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

 

 

Title: Twilight Zone The Movie

What Year?: 1983

Classification: Irreproducible Oddity

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Image credit The Legendary VHS (Tumblr).

Miniature Giants: Blue Moon figures???

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's all for now, more to come!

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

Part 1: Enemy Marx (Japanese figures)

Part 2: Marx Marxists! (Soviet figures)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Robot Revolution: The one where analog Skynet has a point

 

 

Title: Colossus: The Forbin Project aka The Forbin Project

What Year?: 1970

Classification: Prototype/ Anachronistic Outlier

Rating: It’s Okay! (3/4)

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Robot Revolution: The one that's the killer elevator movie

 

 

Title: De Lift aka The Lift

What Year?: 1983

Classification: Improbable Experiment

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

 

With this review, I’m continuing my survey of robot movies and particularly the unconventional edges of the subgenre. I decided representation was in order for movies that deal with robotics and AI without what could be considered an actual robot. That brought up its own field for consideration, particularly on the “evil computer” vein, including one mentioned in my correspondences. I wasn’t prepared to cover the ones that came up, but it set off a line of thinking that brought me back to a movie I have wanted to do for a very long time, one which is indeed legendary in the select circles I come in contact with. I present De Lift, the actual movie about an actual killer elevator, and it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the last time I thought about it was for my "bad" movie feature.

Our story begins with a shot of the inside of an elevator shaft that is clearly intended to be ominous, and in fairness succeeds. We then cut to four 1980s Eurotrash specimens who are trapped in an elevator that nearly roasts them before the staff extract them. We then meet our protagonist, a mechanic whose seemingly happy marriage won’t have that much to do with the plot. Naturally, he is sent to investigate what went wrong with the three elevators in an office building. He becomes a witness to a series of close calls, mishaps and finally gruesome deaths, usually though not always involving the center elevator. With help from a possibly flirty lady journalist, he uncovers a contractor involved in developing artificial intelligence that an unhelpful expert declares may become self-aware. When his superiors try to take him off the case and his wife walks out, he forges ahead to uncover the truth: The elevators are under the control of a seemingly half-organic computer ready to defend itself! But will this take a back seat to whether his marriage recovers???

De Lift was a 1983 Dutch horror film written and directed by Dick Maas, a filmmaker previously known for short films and music videos. The film starred Huub Stapel as Felix the repairman, with Willeke Van Amelrooy as the lady reporter. Special effects for the film were credited to Leo Cahn and Rene Stouthamer, the latter of whom had worked with Maas on a 1981 film titled Rigor Mortis. The film was released in 1983 in the Netherlands and the United States. Contemporary and later reviews were mixed to favorable. The film went on to “cult” status for its unusual concepts and cinematography. Maas continued to make both music videos and feature films. In 2001, he directed an English-language remake titled Down. The film was released on home video under the title The Shaft, after a limited US release.

For my experiences, this stands out as a movie that even I was not quite aware of it as such until I finally watched it. I am sure I heard of it a long, long time ago, but there were always things that obscured the trail. One of them was certainly the remake, sufficiently that there are still places I am sure I read about one or the other but not which. But that did not throw me off as much as the simple fact that there are a lot of horror, science fiction and “mainstream” movies that feature deadly elevators (including in promotional materials) without making it a central antagonist. (See, if anything, Dark Star.) In further hindsight, this makes it a puzzle and paradox that easily eclipses the movie itself. Did the movie draw on an existing trope, which certainly existed before? Or was it at least a popularizing influence on other films?  What brought me to it here is that it represents the egregious apex of an unusual variation on a decentralized, non-anthropomorphic AI, and as such is better than might be expected.

