Space 1979: The one I saw in a theater

 

Title: Innerspace

What Year?: 1987

Classification: Parody/ Mashup

Rating: Downright Decent! (4/5)

 

I have regularly commented on my uncanny memory and the role that has played in my pop culture experience. Some of my earliest recollections regarding movies are of going to the theater, but even for me these are relatively few and far between. I’m sure I can remember seeing Return of the Jedi, An American Tail, and one of the Muppets movies, all when I was no older than 6. I can even remember seeing what must have been the “Rite of Spring” sequence from Fantasia before the 1990 re-release, which from independent reading would have been in 1982, when I was 2. Most of what I can remember, however, starts at about age 7. The present review is among these relatively early recollections, and also one of the very first I can place in pretty specific context. With that, I introduce Innerspace.

Our story begins with introductions to two characters: Tuck, a daring test pilot in a rocky relationship, and Jack Putter, a neurotic clerk still trying to learn to stand up for himself. When Tuck volunteers to be the test subject for a shrink ray or something like it, a series of hijinks and slapstick puts his minisub capsule inside Putter. The pilot manages to communicate with the clerk, right about the time a vaguely defined group of spies and profiteers catch up with them. Under Tuck’s guidance, Putter manages to stay ahead of the bad guys long enough to make contact with the pilot’s girlfriend Lydia. Meanwhile, Tuck must navigate the hazards of the human body, culminating in a showdown with an uber spy shrunk down to pursue him.

Innerspace was directed by Joe Dante, who had built up his reputation with Gremlins, with none other than Steven Spielberg as executive producer. The script was written by Chip Proser, who openly acknowledged the production as an unofficial remake of the 1966 film Fantastic Voyage. The cast was led by Dennis Quaid as Tuck and Martin Short as Jack Putter, with Meg Ryan as Lydia, Kevin McCarthy as the nominal villain and Vernon Wells as his far more imposing henchman Mr. Igoe. The supporting cast included Robert Picardo, later the holographic Doctor of Star Trek: Voyager and First Contact, as an arms dealer referred to as the Cowboy. The film made slightly less than its $27 million budget at the US box office, but turned a profit with foreign showings and especially on home video.

My own experience with this movie was a trip to a double feature, probably at a “dollar theater”. I can remember the title of the other movie, which I can confirm existed, but my further recollections are so weird and gross even I can’t believe I really saw it. Fortunately, Innerspace made a much better impression on my and the family members I went with. Most of what I can remember readily is the effects sequences and the banter between Tuck and Putter. The whole spy story arc and a fair amount of innuendo must have gone entirely over my head, though I can remember a scene where the clerk’s checkout scanner malfunctions disastrously. I saw it at least twice more before I bought it for the viewing that led to this review, most recently during a ride to work during the 2016 election. (My memories of that year are really not great.)

I thought of covering this movie in the course of pondering the possibility of reviewing a “straight” ‘80s comedy or actioner as a frame of reference. Where other movies here have mixed sci fi with other genres, notably The Hidden, this one was a comedy first and foremost, and watching it reaffirmed the extent to which I still don’t “get” 1980s comedies, especially from later in the decade. The actual jokes are funny, the dialogue (especially between Quaid and Short) possibly more so. What continues to elude or repel me is the underlying atmosphere of stereotypes, insecure masculinity and awkward innuendo. What strains me more than the comedy is the spy storyline and especially the villains. The silent, cyborg-like Mr. Igoe is one thing the movie does absolutely right, played by Wells with all the exaggerated humor and deeper menace of the late Richard Kiel as Jaws. If he was the leader or most visible representative of the forces of evil, there would be no further complaints from me. But the film tries to be more sophisticated than it is by adding multiple schemers and factions, none of whom really have a more interesting motive than making money. I have no doubt that this was meant to be a quasi-political statement, and it certainly was a prescient point for a world still in the last stages of the Cold War. But it was the kind of idea that should have been either better developed or set aside.

