Fiction: Retro games fan fic/ parody demo part 2!

I still haven't decided what I'm going to do this month, and also, I decided to put all my other fiction projects on hold while I turned my Nintendo fan fic/ parody demo into a novel that I'm actually on track to finish. To have something for this week, I decided to post a chapter that's about two-thirds of the way through what I have so far, featuring an old creature idea based on the creepiest effects demo reel ever. Yes, this is what I used to write; yes, this is a Super Mario/ Metroid crossover; and no, I have never owned or used a gun.

 “All right,” Meliboia of the Myrmidons said. “We do this by the numbers.” In the viewport ahead, a planet loomed. It was ugly. It was brown. It was the most dangerous planet in the Star Union.

“I’m ready,” King Ajax said.

“So am I,” said Nopalina, his senior Maiden.

“I’m sorry," said Maiden Persephone, "if it’s all the same, I’d rather stay up here and read."

 

Meliboia briefed them in the main cabin. She wore only her Cingulum mesh suit, scandalous on every world they had visited. For Ajax, it drew his gaze no longer than her long olive legs and pearl and platinum hair. She dragged her footlocker into the middle of the space. She opened it and pointed out the weapons. “These are the variants of the 6mm MFCASK caseless small-arms family,” she said. She took out the two largest weapons. One had a bipod and a very sophisticated electronic sight. The other had a circular drum and a hard point for a tripod mount. “These are configured for Tactical Suppression and Area Defense. The first one is my primary weapon, 50 round topside mag standard. There’s room for spares on the side.” She held up a transparent magazine clipped to the stock. It was loaded with 10 triangular caseless cartridges. “The other takes standard clips or a 200-round drum. Pray we don’t need it.”

She unlimbered a third weapon with an extending stock. “This is the Multi-Role Carbine, they’ll take a 50 clip but you’re better off with 30,” she said. “It’s what you use when things are getting hot but you’re still keeping cool.” She attached a grenade launcher with a 5-round magazine. “And this is the 3cm Direct/ Indirect Fire Grenade Launcher, in case you have to explain something.” She gave Ajax the weapon. When Nopalina pressed to hold one herself, Mel gave her a smaller case that held a nearly identical weapon. “This has a shorter barrel. It should be easier to carry, but it can be harder to handle.”

Finally, she drew not one but two pistols. “These are Close Assault Tactical, for if something gets up close and personal,” she said. She waved the more compact of the two. “This is semi auto, 10 rounds; use this if you ask politely.” She attached a stock and an extended clip to the other. “This is selective fire, 20 rounds, in case you have to tell them twice.” She gave the smaller pistol to Nopalina, and kept the other for herself after Ajax declined it.

“They are fine weapons, my Lady,” Ajax said. Mel leaned over for a kiss.

“Excuse me,” Persephone said. “What do the letters stand for?”

“Easy,” Nopalina said. She attached a spare single-shot grenade launcher to her weapon. “Mother Fo-‘Cking Ar-Se Kicker.”

 

The bridge module of the Amphion descended to the planet. Mel aimed for a long, narrow ridge. “We can follow the ridge to our objective,” she said. “Stay away from the sand. It’s where the borer worms are. Mostly.”

They touched down between two distinct sections of the ridge. Mel emerged in her Lorica. She carried the Area Defense Weapon and a tripod. “There,” she said. “Think you can handle this?”

Persephone followed behind in a basic environmental suit. She tried sighting the weapon. She pulled the trigger once. She did not flinch at the short burst of fire. “I guess so,” she said. She took a book out of her bag. It was on raising Tatzelwurms. “Have fun.”

 

Mel led the way in full armor. She wore a full breastplate, a heavy Hoplite helmet, and what looked like a pair of wings on her back, in fact a pair of radiator fins. She carried her rifle slung over her back. Her carbine hung under one arm. On the belt that supported her greaves, she had holstered the machine pistol and a grenade launcher fitted with its own trigger and grip. Ajax and Nopalina followed in light armor. Once, a toothed proboscis at least 10 Cubits long erupted from the sand. It whipped back and forth, tasting the air. Mel raised her rifle warily, but did not fire. After a minute, the proboscis withdrew. “It smelled them,” she said.

As they approached the end of the ridge, she waved for another halt. She connected a small screen to her scope, allowing the others to see what it showed. Ahead were numerous stands of large cacti with asymmetrical bulbous pads and even uglier black fruit, each as extensive as a small orchard. “This is our objective,” she said. “The fruit is the only known source for several highly dense, very reactive compounds. For some races, it can cure cancer. For others, it gets them really stoned. For a few, it just gets their Mushroom fruiting. This is the only planet where the plant grows. They farm it…”

Nopalina took out a bag. “I collect prickly pear back home,” she said. “This should be no problem.” She patted the pistol at her own hip.

“We will cover you,” Ajax said. He raised his carbine. Mel took aim at what looked like a cave a hundred meters away. “Run.”

The first of them came out as soon as Nopalina moved. Its kind were called Kophon, meaning Deaf-Mute. It flopped down, giving Ajax a good look as it thrashed. It would have been two Cubits tall upright, but it was clearly adapted to run on all fours. A second pair of arms were folded against its visible rib cage. Its skin was purple, its blood was orange, its viscera black. Already two more had emerged, then five, then ten, and then he pointed and shouted as twenty burst out of a burrow in the opposite direction, at only half the distance.

Nopalina reached the cactus colony and began picking fruit. By then, Mel had brought down 5 of the Kophon with single shots. Ajax joined in as a group of 4 came close enough to hurl their own projectiles. A perfectly spherical rock bounced off his visor. He fired instinctively, felling the creature that threw it with a three-shot burst to the head. The scope gave him his first good look at their faces. They had large eyes with reddish-brown irises. In place of a mouth, they had an array of mouthparts. That was the source of their name, as they had neither a jaw to form speech nor a counterpart to the delicate bones that were the organs of hearing. What looked like tufted ears in fact detected scent like the feelers of a moth. He took down another with two bursts. He then fired a grenade, set to burst over the heads of the others. That sent them scurrying back.