Moving forward, the comparison I have never been able to avoid is with Death Bed (see my “worst” list), I suppose the main reason I considered it previously for No Good Very Bad Movies. The counterintuitive part is that there are levels on which comparison does not weigh entirely in the present film’s favor.  Yes, it is comparatively pleasant to watch a film that has both conventional narrative, characters and dialogue and production values consistent with people who knew what they were doing. However, Death Bed’s shear audacity and “does this actually count as a movie???” vibe gave it certain redeeming or at least intriguing qualities that are definitely not replicated here. It doesn’t help that what we get instead is pretty much a cross between a 1970s “haunted house” movie (see, dear Logos, House) and an ‘80s slasher, albeit above average. The most interesting thing is that the melodramatic padding succeeds in making the protagonist sympathetic (which might be even more pronounced if genders were swapped with his partner), without supplying a convenient resolution by the end of the run time.

That leaves the elevator itself. At first, it seems more like a supernaturally possessed machine in the Maximum Overdrive vein than an actual AI. This leads to some especially memorable moments in the beginning and middle of the film. As alluded, almost all of the antics happen with the center elevator in a bank of three. At first, its behavior is merely capricious, perhaps genuinely random. The repairman and other human authority figures, in turn, are frustrated but not suspicious. The fine cinematography builds up the elevator as both a clear threat and a disconcertingly inhuman presence. After all the buildup, the quite limited number of kills really feel oddly anticlimactic both in concept and execution, with only the demise of a blind man giving much further effect. Part of this is surely that these are things a seasoned viewer is likely to have seen before in films that may well have ripped this one off. However, another factor is the self-limiting nature of the concept (also prominent in Death Bed). After all, there are only so many ways a sentient elevator can kill without making a story repetitive. Things finally take a turn into the surreal when we finally get a look at the literally oozing biomechanoid nerve center of the machinery. It all sets up the closest thing to a further explanation from its creator, “It was very sick.”

That leaves the “one scene”, and I’m going with the one that got all the way to the poster. Around the midpoint, an executive and his assistant are actively philandering, which their coworkers already know or guess. This is as good a point as any to mention, get this in Dutch with subtitles at all costs, because I swear to the Logos of the Universe, the dub I watched for the review is literally worse than a Gamera movie (and not a cool ‘90s one…). Meanwhile, we find a girl alone in front of the bank of elevators. It’s the elevator on the left that opens. The girl looks inside, and is surprised when it closes. When the elevator on the right opens, however, she only laughs. Soon, she is darting to one side and then the other as the doors open and shut, except the one in the middle. What stood out when I watched this part is that everything is well-lit and even colorful. There are even pink mood-lighting strips inside the elevators themselves. Yet, this merely proves the effectiveness of the film’s core hyper-functional aesthetic (in many ways akin to Sole Survivor). In all this, the central elevator remains shut, only heightening the sense that it is the seat of the malign intelligence in control. Finally, it does open, and as the girl approaches, the elevator rises enough for her to look underneath. We cut to the pair of adults as they hear a scream. Surely the true horror is that it becomes apparent that she is in fact related to one of these knuckleheads!

In closing, the question I find worth coming back to is whether there can be a fundamentally bad idea for a movie, especially an otherwise “straight” genre film. This film, even more than Death Bed, is as close as you can get to an archetypal example, precisely because it is done quite competently. It acquits itself well enough to present a counterpoint for the horror genre in particular: A killer elevator may be absurdly unthreatening, as long as you aren’t already inside it, but so is a shark if you aren’t in the water. The “point” of a good genre film is to embody and express the anxieties of its own and any other place and time. If anything, the present specimen has only grown more relevant as technology marches on. The real caveat is, some things are worth one treatment, not necessarily a whole niche genre. My final verdict is, it’s earned my respect. With that, I can call it a day.

Fiction: The Space Guys Adventure, Part 19!

 I wanted to get in a post in the actual weekend, and I actually had two options for the Space Guys. One had stuff happening, the other was a backstory dump that does develop a few characters who are supposed to be important. Guess which one this is. As usual, a table of contents is at the end...

The trek to Uranus went on. Training with the equipment improved morale. There were further unexpected effects. Jax and Dr. Cahill began appearing together again, and acted more like real friends than lovers. Vasily emerged after a long self-imposed exile, often in the company of Sandra. Jackie simply stayed on his own, talking freely with men and women alike. A very few times, he kept company with Anastasia in her husband’s absence. That subsided, however, after the third time Jason saw Moxon watching her.