By comparison, the genuine science fictional scenes are very good, and carry far more weight than can be credited from the relatively short screen time they occupy. As noted, many of the best moments come from the interplay of Tuck and Putter, with some extra awkward humor when various bystanders overhear the latter’s side of their conversations. The scenes of the inside of the body are surprisingly subdued, particularly when compared to the psychedelic visions of Fantastic Voyage, with only a handful of true action sequences. The most effective is a scene where the pair manage to share a drink (which I mercifully misunderstood), followed by the appearance of an unborn fetus when the minisub is transferred to Lydia.

For the “one scene”, there is truly one sequence that keeps this movie memorable, and it is the dogfight between Tuck and the miniaturized Mr. Igoe. The villain’s capsule looks like a cross between a deep-sea exoskeleton and the Slave 1 as he closes in, flying against the perpetual storm of the windpipe. Tuck bests his attacker in a grapple of mechanical appendages, and the enemy ship crashes (which can’t be doing anything good for Jack Putter!). However, the villain ejects and comes back, sporting a drill as the deadliest of a series of prostheses to be seen in the movie. The combatants tumble down to the digestive track, captured as a churning pool of stomach acid. As the villain bores into the minisub canopy, Tuck makes a desperate call to Jack, just before they make the final drop. The outcome is revealed in one last unforgettable shot, which (in contrast to Jaws) resolves any question of the villain’s humanity.

Overall, Innerspace is a perfect illustration why so many of the comedic films I have featured stand out to me as forward-thinking by comparison with their contemporaries. The wackiness of Dark Star was a desperate counterattack against isolation and despair; the satire of The Hidden and Night of the Creeps dug below the surface of society’s niceties; and Deep Space at least wore its anxieties on its sleeve. By comparison, this movie does not reach the heights or depths of other sci-fi comedies/ parodies, but I can grant that even this one is a little ahead of the curve. Its two male characters actually learn from each other, and when the adventure ends, they have further developed rather than blundering their way to a happy ending. It’s impressive enough for a movie that was sold as dumb summer fun, and one more reason why this one has still never been forgotten.

Rogues' Roundup! Jabba the Hutt, McKenzie Brother and Gas Station Duchess revisited

 

For today's installment, I'm covering a couple rogues that will be new to this feature. After pairing the Truckstop Queen and Ken R. Wampa, I thought on and off about the possibilities of another unlikely pair, but only one emerged. About this time last year, I picked up a figure that didn't quite fit with anything else. What I finally settled on was to make him a buddy of Jabba the Hutt.

Backing this up, Jabba the Hutt was one of the Kenner toys I wanted most as a kid but never seemed to get. I can remember playing with it at a cousin's house, and I can remember seeing it on a clearance sale at the ludicrous date of 1987, the last times I ever saw a new Star Wars toy. I can even remember a time I found a loose Hutt on sale, but didn't get it because I didn't have the money. I finally got one a few years back, along with a mostly intact throne/ pedestal/ thingie. Here's a few pics of the big guy and accessory.

"As I was saying before the unpleasantness with Professor McQuarrie and the Rancor, Plato's concept of forms shows us...."

"It's a perfect fixer uppper!"

What struck me when I got a good look at the Kenner incarnation of Jabba was that he seemed more intelligent than the original movie character, even  philosophical. I tried taking a few pics in some more incongruous poses, or as much as I could with only the swinging tail and semi-moveable arms to work with. Then I made one of my usual mystery buys at a comic store, and things started falling into place. Here's a few pics of the other guy.

As anyone who's read this blog would expect, I saw this guy and decided to take him home before making any attempt to figure out who or what he was. The beer can and the boxes were thrown in the deal. I did find out from the staff that he was a character from Strange Brew, which I looked up later. (Staff at the same store once sold me a Barnyard Commando, and knew what it was when I asked for it.) In about the time it took me to get home, I figured out it was Bob McKenzie, played by very young Rick Moranis, as well as the fact that this one really was from McFarlane. The figure is nice and plenty of fun with a few flaws. One is the open hand, which looks more like an open eagle claw. The other and more serious problem that the figure is sculpted in a sitting position (photos of the item on card show a chair included), which made it hard to make a place for him. I found one place that worked just right, and a new partnership was born.