Nopalina opened fire with her pistol. Ajax looked to see three of the Kophon among the cacti. She felled one. The others tried to cut her off as she retreated through the chaotic garden. She still took time to pick three more fruit for her half-full bag. One of the creatures stepped directly into her path. Rather than draw the holstered pistol, she brought her carbine to bear. She fired the launcher instead of the gun. It discharged a needle canister almost point blank into the creature’s face. Ajax overheard her on a channel she obviously had not remembered was open: “Not now, Kiv… Yes, I am with her…”

A steady hail of projectiles pounded their armor. Most were mere rocks, but there were also seedpods that burned or burst in clouds of smoke. Mel was staggered by Ajax tried to cover Nopalina while Mel continued to pick off the main force of the Kophon. A dozen of them were circling the cactus colony. The Maiden brought down three with five bursts, emptying her clip. He took down two more and fired his last grenade. By then, Mel was firing bursts herself. At a quick glance, the King estimated that she had brought down at least 20, if not 30. She slammed a spare clip into her weapon. The cartridges transferred from the clip to the main feed with a clacking sound like billiard balls. “Something isn’t right,” she said. Then she resumed firing.

“We are leaving!” Ajax called to Nopalina. He winced as a rock struck his helmet. She shrugged and started running back. “Leave the bag!” She shook her head furiously.  Mel traded her rifle for the pistol as a group that threatened to cut them off. Two more Kophon went down. She risked a fully automatic burst without the stock that doubled as a holster, felling one more before the others scattered. She drew her grenade launcher and fired down a newly opened burrow that the group had emerged from. Nopalina scrambled up the ridge. Ajax hauled her up. Mel fixed the stock to her pistol and loaded a 20-round clip, just in time to fire a burst into the face of a lunging Kophon. They hurried along the ridge, with well over a hundred of the Kophon behind them.

The proboscis of the borer erupted from the sand as they retreated. A needle canister from Nopalina’s weapon shredded its hide without serious damage. Ajax grabbed the rifle from between Mel’s wings and emptied a clip. The rounds from the harder-hitting weapon drilled through and through. The creature withdrew. As they approached, Persephone set down her book and readied her weapon. Mel dived and pulled Ajax with her as the first volley went over their heads. “Sorry,” Persephone called out.

As they ran for the ramp, an especially large Kophon sprang out from beneath the ship. It reared up on hind legs, 3 Cubits high, directly in Mel’s path. Each arm bore slashing blades. Its mouthparts spread, revealing a gaping maw lined with teeth. Mel drew her sword and assumed a fighting stance, just before Persephone blew it in half. Mel could barely see through the orange gore that spattered her armor, but she made no attempt to clear her visor. She grabbed the Area Defense weapon, tripod and all, and raced up the ramp. Persephone gasped as Ajax threw her over his shoulder.

“We have to go go go!” Mel called out. She backed up to a wall mount that linked to her Lorica. The armor split open, allowing her to climb out. She scrambled into the cockpit proper, clad only in her Cingulum and inner mail. Ajax ran to her side, himself down to an undershirt and trousers. A push of a button started the firing sequence. As it counted down, they looked up… and saw a Kophon with a vastly enlarged skull standing on the canopy. Mel pushed another button, and the hum of the engine died.

 

“Well, they let us keep the fruit,” Persephone said as they rose to reunite with the main hull of the Amphion.

“The fruit’s no good,” Mel said. “It’s the wrong strain, and not ripe. The big one was probably trying to tell us that. I should have figured that out. The compounds will be unstable.”

“I still don’t understand,” Ajax said. “They let tourists come and shoot them to collect the fruit?”

“I told you, they’re a hive mind species,” Mel said. “The ones we saw were drones at the end of their lifespan. If we hadn’t put them down, they would have been turned into cactus fertilizer.”

Ajax shook his head. “Do people do this knowing the truth?”

“The tour guides have kept the real rubes in the dark,” Mel said. “They usually empty their guns in the air and run away as soon as they see one Kophon, never mind a hundred. I heard of one guy who got left behind when one of the marks hotwired his ship. The ones who pay enough for a real fight are usually in the know. It’s not risk-free. About 2% of professional hunts end in one or more human casualties.”

They cleaned the Lorica over a grate in the lavatory floor, using a detachable showerhead set for maximum pressure. When that failed to clean off the heaviest residue, Mel used a flame unit at the lowest setting. Ajax considered the fruit. “Does this really have value?” he asked sadly.

“Enough to make a profit on a successful hunt,” Mel said. She had finished cleaning the suit and started applying a powdered cleanser to a trail of gore on the floor of the bridge module. “They figured out how to synthesize the active compounds years ago. It’s difficult enough that only the pharmaceutical concerns can really afford it. Of course, they only market their products for approved, regulated medical purposes. Gray-area applications are only sustainable with a supply of the fruit. Now that I think about it, we could get something for this after all…”

Ajax clasped her hand. She looked up in surprise. “My Lady,” he said, “I still do not know if you would choose to be my Queen. But whatever comes, promise me this… Never go back there again.”

Mel dropped the bag. Several of the fruit rolled out. “All right,” she said. “By my name, I promise.” Then they kissed. 

The Legion of Silly Dinosaurs: Direct to Walmart Carnotaurus!

 

It's literally the last day of the month, and last month was the second time I skipped this, my longest-running feature. It crossed my mind that I genuinely feel that letting this go would truly be letting part of me fade away. So, I decided to see what I could dig out, and what I came up with was this, a Carnotaurus from my extensive direct-to-Walmart collection. It also happened that I already had a couple photos saved. Here's a couple pics on the Couch Mark 1, originally taken at the same time as my pachycephalosaurs post.

"What are orthodontics???"

