half-track roared up a steep and rocky slope.  A short distance away, a bipedal reptilian monster more than 10 feet tall turned to look at it.  It prepared to spray the vermin with a belch of fire, but No-Hands fired first.  An armor-piercing bullet pierced its throat and ignited the flammable liquid that it was about to use against the vermin.  The monster exploded, destroyed by its own flame.

            However, two more monsters, one on foot and one in the air, moved toward the halftrack.  An energy beam struck the ground a few feet away, melting gravel into glass.  “SMOKE!!!” No-Hands roared.  After an instant of hesitation, Nick handed him a pack of cigarettes.  No-Hands’ cold, silent stare conveyed more wrath than any words.

            Nick glanced guiltily at the shell rack.  “Oh.  Um.  Did you mean one of these shells marked `smoke'?”

            "Yes, but never mind," No-Hands said.  "Give me an HE shell."  Nick dutifully reloaded.  No-Hands fired at an airborne dragon.  The high-explosive shell was too light to kill the dragon, but it damaged a wing and sent the dragon tumbling to the ground.  "AP!"  With his next shot, he felled a primate in a diving helmet, the monster which had fired the energy beam. 

            "Wow!" Nick exclaimed.  "What's in those shells?"

            "They are made of a substance called uranium," No-Hands said.  "NOW give me a smoke shell."  He turned the gun around and fired behind him.  The resulting cloud of smoke revealed an otherwise invisible monster behind them.  The shape of the monster was impossible to discern, but it was clearly at least ten feet tall.  Without any prompting, Nick loaded an AP shell. The monster charged through the smoke with the thundering of an uncertain but disconcertingly large number of feet.  No-Hands fired, just in time.  The pounding of feet stopped.  For a moment, the blue shell seemed to hang in mid-air barely 10 yards from the halftrack.  Then, with an eerie howl, the monster fell.  The impact of its body lifted the halftrack into the air.

            "Look!" Nick shouted.  "A flower!" No-Hands turned the gun without looking up from the sight.  Almost 100 yards away, an enormous, unpleasantly textured blossom was rising up like a snake.

            "The range is extreme, but it can be done," he said.  "Incendiary!"  As Nick loaded the shell, the blossom burst open.  With a thunderous popopopopopopop, it launched a cloud of feathery seeds into the air.  Six more blossoms rose up beside it.  One was larger than all the others put together.  No-Hands fired the incendiary shell at the largest blossom, striking it just as it opened.  It exploded in a giant fireball, spraying burning seeds and chunks of rubbery plant matter  everywhere.  The entire plant was in flames, but the intact blossoms continued to spray seeds.  "We must get out of here!" No-Hands shouted.

            "Yeah," Nick said, "I'm allergic to pollen."

            Anja drove away at full speed.  One of the pea-sized seeds landed on the hood of the halftrack.   It immediately sprouted tendrils that bored into the metal.  Anja drew a flare pistol and killed the deadly seedling without comment.  

            "I fear that our best route has just been blocked," No-Hands said.  Tiny plants were sprouting everywhere the seeds landed.  Their thrashing tendrils pulverized the concrete.  Driving over them was obviously out of the question.  From the other direction, a battalion of two-foot-long ants and 12 larger monsters were approaching.  No-Hands sighed.  "It seems that I have been outthought and outmaneuvered.  It is no longer possible to reach the ship by stealth, and the chances of reaching it by force are too slim to consider. However, I have a contingency plan which may allow at least one of us to enter the ship."

            "So, what is the plan?" Nick asked.

            "Pique the curiosity of the beings aboard the ship," No-Hands said.  "If we kill enough of their monsters, they may try to study us."

No Good Very Bad Movies Countdown! The one where a boy from Mars is almost killed by his girlfriend

 

Title: The Space Between Us

What Year?: 2017

Classification: Mashup

Rating: Who Cares??? (2/3)

 

With this review, I’m going into a new phase of this feature, which I have reflected by changing the numbering. I decided it was time for a reboot, and from here on in, it’s no more Mr. Nice Guy. I am going for no less than a lineup of the actual worsts, and my key criterion is that they are all going to be the worst of something, be it genres, trends, or more specific subniches. What will further set these apart is that many if not most are going to be from well within the current millennium, thus representing some of the most hated and ridiculed developments of modern cinema. There was no better choice to start with than a good old alleged teen romance, a genre that hovers just above self-parody to begin with, and I had one in mind that is definitely as egregious an example as you can get. I present The Space Between Us, and it’s so dumb I literally assumed there had to be a YA novel behind it until my investigations proved otherwise.

Our story begins with an expedition to colonize Mars, sponsored by a Musk/ Bezos analog, with a spunky lady astronaut as commander. The mission runs into a hitch when it turns out she came down with a baby before leaving Earth. Alas, she dies in childbirth, and for various contradictory and equally illogical reasons, the tycoon and the space program suits cover it up. Skip forward, and we meet her son, a 16-year-old boy named Gardner, raised in secrecy from everyone but the dozens and hundreds of experts keeping him alive. The scientists are debating whether they can bring him back to Earth for normal human contact, notwithstanding completely justified predictions that the Terran environment will kill him. Meanwhile, Gardner has made a friend, a girl named Tulsa who has no idea who he is. On his return to Earth, Gardner escapes to meet up with Tulsa, who freely helps him stay ahead of his guardians and doctors. The chase becomes a quest for love and acceptance as he searches for his real father- and is there any chance they won’t hook up?