It was a perfect pair, but I decided there was room for something more. I tried pics with the Truckstop Queen and Ken. Then, when I got couple sisters of the Queen, I decided to try adding one of them to the group. Here they are with the Gas Station Duchess and the rest of the rogues, and that's what I really had to do to get her in a "sitting" position.

"So if I work... and have money... I can buy my own beer?"

It looks like she's sitting on the slab, but that's only because her feet are bearing the weight.

"You call it a slave collar, I call it an accessory."

Meanwhile, I've continued to debate what to do with the extra figure. I finally decided I didn't mean keeping her in the box when not needed, but I still hated looking at the slave garment. So here's the third sister post emancipation, on the right; I think I'm going to call her Cassie.

"Whoever said different is good never saw us."

That's all for now, more to come!

Space 1979: The one where Rob Lowe’s brother rescues Buffy the Vampire Slayer from Hell in a 1940 Ford

 

Title: Highway To Hell

What Year?: 1991 (completed)/ 1992 (limited theatrical release)

Classification: Irreproducible Oddity/ Mashup

Rating: Pretty Good! (5/5)

 

As outlined at the very beginning (even before the Introduction), this feature was conceived as an overview of 1970s and 1980s sci fi with a focus on the period from 1975-1985. At the same time, I always meant for this among other “rules” to have at least a few exceptions. With this review, I’ve finally gotten to the big one that I’ve been planning on, a 1990s movie. In the process, I have considered a fair number of movies, but as usual, there was one that was never in doubt. It is in fact the most egregious example of a 1990s release that still feels like an “Eighties” movie. It also happens to be one of the most mistreated, neglected, unclassifiable and flat-out bizarre movies to reach the light of day in the “modern” era. I present Highway To Hell, and the first thing to know is that it does not at any point use the AC/ DC song.

Our story begins with two youngsters named Charlie and Rachel trying to elope in a Ford Pinto. When they take a wrong turn on a desert background, they are suddenly pulled over by a literal cop from Hell, who grabs Rachel and drives away in a patrol car fit for Mad Max. Charlie seeks the help of an old man, who gives him a semi-antique shotgun and a souped-up hotrod for the trip to Hell and back. With his new ride, Charlie finds the Hellcop’s portal to Hell, which proves to be a desert landscape where the sun never sets and the damned souls roam the same desolate roads as the demons. He chases the Hellcop to an infernal city, with the aid of a repairman named Beezle and his adopted son. At his destination, he discovers that Rachel has been offered a chance to be no less than the bride of Satan himself. The damsel must make her choice, and then the pair must make their way home, with Hellcop in pursuit.

Highway to Hell was made by Hemdale, a low/ medium budget studio previously responsible for The Terminator and Return of the Living Dead, on a budget of $9 million. The company was then in a convoluted web of financial troubles and internal intrigues that undoubtedly contributed to the questionable handling of the film, which had its release delayed for over a year and then was consigned to a limited release for a gross of about $30,000. Filming was completed in Arizona and Utah, with outdoor shots of the desert serving as the Hellscape. Chad Lowe and Kristy Swanson of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the movie) were cast as the hero and damsel, with Patrick Bergin as Beezle and C.J. Graham of the Friday the 13^th franchise as the Hellcop. An extensive supporting cast included Kevin Peter Hall of Predator, Ben Stiller and his family members Jerry Stiller, Amy Stiller and Ann Meara. Its theatrical run was followed by a comparatively successful VHS release, but the film then fell “out of print” until its release on DVD and Blu Ray in 2016.

For this one, things are going to get complicated. To start with, I decided some time ago that I believed in the Semitic archetype of Tiamat far more than the conventional figure of Satan, the rebel angel and pet enemy of God; while I can’t say this movie contributed to this, it certainly has a role in my appreciation of it. As for my direct experiences with the film, I can remember seeing a favorable review of it in the local Arizona paper at the time it (barely) came out. Many years later, I ran across it in Netflix streaming, which it was dropped from soon after. I kept an eye out for it for several years after that. When I saw that it finally got out on disk, I immediately ordered the Blu Ray and finally set up a Blu Ray player that had been sitting in the box for a few months.