Looking back, what I remember about Carnotaurus was that it was quite possibly the biggest "new" discovery at the time I was going from a kid obsessed with dinosaurs to a semi-mature student of paleontology. Sure, there were other major finds in the late 1980s-mid-'90s timeframe, like the nesting Oviraptor colonies, the first semi-complete spinosaurs, and Argentinosaurus and Giganotosaurus (which I still haven't gotten to). These, however, all felt like extensions of the old, either new and better remains of creatures we already knew about or bigger versions of same. Carnotaurus was something truly different, possessing not only horns but a very odd skull. On top of that, the type specimen was found with the most extensive skin impressions of any carnosaur, giving us our first (and in hindsight inconclusive) look at what they were really like. As a bonus, they got into the Jurassic Park franchise starting with The Lost World the novel, and had a role in Disney's Dinosaur. (That one really went down the memory hole...) Now, here's some more new pics on the Couch Mark 2.

Cut me out of the movie, will you?

And of course one with the Truckstop Queen...

Now for the part that really interested me, I had previously featured Carnotaurus thanks to the Mystery Box. As I commented at the time, that particularly cheap and silly awesome-looking dino actually did a good job capturing what made Carnotaurus unique, particularly its short skull and oddly small lower jaw. By comparison, the present specimen has struck me as a case of attempting to make it look "normal"; you can still see the features there, but they are subtle where the "real" thing is jarring. (There are also things that are just off, especially the oversized feet.) Here are a few comparison shots that for the most part confirmed my point. 

Yeah, who has buckteeth and bunny ears now?

Another detail is the jaw. It might be apparent that there is a joint to open and close the mouth. On inspection, it didn't open any further than already shows in the pics. More curiously, it doesn't really stay shut on its own. I finally had to put my hand in the frame to get a pic of the mouth shut. Here it is for completeness.

One more development in this saga is that I finally sighted another example of the little Carnotaurus in the wild, as part of a brand new set (in Walmart...). I had previously estimated this was from the 1990s, which I stand by as the likeliest provenance for the sculpt. It's always possible that this has been recycled for 20-30 years. As for the big guy, I decided to give him a few comparison shots with my other previously covered Walmart dinos, the spino and the Retro Raptor. Overall, it's not quite as good, but still well-done and definitely big. Here we go...

Don't make me start the argument whether I could kill a T. rex again...

So, that's one post to continue the run. These are always fun to do, and this time around, it actually went pretty quickly. I could talk about past, present and future, but what it all comes down to is that it's nice to work with a dino that's really cool. And why not one more with the Queen?

You think you're big? King Kong is my ex...

And that is all for now, always more to come!

Robot Revolution: The one that's the worst Alien movie

 

 

Title: Alien: Resurrection

What Year?: 1997

Classification: Weird Sequel

Rating: It’s Okay! (3/4)

 

With this review, I’m continuing my survey of robot movies, and after Willy’s Wonderland, I decided to do one more movie that I have been simply looking for an opening to review. As I have regularly commented, there are many movies that are simply “above the radar” for what I do, especially when it comes to franchises. I have worked around this rule when it comes to sequels, especially of the controversial and obscure variety. Even so, there is one franchise that I have still never featured, despite discussing it regularly since my second review. (Yeah, Inseminoid, you all owe me.) That ends now, and while I’m at it, I’m going to talk about why this monster franchise is also a big part of the history of robot cinema. I present Alien: Resurrection, and yes, it is not great. But, it can be a whole lot of fun.

Our story begins in deep space, where a secret government project has resurrected both the Alien and Ellen Ripley. They are both put under the care of one of the maddest mad scientists in history, who still hasn’t considered that if you need a host for a dangerous parasitoid, a dog or a pig should work as well as a human. Enter a crew of space pirates with a crop of kidnapped workers in suspended animation, who will never discuss the ethics of this again. The aliens spawn faster than usual, while the nosiest of the pirates connects with the clone of Ripley, now a hybrid of human and xenomorph. Alas, the aliens escape, with literally no opposition from the military crew, leaving the pirates and the Ali-Ellen trapped on board with the aliens. They must fight their way to an escape craft with the help of the least trustworthy of the remaining staff. But one of the renegades is not what he/ she/ it seems, and the queen is about to give birth to a brand new abomination!

Alien: Resurrection was a 1997 science fiction/ horror film from Fox and Brandywine Pictures. It was the fourth film in the Alien franchise created by Dan O’Bannon, developed after the character of Ellen Ripley was killed at the insistence of Sigourney Weaver in Alien 3. (Yeah, still thinking about that one.) The film was directed by French director Jean-Pierre Jeunet from a script by Joss Whedon. Weaver returned as the clone of Ripley, with Winona Ryder as Call and Brad Dourif as the mad doctor. Other cast included Ron Perlman (see Island of Dr. Moreau) as the pirate Johner and Leland Orser of Saving Private Ryan (yes, I recognized him) as the infected Purvis. The film was a commercial success, earning a box office of over $161 million against a $70 million budget. Jeunet returned to filmmaking in France, notably with the romantic comedy Amelie in 2001. The Alien franchise was not revived again until Alien Vs. Predator in 2004, which Weaver had refused to appear in prior to the release of Alien 3. Alien: Resurrection remains the final film in chronological order with Alien.

For my experiences, the Alien franchise was one more thing that I only got into at a ludicrously late date, which didn’t stop me from falling in deep. In all that time, my longest-running rant has been that I simply don’t believe in “canon” as applicable to the franchise (see, if anything, my review of Contamination). A big part of this is what Fox brought on themselves by dragging Alien 3 through development Hell just to turn out the most divisive entry in the entire franchise. But it’s also what I consider to be the best use of the franchise and creature: Keep the xenomorph, the universe and a few core characters, then let each creator do what they want. This has made me tolerant. I can take Alien, Aliens, Dark Horse, AVP, and even Alien 3 all in their place. The one thing I don’t like is being told that one entry in this vast mythos has to be accepted at the expense of any other, which has really happened only once. By comparison, the present film is the closest we ever got to an “official” film that embraced my own view of the franchise, and I have no qualms saying that what works bears out my point.