He also spent more time with the higher officers. Alek conversed regularly with or leastways at Mehmet, who was often with Tanya. Jason considered whether the two were having an affair, but his suspicions faded after the one time he did see Mehmet leave her quarters, following a half-heard argument that clearly ended in him being thrown out. He also grew more acquainted with the Americans Smith and Yates, officially their Ethnic Relations and Morale officers, evidently good friends. A time came when Jason, Alek and Jax joined them at the captain’s table. Smith brought out a map of the United States, divided into 54 states and 7 Trade And Commerce Authority zones. Jason pondered the largest of them, which ran from Louisiana to Montana. Its center of operations was Baton Rouge.

“So, here’s my home town, Philadelphia, PA,” Smith said. He pointed to a spot in the Upper Atlantic Trade Zone. He tapped another spot in a corridor that tapered down to a swath of coast east of Louisiana, in the east of a blocky state in the middle. “And this is where my counterpart is from, Franklin, Tennessee. We both represent the United States Office of Ethnic Relations. Our mission since the War has been to identify and integrate non-Anglo citizens.”

By then, Donald and Anastasia had wandered in. “Yeah,” Donald said. “In case you think that sounds nice, they started as a wing of the Draft Board. It was all because there were people trying to get in to the all-moreno units.”

Jason nodded, disregarding Donald as usual. “So, what, were your folks on opposite sides of the Civil War?”

“Uh-uh,” Yates said. “I came from east Tennessee, where there isn’t enough flat land for the plantations. People say we were never really in the South, but we’re further south than Virginia. It was one of the places the Rebs couldn’t control. One of my ancestors fought on the Union side. My own family organized for Integration. I went door to door taking donations.”

The captain spoke up then. “It is like Thuringia,” he said, either wistful or sad. “We are at the meeting of West, East and South, of every part and no part. We were not many or powerful, yet even the Reich knew better than to tell us our business.”

After a moment of silence, he regathered himself. “I am given to understand that there have been discussions among the crew about the history of the Americas,” he said. “Officers Smith and Yates have provided a list of films that might better address any questions. We were interested in getting a Martian’s opinion.”

Jason looked at Jax. “Sure,” he said. “Why not?”

A monitor was set up. The first few videos were a propaganda reels featuring either Tweel the Martian a costumed character named Captain Patriot. Jason had seen others, but these were the first that was in color. The reels with Captain were always idealistic, always ending with the vindication of non-Anglo war heroes and gallant workers misunderstood by society. Those with Tweel were sadder and more mature, as the ostrich creature talked openly about prejudice, persecution, enslavement and worse, grimly illustrated from history. Then they got to a reel with the Captain that was different. This time, it was a young veteran and his bride and groom arrested at the altar by a doddering yet devious Race Registrar. He presented an affidavit that one of her great-grandfathers’ great-grandfathers, supposedly unknown, had in fact been an enslaved African. On those grounds, he held that they not only could not marry, but had committed a knowing felony by listing her race as “white”.

The ensuing drama was longer and more elaborate than usual. The couple admitted that they knew of rumors of that a distant ancestor of the bride had had an affair with a freed Creole, but insisted that while none denied it might be true, he had died years before the birth of her only son. However, the record of the Creole’s death could not be found. The Captain went in search of a duplicate in Federal records, suspecting an intrigue by the bride’s distant family. Meanwhile, two friendly morenos debated a movement to repeal laws against intermarriage, which they emphasized was led by Anglos who had been denied marriages to each other over minute or entirely speculated degrees of mixed ancestry. Of course, the Captain captured a lackey sent to destroy the records that proved the bride’s story. He arrived in the court room with proof that the Registrar was part of a plot against her, and a Reich sympathizer to boot. The judge prepared to marry the couple as the villain was led away, until the Captain gave his own objection. He called on the young man’s father, who confessed that he had hidden proof that his own grandfather was moreno.