With all of that in the background, I still have trouble deciding what to make of this movie. In style, themes and implied theology, it feels like a cross between Dante’s Inferno and that of Larry Niven, with touches of C.S. Lewis’s The Great Divorce. The film’s vision of Satan is pretty close to that of the Book of Job, unquestionably evil but potentially a necessary evil, while Hellcop is as inscrutably inhuman as the chthonic god-demons of the Greek netherworld. By comparison, the lesser demons and the damned are mostly indistinguishable from each other in their meanness and banality, like inmates and jailers who have reduced each other to noise-level apathy. The concepts are greatly improved on by the sets, makeup and effects, particularly a stop-motion Cerberus, as well as the aggressively cool soundtrack. Then there are the gags and visual puns, usually awkward but rarely without a measure of weight, notably a scene where the least fortunate souls are reduced to asphalt.

Perhaps inevitably, the story of the hero and the damsel almost fades into the background. Charlie is likeable without being especially virtuous (particularly in a debate whether to consummate a marriage in the Pinto), while Rachel is evidently kind with a touch of spunk that keeps her from being too absorbed in pleasing her man. The devil’s temptations become a moderately effective allegory for the tensions of their relationship. Then, again, there is Hellcop, sometimes called Sgt. Bedlam, so uniquely implacable that it is easy to picture him someday trying to take out his boss. Finally, I have also not even tried to cover the side story of Royce, the one character who seems able to make a bargain with the Sergeant; that is one story best appreciated in the context of the movie.

For the “one scene”, the choice far and away is an incidental stop by the Hellcop at a diner. He is met outside by a Ben Stiller as a ghoulish cook frying eggs and bacon on the pavement. Inside, the diner is filled entirely by the souls of damned policemen, presumably punished for varying combinations of corruption and incompetence. The zombie-like patrons literally groan for donuts and coffee, in a clear homage to Return of the Living Dead, while the only waitress (played by Meara) chatters inanely behind the counter. When Hellcop enters, he chains Rachel to the counter with handcuffs that are actual hands, and is promptly served donuts and visibly boiling coffee. One of the desperate customers, if I’m not mistaken played by the late Jerry Stiller, finally grabs one of Hellcop’s donuts. The rest of the damned cops promptly scatter as Hellcop turns to deal with the interloper, allowing Rachel to make her move. It’s a scene that’s surreal, awkward and not really that important, yet it perfectly encapsulates the movie’s post-modern vision of damnation.

Once again, my closing comment is on the rating. This movie is the second for which I have been tempted to introduce an “unrated” category (which I’m probably going to get to if/ when I start doing animation), the other being Zardoz. As with that film, I literally felt that I had to go with the present rating or none at all. Of course, there are plenty of things that can be said to counter this: The story is strange and often doesn’t make sense; the jokes are usually awkward at best; the production values are even more dated than the time the film was actually made; and it failed in large part because the strange concepts and marginal execution directly alienated audiences as well as those responsible for distributing and marketing it. But to count all these things against it is like condemning Zardoz simply for being a freaky, semi-pornographic 1970s flick; whether or not you like it, it clearly is what its creators meant it to be, and this time, I for one like it.

The Legion of Silly Dinosaurs: King Kong dino and archosaur!

 

Today's installment is a sequel, under another feature that I realized I should have used to begin with. Last week, we met the (terrible) King Kong figure released for the 2005 remake/ reboot, including the dino that came with him. I'm back with some more material, including the most interesting beast of the line. To start with, here's some better pics of the dinosaur, this time with some army man-style figures that came with them.

The most interesting thing for me was digging out the mini figures. I think I found about half the ones that would have come with the two sets I bought. Others would have included a native and Ann; I didn't even remember having the latter. They're pretty good quality, with a satisfying level of stylization. The pics should also show the good quality of the dino, and why I have kept him in much higher esteem than Kong. The toys and tie-in media called the creature Vastasaurus, and this one in particular was labeled  as a juvenile. Here's a pic of Kong with one of the little guys.