Moving forward, what can really be said about this movie is everything good and bad about the franchise, dialed up exponentially. Yes, the Aliens get as much plot armor as any of the human characters. Yes, the ship design is willfully useless. Yes, the characters repeatedly make stupid decisions for the benefit of the plot. But these are egregious for the franchise, not unique, and there are plenty of good points here, particularly a character actor-heavy cast that is well above average. Perlman and Dourif in particular are in top scenery-stomping form, somehow actually matched by Weaver. The Aliens, too, reach a surreal peak. The fine cinematography brings out the calculating menace of the creatures, and there’s real pathos from the final hybrid abomination. My pick for the two best shots in the movie are the intimate closeup of two preparing to dispatch a third (why did only Dark Horse ever think of making a cage out of dead Aliens?) and the CGI effect of a pair under water, not flailing but holding their arms at their sides for a torpedo profile. At peak momentum, this feels like either a live-action Dark Horse comic or what might have been if Roger Corman had made the first movie. (Old rant, yes, Galaxy of Terror was a rip-off, but Fox did kind of rip Corman off first…)

Then there is the robot angle. While the franchise has always been known for its title creature, it has always featured creative artificial intelligence, and this film in particular, the concepts are both developed and varied. On one hand, the ship’s computer “Father” is a fitting successor to the ship computer in the first film (really already there in Dark Star). The unobtrusive details of the ship’s functions gives a picture of decentralized artificial intelligence that is in many ways is more convincing now. Then there is (spoiler) Ryder as the android, powered by the still-unexplained gooey semi-organic tech. If anything, her character and arc is the one element that was clearly intended to be more than it is, an occupational hazard with a cast and story this bonkers. Still, she does have a part to play that becomes greater as her capabilities are revealed. It’s all the more intriguing to compare her with Ash and Bishop from the previous films. The earlier bots turned in some of the most memorable moments of the franchise, but they did not fundamentally challenge the role of the robot as either antagonist or subservient helper. Here, we truly have an AI with its (?) own agenda, with all the nuances and paradoxes that implies. There’s an extra layer of retrospective fascination in small details of behavior that don’t serve what we learn of her higher purposes. My personal favorite, by all means due for honorable mention as “one scene”, is an attempt to pick things up while wearing boxing gloves, with absolutely no pressure or encouragement from anyone else. It is a truly random moment, and that is exactly what makes a character interesting, AI or not.

That leaves the “one scene”, and I’m going with the one that has fascinated me for a very long time. As the inevitable escape unfolds, we find the military complement of the research ship running away, not only without firing a shot but seemingly without their guns. The troops at least line up to board the life pods in good order, overseen by the designated military man played by Dan Hedaya, if anything one of the more subdued of the character actors on hand. We get a good look at the pods, which have iris hatches and nifty retracting ladders. We see one or two on their way before an Alien comes into the frame, apparently still at some distance from the pod currently loading. We see the last guy climb in, then cut to the exterior, to find that the CGI-rendered creature has already reached the hatch. What follows is a stylized exterior view of the carnage (wait, is this referencing O’Bannon’s “B-17” segment in Heavy Metal?), culminating in the same unlucky guy trying frantically to get out. The commander shows no emotion as he sends a grenade clattering on the deck, shown with one of several very odd Rube Goldberg action/ reaction slow-motion shots. The pod ejects, just before exploding. That’s when we cut to the commander saluting his subordinate, without looking back at what’s coming. It may sound absurd in cold blood, and it is, but it’s a striking example of what makes the film actually work.

In closing, what I come back to is how I would rank not just this film but the franchise as a whole. When it comes to the first film and its original sequel, I have always punted. They are both excellent, yet at the same time too fundamentally different for direct comparison. By further comparison, the present film and Alien 3 are each flawed in their own ways, and by any standard outside of effects and action sequences, this one is far inferior. What makes the difference to me is that I find it to be the one entry that truly lets you take it or leave it. On top of its internal insanity, it sets itself far enough ahead that the events of the preceding films become more like legends and myth than “fact”. In this context, you could just as well say that this is a comic book or video game within the Alien/ Aliens cinematic universe, and its relative merits would be no less. Per my standard rants, this was in fact an acceptable “norm” well into the modern era of franchise genre films. I still stand by it as a valid alternative to the canon overanalysis people have become used to. With that, I can say that I have finally covered one more iconic franchise. That’s enough for one day. “Punch it, Bishop!”

Futures Past: "It's A Good Life" classic sci fi/ horror/ fantasy story

 As I write this, it’s the middle of the week, and I’ve been wavering between a number of different ideas what to do. I finally decided it was time to do something different, which was when I remembered I already had this, a post I hadn’t finished. I have recently been on a Twilight Zone binge, which ultimately included a review of the 1980s movie. Another resulting tangent was a reread of the story that was the basis for one of the most famous TZ episodes of all, “It’s A Good Life” by Jerome Bixby, the tale of a town held hostage by one Anthony Freeman, a child with the powers of a god. To accompany my review, I posted a few thoughts on the story in a newsgroup. With this post, I’m expanding this into a true essay.

The main thing I decided was worth writing about further is my personal experience with both the episode and the story. I saw the episode at a very early date, possibly about as soon as I had access to a TV. As I commented in the review of the movie, at that time, Twilight Zone still had a huge footprint. It aired regularly on weekend and daytime TV, plus the “marathons” that usually cropped up once or twice a year. There was also plenty of associated media, which would soon include parodies on the Simpsons Treehouse of Horror, not to mention the 1980s revival. Of course, the episode made a strong impression on me. That still leads to one of my specific memories of the franchise: At age 10 or 11, I recounted the episode to an older family friend who said he hadn’t watched the show. When I described the ending, he said he could picture it all.

It was a while later that I read the story, in hindsight after I must have read several other stories by the author. I probably first ran across it in the Science Fiction Hall Of Fame, which I believe may have been the only time I read it before my recent reread. It did stay in my mind as it continued to turn up in other anthologies I read or collected, including a collection from Frederick Pohl’s Star anthology series where the story first appeared. More recently, it has apparently slipped into public domain, leading to a number of postings of the full texts as well as a variety of readings and adaptations. Then and now, it fit my impressions of the writer before and since: Competent, polished, and creatively subversive, yet ultimately, deceptively unremarkable. My further and strongest impression was that the story is a very different and far more unsettling experience than the TV episode, even though the adaptation is among the most faithful on record.