The Space Between Us was a 2017 film directed by Peter Chelsom from a script by Allen Loeb. The film was developed by Relativity Media, reportedly from a story proposed in 1999. The film starred Asa Butterfield and Britt Robertson, with Gary Oldman as the billionaire Nathaniel Shepherd. It was filmed beginning in late 2015, with a release by STX Entertainment planned for 2016. After several postponements, it was released in February 17. It received mixed to unfavorable reviews and was a commercial failure, earning $16 million against a $30M budget.

For my experiences, I skipped ahead straight to my big rant, the pointless conspiracy-theory angle, which would make even less sense if they were trying to fool their backing governments. (Though, there are suspiciously detailed analyses of things official sources insist have never happened in space…) What somewhat interested me right off the bat is how much more fascinating the story would be without it. If Gardner was known to the public, he would be a celebrity just for existing (and a fundraising pinata), and his life would probably be even more miserable than what we see. He wouldn’t just be living in the bubble with cameras and sensors everywhere. His entire life from infancy to early adulthood would be on video and possibly on the internet. On top of that, he would have little chance of interacting with someone who didn’t have an angle, from journalists to conspiracy theorists trying to prove that he didn’t exist. The one thing that would absolutely make sense is that he would prefer to hide his identity from someone he had a real connection with.

Moving forward, the thing that stands out is that the science here isn’t “that” bad, especially considering that it came from “mainstream” creators. (See my rant under When Worlds Collide...) It may be on the arm-waving level, but it still offers sensible answers to important questions we probably won’t really figure out until and unless the events portrayed become reality. Just as importantly, the film rarely if ever contradicts or ignores a previously established point for simple story convenience, though by the end, its solutions would be just as likely to kill the non-Terran anyway. The real problem is that there’s little if any effort to show how any changes on Earth. The state of technology is not just unchanged but in some cases seemingly out of date (not even counting the biplane), almost more like an alternate-universe 1999 than our own future. (The wonky tech actually kind of mitigates the unacknowledged problem of lightspeed lag, which wouldn’t be that big an issue for old-school email.) The most curious plot hole is that we never hear any of the Earthbound civilians talk about the Mars colony spontaneously; in fact, Tulsa doesn’t even acknowledge it when Gardner insists he is from there. This would suggest that the public is already growing skeptical of the venture, perhaps to the point of spinning theories that the whole thing is fake, or else her character in particular is oblivious to it… and as we’ll see in a moment, she does not need another strike against her.

That leaves the romance angle, and this is where I maintain the movie is truly in “worst” territory. The easy shot out of the gate is that Ms. Robertson would have been 25 at the start of filming, except she doesn’t really look so far off that it becomes distracting. What doesn’t help is that her character is at best an increasingly generic spunky-princess type, and at worst a miscreant with a man-child fetish. All of those issues still fall far short of the dysfunctionality of their relationship, which is a perfect storm of ableism and reverse chauvinism. Gardner absolutely cannot handle himself on Earth, physically, socially or emotionally, and Tulsa certainly knows this. Factor in her gray-area morals and vastly greater experience, and they are as compatible as Frosty the Snowman and the Human Torch.  But they are supposed to be in love, and society and the media still accept a male defying authority to prove he is independent and manly even if his mental age is “call SVU now” and he could easily get himself literally dead. The bottom line, the only more incompatible couple I can think of in all my reviews would be the lesbians from Prey (which would definitely be in this lineup if I hadn’t gotten to it long ago), and they were at least supposed to be messed up. And somewhere in the night, an Evil Possum is screaming…

Now for the “one scene”, I’m going with the one I rewound the most. Just a little into the movie, we get a view of the outside of the colony that definitely looks expensive. Then we come to Gardner and a robot called I think Centauri, who does indeed look like a human torso crossed with a tracked chassis. There’s some good dialogue between the pair that I can’t quite recount, in which the robot sets off the usual arguments about AI by insisting its feelings are hurt. Meanwhile, Gardner watches a movie that looks to be from the 1950s or so as if it was his best source for what things are like on Earth, while he complains that he only ever meets scientists. It all builds up to what is clearly only his latest mischief, in which the disabled and indignant bot is left behind. It’s a very effective introduction to the character, his background and his world, and it’s far more interesting than any of his subsequent adventures.

In closing, I’m back to the rating. This was another movie I actually brought up a rating. It is also, however, another movie where this was not really a verdict in the film’s favor. On a certain level, if this movie really deserved the lowest rating, I probably wouldn’t even have bothered to watch it. I will even admit that it manages a real charm, in stretches. In the proverbial light of day, however, the one thing that stayed my hand is that even I can tell that this is anything but unique. And that gets to one more rant that was a major reason I covered it at all: When people do “worst” movies lists, the emphasis is always on genre films, but I don’t buy for a moment that this is because SF/ fantasy/ horror movies are uniquely prone to badness. I posit that the real difference is that these attract the kind of fandom that remembers and preserves the bad along with the good. You can see the difference especially in a film like this, a crossover that failed in its own time and was quickly and conveniently forgotten by the respectable mainstream, but hardcore genre completists like me haven’t let it slip into the night. This is indeed bad, not because it dragged in sci fi but because its mainstream influences were at least as formulaic, and we will not forget it. With that, I’m calling it good enough, because things can still get a lot worse.