"Aw, it thinks you're... okay, a giant murderous ape."

My one other purchase from the line was the one that really interested me. It was sold with the name Foetodon, which should make it clear they weren't going out of the way to sell this one. It clearly isn't a dino, but it does look about right for one of their archosaurian ancestors and relatives, like the semi-famous Postosuchus. Here's some pics of him.

"The good news is, it's not a real dinosaur. The bad news is, it will still eat you."

All in all, this is a cool beast, but like Kong himself, there's an awkward pose built around a gimmick. in "normal" position, the body is strangely twisted with the head turned sideways. The legs also point in strange directions, making the beast look crippled. In pictures of the item in packaging, it's positioned to look like a bird's-eye view, but for anything like normal play (clearly a minor consideration at best), the jaws have to be turned 90 degrees, and it still looks like the thing is tiptoeing along. The big gimmick is that if a part of the back ridge above the hips is pressed, the whole thing goes limp like one of the old "collapsing horse" toys. There's a dial or crank in the belly that's supposed to tighten the mechanism and straighten things out. From what I can remember, it never worked that well, and I have little doubt it's worse now. Here's a shot of the thing in gimmick mode

Roll Over! Play dead! Uh... I don't think that's playing.

A decade and a half later, the Kong line is still charming enough. Like the movie they tied in with, they faded out of memory, to be replaced by newer incarnations. The line would definitely have benefited from more attention to real "play value". It should teach the further lesson that what's good to play with will also look good, even if most of the people who buy it are going to leave it in the box. To wrap up, here's a few more pics with the Truckstop Queen and Duchess.

"Let's keep this casual, okay? I just got out of a long-term relationship with an emotionally codependent vampire."

That's all for now, more to come!

Space 1979: The one where a cop hunts a generic Alien

Title: Deep Space

What Year?: 1988 (video release)

Classification: Knockoff/ Mashup/ Anachronistic Outlier

Rating: Pretty Good! (5/5)

 

When I first posted my introduction for this feature, the most specific guideline I laid down for myself was to stick with movies that got a theatrical release. This proved to be easier to stick to than I expected, and I think it was in part because of the ca 1975-1985 timeframe I have focused on. In the early 1970s, there was a wave of well-made and influential movies made for network television, notably Duel which was actually modified for theatrical release, while the 1990s saw a boom in “direct to video” releases that has in a sense continued all the way up to the present. But in the late 1970s to mid-80s, even the sketchiest low-budget films (see Planet of Dinosaurs) would at least hit the independent theatre circuit. Still, I have thought on and off of doing at least a few video releases, and with this review I’m finally getting to one that is not just one of the best home video releases but one of the best knockoffs of its era.

Our story begins with a space capsule falling to Earth, monitored by a group of scientists and government military types, followed by the grisly deaths of a few waifs who wander onto the scene. We then meet a cop named McLemore, who actually gets put on leave for shooting a couple bad guys. He and his partner still investigates the scene and several more grisly deaths, including a forensic examiner killed in his own lab. He soon discovers that the deaths are the work of a monster created by the military as a biological weapon, which turns out to bear a striking resemblance to a certain franchise-building extraterrestrial. He also discovers that the creature has already hatched several insectoid offspring, one of which lunches his partner. To save the day and the Earth, he must find the creature and its young, with help from a lady cop, a psychic and government agent or two.

Deep Space was directed by Frank Olen Ray, an independent/ low-budget filmmaker who had pioneered the direct-to-video market with films such as Alien Dead and The Phantom Empire. The production company of record was Transworld Entertainment, a media conglomerate that included Tower Records. Unusually, the production cast several relatively well-known actors, including Charles Napier as McLemore and Julie Newmar as the (totally useless) psychic. Some sources give a date of 1987, but the actual release date is reported as April 1988 without serious dispute. Its creature design was undisputedly copied from Alien, with the suit construction being credited to a team that included Steve Patino, also credited for Critters and Predator (!). In more recent years, the movie has been available on DVD and Blu Ray, and was also available for streaming on Netflix. Unfortunately, the disc releases have become somewhat expensive, while streaming appears limited to unauthorized and uneven “bootleg” uploads.