Coming to the story, what can easily derail any further analysis is how to classify this very odd beast. It’s really science fiction only in the sense that it was first appeared in a genre publication, and then in an anthology format that offered far greater flexibility. “Dark fantasy” would be a better fit, yet still imperfect. The most obvious answer is to call it supernatural horror, notably at a historical low point when Weird Tales was a few years from extinction and only comics like Tales From The Crypt were moving in to replace it (one more important datum on how this ended up in an SF publication). To me, the best fit is “regional” fiction, especially in terms of the polished “mainstream” realism that is prominent both here and in the whole of the author’s body of work. (“Our Town”, which has turned up on public-domain sites, is if possible an even more horrific case in point.) What’s striking is that the story becomes even more jarring and perverse considered in these terms. In place of amiable stereotypes and idealized everymen, we have people who by all indications were in miserable poverty even before the actual demigod showed up. I find myself wondering if the author’s whole career amounted to jumping the fence of a field that had become even more hidebound and moralizing than science fiction had been in the 1930s.

Finally coming to the story itself, my first and central observation is that the scenario is so brutal that the only conclusion to be made is that these people are simply doomed. In the story, Anthony is only three, and has possessed his powers literally from birth. There are already fewer than 50 people left alive in the town, including less than 20 children. While no corresponding figure is given for the population pre-Anthony, the number of referenced and implied deaths (one from apparently natural causes) is surely in the double digits and very possibly in the hundreds. Thus, the few survivors who remain are most likely less than half the original population, and it will become clear that those who remain have not gotten any better at staying alive. On top of that, it seems very possible that Anthony may actually grow more powerful with age.

Meanwhile, what may prove especially jarring in comparison to the TZ treatment is that Anthony is treated quite sympathetically. Much of the story is for all intents and purposes from his point of view, and in his perceptions, the world of the story is one of wonder and ethereal beauty. It is especially intriguing to see an idyllic pond he has created for the town’s wildlife. Of course, even here, there are punishments meted out and a casualty from simple absentmindedness. This ultimately provides key context for the greatest horror of the tale: Anthony really wants to be a benefactor to the townspeople as he is to the animals, in exchange for the same simple-minded gratitude. The actual result is that his attempts to “help” terrify the townspeople even more than his sometimes justified outbursts of anger. This is illustrated early on by an ominously vague account of Anthony bringing a grieving widow’s husband back to life.

A fair amount has already been said about strong insinuations that Anthony isn't fully human in appearance, which culminate in a brief and grisly recounting of his birth. It's made explicit in the process that he has had his powers from birth. What I found most jarring, especially compared to the show and the movie, is that he only speaks once in the entire story, and then literally 2 words. This actually fits with his age as given in the story, with the surely intended implication that he could actually grow more powerful with time. One more especially striking difference from the TV and movie adaptations is that Anthony is actively sadistic rather than merely disproportionate in retaliation, notably compelling a rat to "eat itself" in the first scene. This gives a whole new element of horror, but to me, it actually makes the story feel significantly more routine. Unromanticized depictions of childhood were fairly common in and outside science fiction in the 1950s, which makes this story simply part of a trend. (However, it’s noteworthy that it was published a little before Golding’s Lord of the Flies.) What I found odd is that nothing more is made of this in the story as a whole, which ultimately makes a missed opportunity to challenge perceptions of “normal” behavior.

Something else I felt worth discussing are two characters in both the story and the episode, Aunt Amy and Dan Hollis. Amy is described at the outset as the victim of Anthony’s outbursts, which left her alive yet all but destroyed mentally. What becomes quite disconcerting is that she actually acts more “normal” than anyone else, and even gets away with complaining far more than anyone else. As a further nuance, it’s mentioned that Anthony might restore her to her former self once he better understands his actions, which of course only brings up still more horrifying possibilities. By further comparison, Hollis as the single human victim whose fate is shown in the story is far more obnoxious and ignominiously dispatched. At the party in his honor, he gets drunk and genuinely acts like a jerk to everyone present. The most striking difference is that he doesn't even get the benefit of the defiant, arguably heroic speech to Anthony that made the episode’s searing ending. Instead, he doesn’t even realize Anthony is there until it is clearly too late, then barely gets off a word before he's transformed into an undescribed abomination.

The greatest horror of the story ultimately lies in its most striking point of ambiguity, whether Anthony can simply bring people back to life. It’s already up in the air whether Anthony has isolated the town from the world or destroyed everything else, a point that works far better in the printed story. The further and increasingly strong implication is that this is for all intents and purposes a world of Anthony’s creation, and there is ample reason to consider whether the people are likewise his warped handiwork. As noted, we find out early that Anthony has tried to bring one person back to life, however imperfectly. Therefore, it is certainly possible that those who have survived are alive by his whim. The limited, already terrifying scenario (mentioned by others but not stated to my satisfaction) is that there are people the child demigod will not allow to die. The maximized interpretation is that those who think they have been spared have really already been killed and resurrected an indefinite number of times, very possibly remade each time even more according to his warped perception. An extra detail that fits far too well is Anthony’s “television” night, which the story portrays as entirely incomprehensible sounds and images- not “real” TV, but perhaps a child’s perception and idea of TV.

In conclusion, what I find after going through this is that I am conflicted about both the Twilight Zone episode and the story. As good as it was an adaptation, I no longer consider the episode among the best of the series. (The one that’s really crept up for that distinction is “The Silence”, which isn’t even “real” sci fi or fantasy/ horror.) Viewing it as an adult, I find it takes the right mood to appreciate it as anything but overdone. The story has aged far better, but stands out far more as a product of its time and a writer who could never quite make it into the top ranks. One might further wish that there could be a “do over” of the TZ episode that wasn’t limited by either censorship or effects technology. (The descriptions of the "sky" and "sun" would be hard to do with anything but CGI.) However, we already had our shot with the movie, and the people involved made what was probably the best choice by taking a different path entirely. Ultimately, the verdict on the story even more than the episode is that its greatest accomplishment was laying the way for better things. By all means read it if you haven’t, and reread it if you have. Just remember, things could be worse.