“It’s a good propo,” Donald mused. “It couldn’t have happened that way, of course. All the penalties were down to fines and misdemeanors by the end of the War. And they couldn’t mess with church marriages. And  if Anglos just put their race as colored, the States had to go along with it or wait 18 months for a review by the Draft admin. By then, people were putting anything they wanted, just to scraw with the Registrars.”

“It wasn’t that simple,” Jax said. “The States hadn’t all repealed felony penalties, they just couldn’t enforce them while the Draft was active. All the Fed cared about was giving the Selective Service branch time to create a standard for their own Registry. They actually stopped suits that could have overturned the laws. It hurt a lot of people.”

Yates showed them another reel, evidently for the Office’s own staff. It led into a case of an Anglo caught trying to hide the body of an Anglita child in a field on commune land.  “Jill helped her mother with a book on the trial,” Jax said. “The girl was really half-Mexican. They had been looking for the guy a while. The Fed was close to getting involved. He probably thought leaving a body on commune land would convince them they were looking for a moreno.”

The trial followed. With utmost delicacy and fairness, the petitioner for the commune presented the case to moreno jury and an Anglo judge, in a court in Baton Rouge.The man was found guilty of abduction leading to death. The jury foreman earnestly requested that he be committed as unsound in mind. The judge instead sentenced him to hang. “He didn’t have the authority to do that,” Jax said. “It would have gone to Federal review, anyway.

“Authority, Hell,” Donald said. “I read someone had to tell him the State had outlawed hanging 20 years earlier.”

“It was all a misunderstanding. Really,” Yates said. “The Office sent a statement explaining the facts to every news paper in the country. There were editors who printed it that still had the headline that blacks had sent a white man to his death.”

“They said what they wanted to believe,” Jax said. The reel already showed what followed. It froze on a shot from above of flames that seemed to stretch without limit from east to west.

“And that was it?” Jason said, baffled. “That was what they needed an Intervention for?”

“Sometimes, the forest just wants to burn,” Donald said.

Jason started at Moxon’s words, which he had never admitted overhearing. Fortunately, Jax spoke first. “Wait,” he said. “Where did you hear that?”

“I don’t know,” the engineer said. “I guess it’s supposed to be an Indian saying, or something.”

Jason saw one record left, with the markings of restricted material. Yates reluctantly agreed to play it. “It was a propaganda film from a faction called the Nordicist Party,” he said. “We placed their materials on a Restricted list just before the Intervention.”

“I want to see it,” Jason said. At a nod from the captain, Yates put on the disc.

It was an animated film, little more than still images that showed in sequence as the dialogue and narration played. Its vignettes were on a Biblical vein that meant little to Jason, with the evident intent of an allegory for the sophisticated. Even he recognized it from the start as an escalating chain of heretical deviations. It started with the Creator making men from baked mud, each colored according to the clay from which they came. Some were a deep, burnt brown. Some were glazed white. Some were brick red. Then the creator tried to mix another race from remnants of half-baked clay. The result was small and malformed dwarfs of ugly yellow that crumbled in the Maker’s hands. It was decreed that the men should be scattered on the Earth so that they would not mingle.

Then came the central story, of a chief named Adam who called himself made by God’s own hands. He had two wives, one brown and one snow white with golden hair. The first was named Eve, the other Lilith. Some said that the latter was not a woman, but a goddess, angel or demon who had defied heaven to consort with a mortal man. It happened that Eve had born two sons, Abel and Seth, one brown and the other tan like olive, where Lilith bore a son and a daughter, Cain and Aclima, each as white as herself. Cain guarded his sister from any man, some said out of love, others out of a lust that Adam declared could not be fulfilled. A time came when Adam declared that Aclima should be given to Abel. When Cain tried to hide her, Abel abducted her. Cain struck down Abel in vengeance, only to find his sister already with child. Fearing a war between his sons, Adam called on Heaven to send a curse, that all should know by Cain’s white skin that he was mighty and terrible as Death, and so flee him or serve at his feet. Cain called down his own curse, that his sons would ever after do as they willed with the daughters of Abel, but any son of Abel who but touched a daughter of Cain would be made a eunuch in their house.