Fiction: Percy the robot cop long lost demo!

 It's time for the last post of the off-week, and to keep up with other things, I decided I needed something I could fish out. As it happened, I just happened upon something I had been looking for on and off for a while, a very early demo for Percy the robot cop, an ancient idea built around a terrible joke about a song that is a bit creepy if you think about it. So, here it is, along with a spicier bit with Wes and Daisy. And heck, here's links for first and last chapters of the Evil Possum Vs The Eurypterids.

The police station was nearly empty when the newcomer came through the door. The hinges squeaked as it shut behind him. He looked timidly over his shoulder, and with a nervous cough gave the door an extra push to make it latch. When he turned back, his features were clearly revealed: blue eyes, bright pink skin, and a short proboscis that quivered as he approached the desk. “Umm,” he said, “I’m not sure if I’ve come to the right place…”

The figure behind the desk leaned forward. His features were like that of a man, but a dully glowing visor covered his eyes, and his slightly stubby fingers were of segmented metal. “Well, I’m sure you’re not in the wrong place,” he said. As he spoke, the glow from his visor seemed to get a little brighter. “Sit down and tell me why you came… Ah, and you can call me Percy.”

The newcomer sat, and the quivering of his nose subsided to a steady twitch. “Well, see, I have a neighbor named Henry… and he’s getting married to the lady next door…”

The officer at the desk leaned back. “Indeed.” The few other officers remaining began to gather around.

“So, it turns out she’s a widow… In fact, she’s been married seven times before.”

Percy steepled his fingers. “I see…”

“The funny thing is,” the newcomer said, clearly gaining confidence, “every one was named Henry…”

“Henry.” Percy’s visor gleamed brighter

“That’s right, and now my neighbor’s Henry the Eighth.”

“Yes, he is… he is.” Percy opened a tablet and keyboard. “Now, do you happen to know how often she’s been widowed before?”

“Ummm…”

A hemispherical light popped out of the top of Percy’s helmet as he turned to the nearest officer. “Let’s roll.”

* * *

It was another Moral Contraband night. Hector the giant echidna sat down with Percy on the couch, carrying a bowl of fried seafood. Daisy and Wes sat to one side, in separate chairs but holding hands, while a nervous male human rookie sat as far from her as possible. Percy opened a bottle and surveyed the latest confiscated films. “Black Pudding, Le Coucher de la Mariee… huh, this is different. Monotreme On Monotreme On Monotreme.” He turned to Hector. “Must be imported from your home, or else somebody managed to make it here.” Hector gripped the disk in his clawed paw, and gave a gesture of mild interest.

Percy put the disc on. It opened with a horrid screech of seemingly tuneless music. Percy turned the volume down. The music gave way to the sound of snuffling and whistling of the kind Hector made himself. “Okay,” Percy said, “that’s interesting…” He turned to a suinomorph eying his bottle. “I wouldn’t drink that, it’s not so much liquor as fuel. Whoa, WHOA!” The whistles grew higher pitched. Wes and Daisy stopped holding hands. Percy scooted slightly to the right.

“Damn,” he said to Hector. “You don’t do that, do you?  I mean, obviously you’ve got the equipment, but I’ve met your  wife,  and the kids…” Hector shrugged and crunched a scallop with his vestigial teeth.

“Well, we tried something like that,” Daisy said. She patted Wes on the arm.

“I don’t want you to touch me right now,” he said.

“That’s it,” Percy said after a few more minutes. “I’m gonna have  to wipe my memory to get over this. Might as well go with a classic…”

He took out a legal but sensitive Physical Therapeutics education film. The audience cheered as the first images appeared, digitally animated figures not much more detailed than mannequins but amazingly lifelike in their motions.  It was evident that there were several discrete couples, including a woman in the early but quite visible stages of pregnancy. A female narrator spoke: “As you explore, you will feel strange thoughts and new desires. You and your partner may experience discomfort, embarrassment and even shame from an unexpected inhibitions or uncharacteristic momentary lapses in self control.” The screen showed the pregnant woman push her partner to the therapy mat as he tried to withdraw, bringing a cheer from the audience.

“That doesn’t look momentary to me,” Daisy said. Hector honked agreement.

The nervous rookie leaned in and whispered, “This is way more… detailed than anything I’ve seen. How do you think they did it? And why… her?” He pointed to the pregnant woman.

“I read about it,” Percy said. “It’s motion capture. Ten, twelve years back, Domestic Services recruited a few couples to do sessions in a 3-D scanner. They say they were all Department employees, and their domestic partners, of course…”

“Yeah,” Daisy chimed in. “And I heard they were going to edit the preg-o lady’s belly out, but she threatened to file a complaint with the Standards And Fairness board.”

“That voice,” Percy muttered as the narration continued, “I know that voice…” It was at that moment that the door opened. He turned to see Chelsea O’Keefe, a former Domestic Services worker and already one of the most distinguished rookies.