Robot Revolution: The one with Nick Cage vs evil pizza-place bots

 

 

Title: Willy’s Wonderland

What Year?: 2021

Classification: Improbable Experiment/ Mashup

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

 

With this review, I’m back to a feature I had already planned to keep going for a while, on robot films. I took a break from this feature to reconsider what I wanted to do to, especially in terms of chronology. I could easily go into the low double digits with movies from the 1970s-1980s timeframe I focused on with my Space 1979 reviews, and there are definitely a few I will get to. I could also go back to the earlier “classics” of the 1950s, or more of the “modern” wave that kicked off this feature. What I decided on was to continue my course with movies that truly span the history of robot films. It was at that point that I happened to watch a very odd movie I have wanted to get to but never found a place for, and I knew I had my next entry. I present Willy’s Wonderland, a movie about a man against 1980s pizza bots gone amok, which also just might be a case of so-bad-it’s-good on purpose.

Our story begins with a couple gruesome deaths for backstory. We then meet a nameless drifter who gets stranded in a small town after suspicious road debris shreds his tires. A leading citizen agrees to fix the car in exchange for one night’s work cleaning up an old pizza parlor. But a spunky young lady is already preparing to burn down the building, and the odd-job guy soon discovers why: The happy Eighties animatronic characters still in the restaurant have a life of their own. As the backstory dumps reveal, they are in fact possessed by the spirits of a serial killer and his cult of followers who once used the establishment as a front for mass murder. To placate the possessed machines, the townspeople have been sending in strangers to feed their lust for blood. Now, the bots are after their intended victim, and the girl and her friends are in the middle. But there’s more to the drifter than meets the eye. It’s man versus machine- and you don’t bet against Nick Cage!

Willy’s Wonderland was a 2021 horror/ fantasy film directed by Kevin Lewis, based on a 2016 short “Wally’s Wonderland” by screenwriter G.O. Parsons. The film was widely regarded as an unofficial adaptation of the Five Nights At Freddy’s video game franchise. Nicholas Cage reportedly signed on during preproduction, with a credit as producer. Other cast included Emily Tosta as the teenager, Beth Grand as the town sheriff and Jessica Graves as the bot Siren Sara. The robots and other effects were created by Molly Coffee. The musician Emoi was credited as composer and the voice of Willy the Weasel. A planned October 2020 release was delayed by the COVID pandemic. In early 2021, the film received a limited US theatrical release and simultaneous distribution for rental and purchase on digital platforms. As of 2021, Parsons was reportedly engaged in discussion of a sequel.

For my experiences, what I find I want to get out there is how much I dislike the term “so bad it’s good”. It’s exactly the description that gets applied sooner or later to many if not most of the films I watch, review, and actively enjoy, but to me, it is the label of outsiders looking in. It’s my further observation that the common denominators of the movies that really earn the title (see Deep Rising, Maximum Overdrive and The Hidden) can easily be reframed as positive qualities: Fast-paced, character-driven narrative; engaging dialogue (often from good actors); and the self-awareness to use genre “cliches” effectively. Needless to say, these things heavily overlap with the filmography of Nicholas Cage, who in hindsight was going off the rails back in the middling 1990s. With that context, I was intrigued as soon as I got word of the present film. I went out on a limb and paid for a digital copy. I was and remain impressed… but even by my standards, this is weird.

Moving forward, the obvious things to say are about its place in the genres it draws on, and this account for certain strengths and many of the cons. Like many supposed “so bad it’s good” its films, this rides the line between satirical and “straight”, a lot less effectively than the “good” examples I have noted. It tries to get much of its humor simply by referencing slasher movie formulas, which does lead to a few good gags at the expense of a surprising amount of outright padding. What’s most debatable are not one but two backstory dumps (so, exactly what I would probably do) around the midpoint. These follow the established tropes of both cinematic and literary horror closely enough to be defensible as satire. At the same time, there’s enough development to give a sympathetic picture of a community that is manipulated, corrupted and simply scared stupid by what is on paper one of the most ludicrous Eldritch Abominations on record. Overall, it goes far enough to address the usual obvious objections why the cursed location hasn’t been boarded up or turned down, but it comes close to “too much ant not enough”. On one hand, this could have been developed into the idea of a malign presence whose power and influence might extend far beyond the setting. On the other, there can be no argument that this could have worked perfectly well with no “explanations” at all.

That brings us to the bots and the completely silent protagonist, who in a very real sense both represent the robot concept. Technically, these are supernaturally possessed machines rather than AI, which I have so far treated as an outgroup here (compare to The Lift). This is further emphasized by their very clear intelligence and open sadism as they play with their prey, especially from Graves both voicing and performing as the fairy bot. On the other hand, their look and movements are unquestionably mechanical, and they very effectively capture the gulf between dream and reality in ‘80s vintage robotics and animatronics. One nice touch is that it’s never entirely clear how much they have decayed from their peak condition and how much of the uncanny-valley creepiness was there all along. Another is that their strengths and vulnerabilities are reasonably balanced, which only heightens the brutality from both sides. (If it comes to that, only Willy himself ever does anything that their human opponents couldn’t.) As already alluded, they’re altogether more human than Cage as the drifter, who not only doesn’t say a word but rarely registers an emotional reaction of any kind. Even more surreal is his evident fixation on taking his breaks at a preordained time, several times leaving others to fend for themselves (usually, of course, badly). It’s a showcase of things that shouldn’t work but do, thanks to both the filmmakers and the actor. It does become remotely believable that this would be the one person who could defeat the bots one on one, even without a “backstory” to explain his evident abilities. The contrast comes to a peak when he faces two of the bots (including the fairy), to an incongruous song that nevertheless fits what’s on screen a little too well.