Finally, there was a tale of Babel, founded by the descendants of Seth in the land south of Eden. Their king Nimrod was nearly white. He decreed that he would make his Tower, a great ziggurat to ascend to Heaven and meet the gods or God that made Heaven and Earth. To secure workers for his great monument, he married a dark queen from beyond the western sea. But the slaves and servants she brought with him could not or would not learn the speech of his overseers, nor would they obey the clearest direction. Soon, they ran riot, looting the city and seizing women who would not be willing consorts with them. When the queen bore a son of pure black skin, the king knew he himself was made a cuckold. He took her to the platform atop the Tower and hurled her down with his own hands. But the bricks were already weathered and crumbling, and the earth beneath was sand. As the queen tumbled down, she  called a curse that split the ground. The ziggurat collapsed, crushing the king and queen and their followers together.

“What the Hell?” Jason said at the end. “I mean, really, what the Hell? Who believed this? Did anyone believe any of it?”

That was when Anastasia spoke up. “You can tell them what they teach us,” she said.

“That’s… different,” Jason said with a frown.

Alek looked at him, her expression halfway between empathy and amusement. “You never talk about religion, even to me,” she said. “What do they teach the farmboys?”

“Well, it’s only for the families that don’t have their own church,” Jason said. “People like Jax’s folks and Jill’s know about it, but we don’t preach at each other. So, anyway, they teach us prayers to the old gods, like Mars and Venus and Jupiter. It’s not to worship them or say we believe in them, but to honor what they stood for and everything they gave us.”

He crossed his arms with a scowl. There was a silence. It broke when Alek started laughing. “Sorry, sorry, it is not how it looks,” she said. “It is just, when we are alone, he calls me Venus. Sometime, he has me call him Vulcan!” She covered her mouth as she continued to giggle. Jason managed a smile. The captain himself did the same, quite kindly.

Jason finally looked to the captain. “You came from Deutschland,” he said. “What do they really say about what happened there?”

“I don’t suppose we could understand,” he said. “One thing you must understand, we do not speak the names of the Leaders or of their deeds, if we can avoid it. Why should we, when even the historian cannot say who gave the last commands? In Thuringia, we look at them differently than others. Even now, there are men and women who will say what it was like to see them come. It was from the south that they came, Austrians, Catholics, alehouse trash, faugh!”

He looked down at the map, a frown on his face. “We did not understand them, we could not,” he said. “The elders say they laughed at them. Why not? They said that Germany had forgotten how to be German. Perhaps it was true, in Munich or Berlin, but not in Erfurt! And who were they, to tell us or anyone else how to be German again? It is a proverb now, if it was not then, a Bavarian is to a Thuringian what a frog is to a fish!” He thumped his chest. “We were the living heart of Deutschland. Our ways were as they had always been. We were happy, we were free, we minded our business and let others mind their own!”

He shook his head. “But the old ones will confess that they knew even then, the men of the Reich were evil, and if they were not consumed by their own evil, it would be by a greater evil they drew on themselves and many more. We thought that if we minded our business as we always had, we need only wait for their end. But that came from the south, too. The old men say the hills shook long before they could be seen or heard, a thousand tanks and a million men who had seen and suffered the worst the Reich could do.”

Again, it was Anastasia who spoke. “Our leaders were against it, even the ones we do not talk about,” she said. “The commanders said we could still break out of Poland. The Englishman only said that Munich was to the Reich what Leningrad was to the Party.”

She turned to Jason. “What do you think, Farmboy?” she said. “Do you want more history? Here it is. People are terrible. They always have been, they probably always will be. Just be glad we’re out here.”

She turned to leave. As Donald rose to follow, he turned back to Jason. “I’m just glad,” he said, “I already married a Russian.”

That made Anastasia freeze in her tracks. “Russian?” she said. It was a hiss like a snake. “We have been married almost a year, and you think I am Russian?” She ran out, and Jason and Jax ran after her.