“Special Inspector Percy,” the blue-haired woman said, “what the Hell are you doing?”

“Okay, this isn’t what it looks like,” Percy said as he got to his feet. He glanced at the screen and amended, “Okay, this is exactly what it looks like.”

The nervous rookie, who had looked ready to faint at the arrival of another female, suddenly spoke up: “The voice! It’s-!” 

That was when Percy drew a stun pistol and shot him.

Animation Defenestration: The one with a PG robot apocalypse

 

Title: The Mitchells Vs. The Machine

What Year?: 2020 (completed)/ 2021 (release)

Classification: Mashup

Rating: It’s Okay! (3/4)

 

As I write this, it’s been a while since I did an animation review, and I definitely felt like doing something new. As it happened, I had just taken another look at a movie that would really shake things up simply by being from the last year. It is also one of the more willfully strange films to come to my attention from any time recently, which isn’t too surprising given that it’s from the crew behind The Lego Movie. Without further ado, I present The Mitchells Vs. The Machines, a teenage non-lethal version of Terminator.

Our story begins with a quick introduction to a family running from hostile robots in a station wagon, provided by the high school graduate Katie. We then flash back to the start of a road trip, instigated when a plane ticket to her new college is cancelled under suspicious circumstances. Her father Rick is conveniently prepared to cross the country with her mother and Aspie-analog brother Aaron in tow. While they are stopped at a dino-themed tourist trap even Aaron is critical of, a product launch party becomes a full AI uprising, led by a tech genius’s discarded and disgruntled cell phone. The vaguely humanoid robots begin herding humans into modular cages with tractor beams and offers of free wifi, but the Mitchells escape them with help from a pair of defective/ renegade machines and a pet whose appearance overloads the bots’ target-recognition programs. The family takes the fight to the machines at a mall overrun by murderous Furbys, but when their plan to upload a kill code fails, they must go to the heart of the tech company. Can the family prevail, and make peace with who they are? Do we need to put this as a question???

The Mitchells Vs The Machines was a 2021 Sony animated film directed and cowritten by Mike Rianda and produced by Phil Lord and Chris Miller, known for Gravity Falls and The Lego Movie respectively. The voice cast was led by Abbi Jacobson as Katie Mitchell and Danny McBride as Rick, with Maya Rudolph as Mrs. Mitchell and Rianda as Aaron. The soundtrack was composed by Mark Mothersbaugh, with an original song “On My Way” by Alex Lahey. After a planned 2020 release was postponed, the rights to the film were purchased by Netflix, which made the film available for streaming immediately after a limited theatrical release. Rianda confirmed that the main character was written as LGBT. The film received an Oscar nomination and numerous additional awards. The film remains available for free streaming on Netflix, as well as on disc.

For my experiences, I first heard of this one through the usual animation-fan channels, without taking immediate interest. Once I added Netflix streaming to my Neolithic disc rental plan (see Neverending Story), I gave it a look, and then watched it again along with some other material. What settled me on reviewing it was simply that I reminded myself that I not only hadn’t done an animation review since Chicken Little, but still haven’t hit 10 reviews for this feature. On top of that, the total of 9 reviews I had done for this feature was no greater than the count I had done for my other features. So, I set aside another very worthy movie to review this one. I even factored in that this one is actually good.

Moving forward, most of the pros and cons for this one come down to the fact that it runs on pure random. The result is a high-energy presentation with a steady stream of gags, slapstick/ action sequences and general wackiness. It’s worth further note that this feels increasingly like Katie’s comically bad in-universe movies, which in turn leaves a strong impression that what we see are her perceptions as much as reality. Predictably, there’s some further hit-or-miss elements that don’t quite fit, like a Dawn of the Dead reference that should be over the younger characters’ heads. (I have already recounted my quest to get it on Blu Ray…) The one real downside to this approach, common to such things, is that the “off-beat” notes start to feel predictable in their own right. The deeper problem, again a common issue, is an uneven tone. The weirdness alternates with serious moments with the family, which is fine, but the latter moments work well enough to wish for much more of them. It opens up in my mind the possibility of a movie that’s just about the road trip, with no science fiction/ fantasy elements at all. That, in turn, brings up more strongly the question of bow much, if anything, should be taken as reality, an intriguing subtext that never quite gets developed.

The flip side is the rebellious robots, and these are intriguing. The fact that they don’t simply start Skynet-style genocide is clearly dictated by the “family friendly” tone, yet the conceit evolves into a plausible scenario. The drone-like mechs that form the main force seem unable to kill or harm a human, at least by direct action. The elite battle mechs that arrive for the finale show no such restraint, though bey then, the fights are even more slapstick than they were before. The wider plan is in some lights never quite resolved.  At first, they seem to offer what they might consider benevolent rule over humanity, in line with their polite ultimatum to “remain calm” at the outset. Even when the hilariously evil cell phone giving eventually reveals her plan to launch humans into space, there’s still traces of ambiguity what the actual or expected outcome will be. (Someone else I discussed the movie with noted to be the same as “The Marching Morons”, otherwise covered when I reviewed Idiocracy.) The big plot hole is that this has all clearly been planned long before the supposed slight that drives the villainess (???) to implement it. What happens really appears to be one of a number of contingency plans. Fortunately, this is certainly a case where it’s more fun to imagine the alternatives than have them explained.