Now for the “one scene”, I had way too much here not to give at least one honorable mention, which I’m giving to a fight in the bathroom and Willy’s unnerving musical number. (If you’re still asking questions, this probably isn’t for you…) The one I was always leaning to, however, is around the midpoint, when one of the villains corners one of the teens in an arcade room. While the guy hides, we get an unusually good look at the especially odd bot, independently identified as Cammy Chameleon. The head is almost star-shaped, with the buggy eyes sticking out more than usual. When the kid stays in hiding, the bot starts to talk, voiced by Madisun Leigh, otherwise listed as a writer and producer. It’s not the first time we’ve heard speech from the things, but it is by far the longest and most interesting dialogue. (It’s telling that there still isn’t quite the level of characterization we get from the fairy.) The lizard-thing tells the boy that she has been mistreated by her companions. She further insists that she knows about the afterlife and wishes that she could leave the animatronic abomination. That’s enough for the kid to come out into the open and talk, and even the viewer might wonder if there isn’t emotion and a measure of truth behind the very human voice. It’s a fitting capsule of the film as a whole: We know where this is going, yet it’s far more intriguing than it needed to be. The one thing that is a bit on the nose is that before it’s resolved, we cut to a grownup talking about things we already know.

In closing, what I come to is the rating. I haven’t used the “unrated” category of my primary scale since the Revenant Review feature (and ebook) I introduced it for. The real reason this one gets there is that I honestly concluded it didn’t belong here. If there was a “right” place to review this one, it was for No Good Very Bad Movies, not because I consider it “bad”, but because that was the one feature where I would have been prepared for a film that makes as many willfully odd choices as this one. There, I could have given it the highest rating. Here, however, it only gets in by default, and I still simply can’t compare it to anything else. For me, it’s enough to give this film the respect it by all means deserves. With that, I have one more out of the way.

Miniature Giants: Universal Monsters Glow In The Dark Reissues!

 

It's the start of a week I was planning to use for a full lineup of posts, and I'm already a bit late getting this started. Fortunately, it happens that I thought to save a few leftovers from my last Marx post. So here I go with another sequel, this time about the Universal Monsters line I covered from exactly one figure before. While I'm at it, here's a pic I was going to use before of my "new" acquisitions with the freakishly tall Campus Cutie girl.

Now for some previously covered backstory, the Marx Universal Monsters line was released in 1963, the first year of the 6-inch figures. This was an evidently licensed release, since the bases of the figures have Universal Pictures along with the Marx branding. What is of some note is that this was not entirely necessary, as Universal had itself cut legal corners by claiming to use sources in the public domain, and in some cases used works and characters that had been adapted for the screen before. Needless to say, I'll get to that in more detail. In any event, these were evidently popular at the time and continue to command respectable prices in online listings. That was followed by reissues, most notably by Uncle Milton in the 1990s. The company made the further move of selling the figures with paints for the artistically minded, like the Mummy figure shown in the top photo for the post. They also released glow-in-the-dark versions of the figures. Initially, I wasn't that interested in these. Eventually, I got a Hunchback of Notre Dame figure that went in the backlog. Then, during the buying spree where I acquired other figures covered earlier this months, I picked up a figure purporting to be the Phantom of the Opera, and that was where things got intriguing. Here is a pic of the pair together.

Now, what's interesting about these figures is that they most closely resemble the silent films of Lon Chaney, the original makeup/ suit effects guy. With the Hunchback, the figure is just kind of generic, though the grotesque asymmetrical face (photos do not pick up detail on these things at all) certainly looks like something Chaney would have created. The Phantom, on the other hand, most definitely resembles Chaney's version far more than anything else. The twist is, Marx could easily have gotten away with using the characters without Universal's permission. The studio had made the original films (one more reason to downgrade the status of Dracula), and in the case of the Phantom followed with a sound version in 1943, but they would both have fallen into public domain status by the 1950s. The reasonable inference is that the Universal licensing was a matter of cooperation rather than necessity, securing the right to reference the studio's name and films directly in marketing as well as the use of iconic original characters like the Mummy and Creature From The Black Lagoon. Now that I think of the legal angles, the absence of Dracula makes a lot more sense. Given the infamous litigation around Nosferatu, I find myself wondering if Universal was paranoid about an adverse ruling. Now, here's a few more pics. From the back...

Closeup; yeash, this makes Chaney's work look a little tame...

Profile; I think this really caught the most actual detail of any of these...

And one more with the Mummy; this damn thing would be gruesome for a McFarlane figure!

One more thing I'm going to shoehorn in is a little terminology: "original", reissue and recast. As I have commented (see my video on the Star Wars scale figures), what to call original is already a bit of a gray area, as it can include things like the Ukrainian figures (also now a video). I for one am willing to count anything made with Marx's permission up to the company's bankruptcy in 1979. For "reissue", I consider the present figures to be a good example of the most useful criteria: They were still made in the "vintage" 1980s-1990s period; they were sold commercially in the United States; and perhaps most significantly, they were at least nominally made and marketed for kids rather than adult collectors. By further comparison, I would prefer to use the recast designation for items made within the current millennium, which are likely to be made for the US collector market even though most are made in Mexico (see my Space Guys unbagging). For the moment, this remains a minor distinction that really doesn't even have much effect on price, but things could get a lot more complicated down the line.

And while I'm at it, here's a bonus because I already went through all the hoops to use them. These are pics of a full set of Soviet soldiers from Ukraine, used with permission from seller Double Duncan Treasures. Per the seller's very helpful correspondence, these were played-with figures from an owner from eastern Europe, originally part of a set that also included Wild West and Viking figures. Of most interest, he reports that about half of them have Cyrillic markings, which failed to translate as anything but abbreviations. He also confirmed that the reddish color is that of the original plastic rather than an aging effect. Here they are...

And that catches me up. That's all for now, more to come!

Animation Defenestration: The one that's the Mario movie

 

 

Title: The Super Mario Bros Movie

What Year?: 2023

Classification: Mashup

Rating: It’s Okay! (3/4)

 

As I write this, it’s the middle of what I had planned as an off-week, but it just happens I’m at the limit of my time frame for a review of a movie I actually saw in the theater, something I have been doing a lot more often lately. It’s another film that simply blew up my usual channels (see M3GAN and Puss In Boots 2), and once I saw it, I knew I would have to review it now or wait for it on home video. I present The Super Mario Bros Movie, and what really settled this was hearing someone sing the “Peaches” song in church.