 

By the time they got to her cabin, she had already locked Donald out.

Table of contents

Part 1. The demo!

Part 2. The villain!

Part 3. The world-building!

Part 4. The romance!

Part 5. The killer robot!

Part 6: The shuttle ride!

Part 7: Alternate universe pop culture!

Part 8: The launch!

Part 9: The girl talk!

Part 10: The domestic disturbance!!!

Part 11: The Space Nazis!!!

Part 12: The inevitable geography lesson!

Part 13: The wedding!!!

Part 14:  The spicy chapter!

Part 15: The bad guy backstory!

Part 16: The Dinner!

Part 17: The alternate history!

Part 18: The weapons exposition!

Robot Revolution: The one where Kristin Stewart kills an alien with a piano

 

 

Title: Zathura aka Zathura: A Space Adventure

What Year?: 2005

Classification: Mashup/ Weird Sequel/ Anachronistic Outlier

Rating: That’s Good! (4/4)

 

With this review, I’m continuing my series/ feature on robots. An issue that has already come up is that while robots have figured regularly in science fiction films for about as long as the genre has existed, they have often been relegated to subordinate status, typically as servants/ minions to their good or evil creators. For the most part, I have used this to narrow down the field to the comparatively manageable number of films that make robots and other AI (which I have been planning to get to) truly central to the plot. For my fourth installment, however, I decided it was time to deal with an example of the “secondary” tradition, and that brought up a movie I have been looking for a chance to cover for a while. I present Zathura, a movie where the killer robot is the least strange thing about the film.

Our story begins with an introduction to a single dad and his two elementary-age sons, who habitually bicker while their teenage (step? half???) sister hovers at the periphery. When the father leaves on an urgent errand, the two kids try playing a Gernsback sci fi-themed game that’s really more like a mechanical toy. They discover that this is more than a board game, however, as perils like meteor showers and a malfunctioning robot become reality. The continuing misadventures leave the whole house adrift in space, threatened by a marauding reptilian race. Their best chance of returning home is a mysterious friendly astronaut who has played long enough to know the rules of the game- but the wrong choice may trap them in the game forever!

Zathura was a 2005 science fantasy film directed by Jon Favreau, based on the book of the same name by Chris Van Alsburg. The film was regarded as a thematic sequel to the 1995 film Jumanji, also based on a book by Van Alsburg. Favreau stated that the film was influenced by 1970s and 1980s films including Battle Beyond The Stars. The film starred Josh Hutcherson and Jonah Bobo as the brothers, with Dax Shepard of Idiocracy as the Astronaut and Tim Robbins as their father. Kristin Stewart appeared as the sister, and Frank Oz (see Dark Crystal, An American Werewolf In London) received credit as the voice of the Robot. Suits and practical effects for robot and aliens were created by Stan Winston Studios (see Invaders From Mars, Congo, etc, etc, etc.), as part of a blend of animatronic, miniature and CGI effects used for the film and often for the same sequences and characters. The film was a commercial disappointment despite favorable reviews, earning a $65 million box office roughly equal  to its budget. Its reputation has improved as both a “cult” SF/ fantasy film and family movie. The film is available for streaming on multiple platforms.

For my experiences, I really came to this film after seeing it mentioned by a reviewer I follow intermittently, as an example of a film I didn’t know was “supposed” to be a failure. That brings in certain further complaints that I have had with the likes of The Black Hole, The Blob and The Thing (see my video on the last): Yes, films that earn their budgets back can still lose a lot of money, but I have never cared for calling a movie a “bomb”, flop, etc. on that basis alone. With the present film, I can remember favorable reviews and a prompt viewing when it came out on home video. I was immediately impressed with it as a solid and creative genre film with the potential to turn into a “classic”, and from actual viewer feedback, I would say confidently that it has lived up to its potential. That, in itself, is exactly how films end up above my radar. For this feature, I finally felt I had a reason to comment on an excellent film.