That leaves the “one scene”, and I’m going with the one that’s close to my own heart and experience. As the movie passes the 20-minute mark, the father teases the kids with the sign for the dino tourist trap. Aaron immediately becomes excited, while Katie tries to muffle  him long enough to announce that her brother now hates dinosaurs. It’s clear at this point at least as much as elsewhere that the voice is an adult actor, but it works for the character. Naturally, the arrival at the tourist trap underwhelms even the boy; I was especially amused by the sauropod that has its neck propped up yet still droops pathetically. The boy says repeatedly, “What’s wrong with the dinosaurs?” He gets more agitated as he sees what’s inside, broken up by gags that will probably age as well as the Facebook jokes of ca. 2010, but as I keep saying, bad paleo art will last for a geologic epoch. It all flows so naturally that the first streaks of light falling from the sky look like one of the exhibits, until Aaron looks through the window and it becomes clear that it's a reflection from outside. Trust me, kid, I know how you feel. I collect patchisaurs, and I’ve been to Holbrook, Arizona. (And while I’m at it, here’s my Terminator fan novel; it will make sense at chapter 28.)

In closing, all I really have to say is that this is one movie that’s been as fun to review as it is to watch. In fact, I gave it one more viewing I hadn’t even mentioned while I was getting this done, albeit as background noise during my actual job. It might seem like I’m critical, and this really is the way I look at movies. I may be analytical to a fault. But that doesn’t stop me from appreciating a really good movie, and this is very good. With that, I’m done for a while. Dog, pig, loaf of bread...

The Legion of Silly Dinosaurs! Generic dino unbagging

 

As I write this, it's the start of the first week of a new month, even though I already posted a review that was going to round out last month. The last post went badly enough that I very seriously debated taking the whole week off. What talked me into going through with an off-week lineup was a new acquisition from a store that previously figured in this feature as a source of my worst dinobot and a lot of the pics from my "in the wild" post. I just made another trip over the weekend, and found something halfway decent that was cheaper than a lot of other stuff. To get things rolling, here's a few pics in the bag.

If there's one thing I hate more than hearing my own voice, it's seeing my own hand in semi-closeup.

At first glance, this is a pretty routine, vaguely modern dino set. As seen here, it's named "Dino Outbreak", with some decent art that's definitely above the quality of the actual set. My favorite part, which might not be wholly visible, is a notice that reads, "Tested according to international standards." Of course, there are no such laws or regulations nor any body to enforce them, for generic dinos or anything else. What this is presumably meant to imply is that the toys were confirmed to meet the laws and regulations of the US and most other industrialized countries. The part that amuses me is, what would they be testing for? Lead paint? Narcotics? Velociraptor DNA?

Meanwhile, something I went back to cover is the size of the things. They're definitely bigger than average, a bit more so than they might look. Here's a group with Sidekick Carl for scale. As you can see, the tallest ones are almost exactly his height, which I previously confirmed to be 3.75 inches, where more typical examples top out at 3.

Now for the lineup of the individual dinos, I covered most of them two at a time. The best in the set is the pachycephalosaur, a little old-fashioned but with good detail and no obvious improbabilities. The next in line is the triceratops, a little wonky with a sort of senior-citizen vibe. As a plus, they actually lived in about the same time and place.

"What do you want to do tonight?"

"The same thing we do every night, try to take over the North American seaway!"

Next up are the stego and a spinosaur. The stego is nothing special, still somewhat interesting, if only for that decidedly indifferent expression. The spinosaur is similarly inoffensive, at least when compared to many of the ones I covered  in my dedicated post on the subject. It's at least clear that the people who did the sculpt were trying to match what we know about the dinosaur; consider for further comparison the Invicta Baryonyx, the first representation based on a decent specimen, which still had plenty of great and small flaws.

"I'll say this one last time, you are not affiliated with me."

Then there's the raptor. I guess they kind of got the head right, and the toe claw's pretty good, on the foot that has one. However, the spinosaur actually comes closer to the "right" shape. And I can handle no feathers (see the retro raptors post), but this looks like it was actually plucked. 

And that brings us to the T. rex. It's a beauty, the way an exploding grain elevator is beautiful. This is what happens when you start with a sound reconstruction and still do everything wrong.

"Keep your hands off my Social Security! I have enough trouble with my own..."

And a closeup; took three shots to get this. Tip, a dinosaur does not need to look like it's actually 65 million years old.

And to wind down, here's a few more pics from that store. I swear, this place is all patchisaur...

You don't see many generic therizinosaurs. This is why.

With that, I'm calling it quits. I will probably be back with another before the month is up, with material I had obtained and planned for a little before this. It's truly the surprises that make this feature worthwhile. That's all for now, more to come!