Our story begins with a ca 1990s alleged rap about a certain pair of plumbers, which does prove to be intended as a joke. We then follow Mario and Luigi on a job that leads to a mysterious sewer pipe that opens into a universe of colorful mushroom people, war-like turtles and other wacky creatures. Mario meets up with a Princess named Peach from Earth who has become leader of the shrooms, while Luigi is taken prisoner by a dragon-like mega-turtle named Bowser. It turns out that the leader of the Koopas is out to conquer the Mushroom Kingdom and have Peach for his bride, because there really was a time when forced marriage was on the board for a kids’ movie. Mario must seal an alliance with a kingdom of gorillas to fight the Koopas. But will he be in time when the Princess is dragged to the altar?

The Super Mario Bros Movie is a 2023 CGI animated film by Illumination in collaboration with Nintendo, based on the Nintendo game series first released in 1985. It was the first theatrically-released film based on a Nintendo property since the 1993 live-action Super Mario Bros. The film reportedly entered pre-production in 2018. The voice cast was led by Chris Pratt and Charlie Day as Mario and Luigi, with Anna Taylor-Joy as Peach and Jack Black as Bowser. The soundtrack was composed by Bryan Tyler based on music composed for the NES games by Koji Kondo. The film received mixed to negative reviews on release, but saw strong box office returns and favorable reviews from animation critics and fans of the franchise. The in-film ballad “Peaches” performed by Black was reported as a Top 100 Billboard success. As of mid-April 2023, it has earned a box office of over $700 million against a $100M budget. Several press releases have confirmed development of a possible sequel and other Nintendo adaptations.

For my experiences, Super Mario Bros and NES games in general were one more thing I got to fairly late. What stands out looking back is that the franchise and fandom weren’t initially “kids’ stuff” even to us Eighties/ Nineties kids. The original NES titles were genuinely hard games we took seriously. The pixelated early 8-bit graphics of the original in particular actually gave a more realistic feel than the openly cartoony imagery of the later entries. The lasting effect on me has been a certain dissonance, between the “mature” franchise that might have been and the colorful, kid-friendly whimsies now taken for granted. With that frame of reference, I can at least comprehend what the people behind the legendary live-action film were trying to do. (Yeah, I was working up to it…) Once I saw arguments brewing over the present film, I decided to take a look. What I found was very much a reverse of the ‘90s film, freely celebrating the “cartoon” side of the franchise. What intrigued me is that it still shows the dark edges that were there all along. For that, I was willing to dive in, and I definitely count the damn song.

Moving forward, the obvious thing to say is that this movie is the definition of playing it safe, and a textbook case of the merits of that approach. The characters, the creatures, the traps and the music are all here, in forms easily harmonized with their earliest counterparts in the games. The result is just the right balance of matter-of-fact familiarity and a renewed sense of wonder. On that vein, I must point out that Princess herself as a playable and capable character by Super Mario 2, which is very clearly referenced here. (Even for what it was, that one was weird…) What’s of interest is that the sequences that most closely follow the games are contextualized as training exercises within this assumed universe. The intriguing result is that the actual action scenes come across as much higher stakes, especially a surreal showdown at the wedding. By implication, this is not a “game” that can be won or lost, but a fight where neither side is obligated to play fair.

That brings me straight to what I definitely wanted to talk about, the depiction of Bowser. In my head canon, Bowser per the games was always courtly “lawful evil” (which figured in my more-misbegotten-than-usual fan fic). Here, he is a flat-out, unambiguous, completely contextualized bad guy, which after a decade of twist villains and “misunderstood” tragic figures is refreshingly old-school. This already shows in his fixation on the Princess, which I have already been ranting is in no way redeeming, let alone “romantic”. Where his nature really comes out is his quite casual mistreatment of his own men (?), who always take it in stride. What is truly intriguing is that he clearly does have a legitimate bond with the troops, who only start to lose their enthusiasm when he goes on too long about his yearning for the Princess. Here, at least, one might draw a picture of a flawed tragic hero, to the extent that he could surely find a more or less willing female somewhere in the ranks (assuming that’s even how their biology works…), but that is a small thing indeed. One more curious twist is that the “romance” between Mario and the Princess is simply left out. That, too, is an honest choice that fits the story. To me, however, it represents the greatest compromise. Making Mario as obsessed with the Princess as Bowser (by now fairly routine in fan fiction including mine) would force the viewer to consider the darker side of the character and the rescue-fantasy convention as a whole. But, of course, that kind of fridge-horror deconstruction is the one thing we didn’t need with actual children in the audience.

Now for the “one scene”, I really couldn’t avoid the in-film rendition of the song. Now, I’m having to go by memory, so I might get a little of this wrong. This actually starts with Bowser discussing his plans to propose to the Princess, which at this point could still be kindly interpreted as misguided and overconfident rather than actively malevolent. That is when Bowser breaks out his love song for Peach. It’s nothing more or less than a hilarious send-up of the 1980s/ ‘90s power ballad, with all the cringey subtexts that were already there. The minion (I know, Kamek) politely questions the plan, while unwisely playing a few notes himself. Bowser responds by slamming the piano cover down on his hands before getting up to leave… and specifically denying him permission to remove it. I have to say to the film’s credit that the implications are in no way minimized: This isn’t villainy watered down or ramped over the top; this is just plain evil. It’s unfortunately telling that even with this clear context, the meaning is already losing out to memes.

In closing, what I come back to is how I feel about the movie. For me, this can’t bring out any special sentimentality. Even back in the old days, there was too much I missed or got to very late for me to be nostalgic about the franchise the way others might be. The flip side is that a film like this doesn’t lose anything by doing something new, which this one certainly succeeds at. It was never going to be great, and it might not be remembered long, but it is good fun with just the right amount of thoughtfulness. For me, that’s enough for a shout-out on an off week. Onward and upward…