Moving forward, all the obvious arguments, counter-arguments and counter-offensive arguments come down to the simple question of realistic expectations. Yes, there are things that can be off-putting for the adult viewer, especially the interminable bickering. But this is supposed to be a kids’ movie, and it can justify itself as portraying what kids deal with in real life through what becomes both a theme and a major element of the plot. The central science fictional elements are similarly framed as science fantasy in the vein of Starcrash and Flash Gordon, with a sounder suspension of disbelief than usual. It’s worth further note, with respect to my Anachronistic Outlier category, that this is all done with a fully modern visual vocabulary. To me, the one thing worth further argument is Stewart. On many levels, her character is one thing the film would have been as good or better without. I do feel that a major reason for the easily felt redundancy is that there is no confirmation of her exact relationship with the other family members. She does contribute as the actual “voice of reason”, and her completely justified reactions mitigate the question of whether the events on-screen are in any way “real”. Any further doubts are acquitted when she finally takes on an antagonist one on one, which (as alluded in the title) I am absolutely counting as an unambiguous combat kill.

Inevitably, I have to devote a section to the robot. I will point out, first, the technical facts: This is not a “practical” rig, as I recall a contemporary reviewer assuming, but a hybrid of a Winston suit with CGI effects that was itself an astonishing innovation. As for its on-screen appearance, there’s really just one sequence of the bot in action, which would have been the “one scene” by my usual format. It’s all set up with a fake-out scare involving a toy, which on consideration is perhaps the most clever hint that the movie’s “reality” is ambiguous. (I will get to that in a moment…) When the bot does appear, it is entirely and menacingly physical.  The ensuing mayhem quickly establish it as the most formidable of the movie’s antagonists. In the process, there are also established limitations. It’s fast, though not necessarily faster than the humans. On the other hand, it is seemingly clumsy, which might be in part because it is still figuring out which parts of the house it can simply tear through. The most disconcerting reveal comes when we see it repairing itself, establishing an ongoing threat that will be handled with another clever twist. When we get a look at its clockwork guts, it is ludicrously primitive, more like Tik Tok of Oz than a Golden Age bot. But then there is the bird-like self-repair appendage, which at certain points acts like a sentient entity all its own. There’s no direct answers to this and other questions; what works is that we don’t need them to enjoy the story.

Now for the “one scene”, I was as often happens most intrigued by an otherwise innocuous scene. Right around the first-act transition, the younger brother decides to cook some macaroni and cheese. The older brother says that there will be no running water while they are literally in space. Undeterred, the younger brother turns on the tap, and water comes out, filling the pan. When he goes to the stove, the elder brother reminds them that there “should” be no gas for the burners, either. (For that matter, the power should be long gone as well.) It’s no real surprise when the burner merrily turns on. It is a brief and minor moment, yet on analysis, it is the most mindboggling moment in a story that is already running on the willful suspension of disbelief. The simple and convenient explanation is that everything we are seeing is a product of the boys’ imaginations. The quite disconcerting alternative is that whatever rules and logic still apply in this assumed universe are a matter of what the kids would know and believe. It’s a hypothesis that could have been tested, if the older brother tried the same things himself, but the story is already moving on.

In closing, what I find myself coming back to is what makes a movie a “failure” in its own or any other time. As I have previously ranted, my own formula for actual disaster is whether a movie with a budget of at least seven figures can get half of it back, and dear Logos, I have covered enough that didn’t to prove that box office results are no measure of merit. There are ones now considered classics, like Return To Oz, though I have covered many more that didn’t actually do “that” badly. (Hell, Krull pulled through at about 60%.) There are ones that at least reached the level of “cult” fandom, like Deep Rising, and others that remain divisive even in those circles, like Memoirs Of An Invisible Man. Then there are the ones so mediocre and unmemorable that they don’t even live up to their own notoriety, like Adventures of Pluto Nash. What movies like Zathura prove is that there can be justice in the long and short term. In its own time, it did well enough just by earning as much as it cost. As it approaches 20 years from its release, it has endured the tests of time, above all as a film critics, fans and audiences still talk about.  It did what it set out to do, and by my regular refrain, that’s more than enough. Onward and upward…