No Good Very Bad Movies Special: The one by Lucio Fulci

 

Title: The House By The Cemetery aka Zombie Hell House

What Year?: 1981 (Italian release)/ 1982 (UK release)

Classification: Weird Sequel/ Mashup

Rating: Who Cares??? (2/3)

 

As I write this, I am in my own mind passing into a new phase of this feature, to the extent that I’m past the mark that I have considered the point of possible retirement. While I make other decisions, I decided to continue something I already started with another film from a well-known director, this time one I have dealt with long and often enough to consider an archnemesis, an “honor” I previously reserved for Ralph Bakshi. With no further beating around the bush, I present The House By The Cemetery, yet another film from the infamous Lucio Fulci. And I’m going to try this out: FUUULCIII!!!

Our story begins with a little skin and a gruesome double murder by an assailant with one hand seemingly rotting away. We then meet a couple with one of the most kids in history, who are moving in to a house where a colleague of the father killed himself and his mistress, because the first rule of Italian horror movies is that nobody has seen an Italian horror movie. It proves to by a charming house in the countryside, of course next to a cemetery. Soon, the family begins to notice strange things about the house, starting with a boarded-up cellar. Meanwhile, the boy continues making friends with a girl only he can see who gives dire warnings of impending danger. When visitors and staff start disappearing, the father finally does his research and figures out that the house was originally owned by one Dr. Freudstein, an unspeakably evil Victorian surgeon. Of course, it’s none other than Freudstein lurking in the house, still claiming victims for his incomprehensible experiments. Can the family escape the revenant? Will somebody make the kid shut up? Find out- or don’t!

The House By The Cemetery was a 1981 horror film by Lucio Fulci, from a script by Dardano Sacchetti. The movie has been considered 3^rd or 4^th in a semi-official series, preceded by Zombie, City of the Living Dead and/or The Beyond. The film was reportedly inspired by the works of H.P. Lovecraft, as well as “The Turn of the Screw” by Henry James. It was the third Fulci film to feature Catriona MacColl, in the leading role of the mother Lucy Boyle. Other cast included Italian veterans Paolo Malco as Dr. Boyle and Ania Pieroni as an ill-fated babysitter, with child actor Giovanni Frezza as Bob Boyle. The soundtrack was composed by Walter Rizzati. The film was shot in New England in early 1981 and released in Italy in August of the same year. It was released in the UK in 1982, and in the US in 1984. Censorship led to alternate cuts of 85 and 82 minutes. The uncensored 86-minute cut is available on disc. Multiple versions of the film may be found on digital platforms.

For my experiences, I first heard of Fulci when I began reading about zombie movies, and it was quite a while before I ventured to watch any of his films. Eventually, I got through all his zombie-related films and a few more, without finding a single one that I could count as a favorite. When I started doing movie reviews, I covered Zombie for Space 1979, a little more harshly than I might have in a better mood, and panned The Beyond in absolutely cold blood in a rematch for The Revenant Review. But I continued to ponder his other work, especially the present film, which I would easily have nominated as the worst of them all. Once I started this figure, I considered it on and off, and got to it now because it happened to be the one at the top after repeated semi-random shuffling of my “rental” queue. I went in quite ready and rather eager to give it my worst. The reality, however, quickly proved more complex and in its own way frustrating, as I came to realize that this is if anything one of Fulci’s more focused efforts, which admittedly is like talking about the best Bert I. Gordon movie.

Moving forward, the foremost impression the movie gives is that it’s even less of a conventional zombie movie than The Beyond was. The impression I get is a cross between a slasher movie and a haunted house tale, which is enough to make me annoyed just saying it. The irritation factor gets a generous boost from the kids. The mother is aggravating in her own right; I find it particularly odd that she keeps saying her child’s name simply as “Bob”, without a trace of endearment. The things that keep the movie above the waterline are the good sets and camerawork, and the groovy soundtrack, which I was surprised not to find attributed to one of a few usual suspects. Meanwhile, the bottom line is that even with a running time under 90 minutes, the film takes a long time to tell a quite simple story that still ends with a cop-out, yet it must be allowed that it at least doesn’t bombard the viewer with obvious nonsense. As already noted, that may be a low bar, but it is an unquestionable improvement for the filmmaker in question.

If there’s a con, it is the effects and the underwhelming undead. The movie establishes some intriguing parameters for a zombie movie: There is only one revenant, clearly able to use weapons and plan his attacks, who if his intelligence is undiminished equal to any of the characters. There’s no real cunning , however, as the killer makes no appreciable efforts to hide his killings and would surely be found quickly if obvious signs of violence (including a bloodstain cleaned up by the maid!) were properly investigated. The further gore effects of the attacks are nothing to write home about, with only the impossible opening kill (apparently figured on some posters) reaching the surreal absurdity of the giallo genre that birthed Fulci (see Phenomena while you’re at it). Then the final reveal of the revenant is a flat washout, all the more unaccountable since the usually inventive crew was free to focus all their efforts in the single creature. To me, it resembles nothing so much as an intermediate stage of the shapeshifting bounty hunters in Critters. A further comment is in order on the ignominious death of Lucy, seemingly battered to death as Freudstein drags her unceremoniously down the stairs.

Now for the “one scene”, I’m trying to finish this quickly. As we approach the final act, Ann ends up in the cellar for no good reason. For no obvious reason, she calls for Bob. We cut to the kid, who whispers to one of his toys, “We’ve gotta go rescue Ann.” He still pauses to prepare himself, finally grabbing a toy gun before toddling down the stairs. By then, Ann is already clearly beyond help, and the kid is still taking his time. As he finally arrives, the cellar door opens fatefully. The kid calls Ann’s name as he descends the stairs, which are somehow free of any evidence of the attack. Then there’s the sound of something tumbling down the stairs. It’s bizarre, it makes no sense, and it works, which is no less than one would expect from even a lesser master of Italian horror.

In closing, I have the rating left, and I will freely admit I was conflicted. If it had annoyed me more, I would have given it the lowest rating, while if it had been as much of a mess as I remembered, I would most likely have given it the unrated/ Guinnocent ranking, which if anything has ended up a bit overused. As usual, the real question was, do I actively hate this movie? Even I have to concede, the answer is no. This is where zombie movies and to a certain extent Italian movies are already in my blind spot. To provoke me requires not just “bad”, or even boring, but some especially noteworthy combination of offensive, stupid and/ or lazy, like Alien 2, War of the Planets (see also Star Odyssey) or a select file of zombie movies I have yet to dignify with public naming. In that bigger picture, even a movie like this is still in the realm of prosaic badness rather than rage-inducing atrocities. With that, I have one more under the belt, and an almost pleasant surprise. Trust me, things are getting a lot worse.

Fiction: The Adventures of Sidekick Carl, part 21!

 Still only the fourth post I had planned for this week, another installment of Sidekick Carl, so of course, still more worldbuilding. Here's links for the first and previous installments as usual, plus another chapter I referenced. You can still take it as ambiguous....

Sparks shot from the towering combat exoskeleton as Constructor struck another blow. Then there was an blue-white arc of electricity as Carl pulled a handful of cables from the back of the frame that held its 9-foot-6 operator. “Goliath, stop!” the hero called out. “You know the Raven isn’t taking you with him! You’re just buying him time!” The clearly mechanical face of the giant contorted in a roar as he charged, just as Carl tore open a hydraulic line.

Dana shook her head and sighed. “He didn’t even have a temper,” she mused. She leaned around the edge of the dinette. “You doing okay, hon?”

In the darkness, Carl sat on her heavily adjusted seat, steering as he had for over 12 hours. “We’re fine,” he said.

* * *

 

The scene looked like something out of a book of fairy tales, perhaps a score of rustic yet brightly colored cottages lit be the setting sun. The sun reflected brightly on the bronze statue in the little park at the center, a familiar figure with large eyes and very pointed ears. A sign said cheerfully, WELCOME TO AUDREYVILLE. There was nothing to show the scale, until the shadow of Dana’s 14-foot-tall, 32-foot-long RV fell over a house barely a third its size. A figure covered in black fur peered out a window, and promptly ducked back inside.

“So this was just 20 miles from where we’re going?” Dana pondered. By then, she was in the seat, supporting Carl in her lap.

“Technically, it’s tribal land,” Carl said. “The natives let them in. I heard one of the shamans said they were nature spirits come to life. The rest of the tribe pretty much humored him, and it turned out they get along. Then there were mines and old towns, right past the edge of the reservation. Before Basiliskus’s uprising, a developer tried to reopen things, even built an outlet mall. The Raven’s operation bought them out, just before he bought it himself. The old Toxo Warriors’ company was doing renovations.”

“Huh,” Dana said. “The Raven didn’t really last long, did he?”

“He was the first big player to go down, after Galaxarian,” Carl said. “It was still 7 years after Constructor got his powers, and 5 years after he freed me. Long before that, he was already selling arms and branching into espionage and gray tech years before Constructor got his powers. Remember the Princess of Sumatra? That was one of the Raven’s fronts. Constructor’s wife was one of the passengers.”

“Jesus,” Dana said. “Did he know…?”

“Enough to guess,” Carl said. “It didn’t change anything, really. He wanted the Raven stopped, and he knew he was going to make a big move sooner or later. The only time anyone said it was personal was a stretch when a lot of people thought the Raven was dead or dropped out. Constructor didn’t buy it, really didn’t talk about it, he just waited. It was 2 years all told, between out last run-in and when he invaded the Agency. After that, everything else was moot.” He leaned back, which happened to put his head against Dana’s sternum.

“I’m not distracting you, am I?” she mused.

“Of course not,” he said. He shifted. “I suppose I’ve been noticing… proportions.”

“I notice you noticing,” Dana said. She tousled his hair.

“The thing is, with you, ah, things don’t look big. Well, not as big as they are.”

“It’s the same with all the Tall People,” Dana said. “We’re already about as big as a human body can get and still function. So, most things are no bigger than normal, or even smaller… proportionately. And yeah, that included Goliath.”

“Yeah,” Carl said, squirming. “Him.”

“Audrey told me you were going to worry,” Dana said. “I already told you, I never went where we have, with anybody.”

“It doesn’t bother me, really,” Carl said. “I’m just sorry we hurt him.”

Dana nuzzled the top of his head. “That’s why you’re a good man,” she said.

The RV was literally too large for the town’s narrow roads, so they circled on a dirt track until they reached a structure on the outskirts that had been built to human proportions. “Listen,” Carl said. “We’re here by invitation only, and the number of people who’ve been invited is barely into the double digits. The other thing to remember, this isn’t just Audrey’s home. It’s where she’s queen. If we do or say anything they think is disrespectful, they’re going to take it as an offense to her.”

“All right,” Dana said, looking bemused. “I’ll follow your lead. Trust me.”

They emerged from the RV, just as a group of furry figures came out of the house. One was clearly an adult, with somewhat patchy reddish-brown fur, wearing a dress that confirmed it was a female. Beside her was another creature with the same  black-and-white fur as Audrey’s second mate, as tall as the adult with a lingering downy look. “You can call me Henna,” the adult said. “This is my daughter Kira.” The piebald creature briefly bared her teeth.

Dana said softly, without quite whispering, “I never even kept track, what were the names of Audrey’s husbands?”

Henna turned to look her in the eye. “We call them Red and Casablanca,” she said. “I’m sure you can guess which is which.”

Dana pondered for a moment. “Sure, but why Casa…” She practically winced. “Black and white.”

“Better in black and white,” Henna amended. “If you never heard him say that, consider yourself lucky.”

They followed the creatures through a door big enough for Carl but not for Dana, who came close to bowing to get through. It opened into something like a parlor, with furniture and décor that looked copied from a murder mystery. The ceiling was just high enough for Dana to walk upright. She glanced up, and confirmed that what looked like a landing was a complete level sized for the creatures. A half-dozen more played, all smaller than the adults but considerably larger than the kits they had seen with Audrey. A seventh, only a little bigger than the kits, played with a Constructor doll in the middle of the parlor floor. Kira hissed and spoke something, but her mother countermanded her. The child scuttled away, carrying both the doll and what appeared to be a high school biology textbook.

At Dana’s glance, Carl said, “They’d be the same age as elementary school kids if they were human. The lifecycle really isn’t much different from ours. They’re born after 6 months gestation, then it’s two years to reach full mobility, and fertility between age 10 and 12. They’re probably going to start hitting old age at 40 or 50. We aren’t sure, because Basiliskus accelerated things for the first generation…”

“That’s right,” Henna said. “He got us to adulthood in half the time, and we’ll be lucky if it turns out he only took a decade off our lives.”

Dana stretched out on a couch rather than trying to sit. “So I noticed,” she said, “your daughter looks a lot like Casablanca…” If she had looked over her shoulder, she would have seen a discrete but urgent gesture. It was Kira herself who spoke.

“I do,” she said. “He’s my father. And my mother and the Mistress are his mates.”

Dana belatedly looked at Carl, who shook his head. “Okay,” she said. “I… guess that’s not a big surprise. So… is this a free love thing?” She glanced belatedly at the cubs. They showed no interest.

“No,” Henna said. “That means no commitment, no responsibilities. `Creche’ would come close. We live together and take care of each other, our mates and our children.”

Dana turned to Carl again. “Did you know?” she asked.

“I never asked, but I knew it happens,” he said. “How many of you are there?”

“Seven all told, 4 females and 3 males,” Henna said. “More than most, not exceptional.”

Carl nodded. There was an awkward silence, until Kira spoke up. “Don’t act shocked, hominid!” she said. “You think you can teach us your morals, when you made us for your dirty work? Why should we even explain ourselves to you? Our Mistress let you in, but that doesn’t mean you can pry in our business!”

“Hush, kitten,” Henna said. Kira obeyed, though she was clearly unhappy. “Carl is a good spirit. So was Constructor. Besides, he will only be here a little while.”

Carl quickly managed to shift to small talk, and learned about the colony in the process. “We were trying to settle down, even before Audrey finally surrendered,” Henna said. “We made it possible, really. It started with the tribal elders accepting mothers and kits as members, then their mates, and finally any thereomorph that agreed to obey their laws and not make war against humans. Audrey and Red surrendered on the condition that they would join us here. She accepted Casablanca as her consort after.”

“She told me a story about how they met,” Carl said. “I thought it might have been a joke…”

Henna managed a laugh. “If it was what I think, then it was true enough,” she said. As she told the tale, Kira rolled her eyes and covered her ears.  “She showed him favor while I was in seclusion with our first kits, and he spent 5 nights at her door asking to be her consort. I’m guessing she left out that I dragged him home twice. At the end of it, she sent a messenger to me. She said she would take him if I agreed to be her own Second. It had its perks. I waited two days, and then accepted.”

“Then what do you do?” Dana said, clearly cautious.

“I manage the household when she’s handling her other duties,” Henna said. “In an emergency, I have the power to give the colony orders in her place, which becomes permanent if she dies or resigns her offices. Then once we’re both gone, my kits will have the same standing as hers in the line of succession. And there was another thing… Before she chose a Second, any kits Red conceived by other mates counted as hers. Once I took my place, the kits I bore by her favored consort would be counted as both his and mine. In fact, she stipulated it as non-negotiable that we would conceive. It matters more than it sounds. There was a month after we moved in when we were still guests. At the end…” she shook in silent laughter.

The sun had just gone down when they heard the hum of an approaching vehicle. Henna escorted them out, just as Audrey pulled up in a three-wheeled scooter. “I’m glad you made it,” she said curtly. “Are you ready to go?”

“Sure,” Carl said. As he followed Dana back to their RV, he looked back at Henna. She had already turned to go back into the house.