For my personal story, I personally first watched this one on Netflix, along with The Falling. I’m sure I knew of the film beforehand, and may have seen it on video store shelves back in the day, though (unlike a few others featured or slated for review here) I’m not sure of that. I considered it for this feature very early, but hesitated when I very belatedly discovered it had been a direct-to-video release. I was more deterred by the relative difficulty of finding it, as well as further reservations after I got a look at the director’s work in The Phantom Empire, which among other things lifted effects shots directly from Planet of Dinosaurs. I finally watched a very iffy online video of the whole movie, with caution and moderate optimism.

What immediately impressed me was that the movie was not only well-made, but almost unaccountably believable. The creators clearly committed to the police-procedural angle, and while that certainly shouldn’t be the benchmark for realism then or now, it’s certainly at least as realistic as plenty of “straight” cop shows and movies from the same time. Even more importantly, it presents characters who are convincing and usually likeable, with even the generic government agents coming across as simply doing their best in an obviously volatile situation. What really stands out is the dialogue, which is exactly where far too many “serious” ‘80s movies turn either self-dating or entirely “cringey”. In fact, there are a lot of moments that could easily fall into either category or both, yet there is a consistent level of nuance that at times makes the movie feel a little too relevant. This is especially true of the aftermath of a police shooting early in the movie. Also noteworthy is a completely incongruous bit of dialogue where the two cops compare their guns and their manhood. On paper, it should be pure “cringe”, yet it feels more applicable and flat-out honest for circa 2016 than 1988.

Of course, the center of it all is the creature. This is where the movie actually falters a little. The main creature suit is obviously well-made, but it’s equally clear that many sequences were made around its known or likely limitations. Most of the time, the cameras alternate between the slow-moving or stationary creature and its victims, while a set of tentacles allow it to strike without coming into direct contact with the human characters until the film’s final scenes. This is made up for by clear, steady camerawork and the genuinely freakish design, which gives it the feel of something out of a comic book or video game rather than a live-action movie. (By comparison, choppy shots were the main thing that turned me off with Forbidden World.) The limitations of the budget become even more conspicuous with the facehugger-like larvae. Their construction is clunky and their motion is glaringly mechanical. Still, they can move at a very good clip, plus, they are clearly durable enough to stand up in a convincing scuffle with the cast members, which is more than can be said for plenty of better-looking practical-effects creatures.

That brings us to the “one scene”. Just a little past the hour mark, the cop chases a creature that killed his partner to a nearby house. He breaks in, and finds a terrified woman ready with a bat. Rather than identify himself, he simply says, “Where is it?” After tracking the creature to the kitchen, he chases it with the bat to a bedroom closet. He pulls out a frilly piece of clothing as tha damsel comes up behind him. He turns and warns her to leave, then tosses the unidentifiable garment back in the closet. Suddenly, it comes fluttering back out, just before the creature leaps out. When the hero misses again, the monster goes for the damsel, and he finally catches it as she struggles. The creature literally goes flying out a bedroom window. When the cop goes back outside to find it, the big surprise is that there is no surprise.

Overall, this movie gets my pick for the best Alien “knockoff” I have reviewed or considered, both by creature effects and design and overall production quality. I was all the more impressed to discover that it wasn’t made for theatrical release. What makes it truly interesting is that it is another movie that feels both too early and too late. The linear story-telling, filming and editing (which might themselves have been dictated by home-video production values) have an old-school feel, even for the 1980s. The character development, dialogue and themes rise to the standards of the time, with just enough touches to feel well ahead of it. It’s enough for me to give this a higher rating than otherwise better films, and this one was good to begin with. It’s worth a look, wherever you can find it, and it’s all the more worthwhile to make sure the powers that be know people still want to see it.

For links, the image credit goes to John's Horror Corner, which gives a more critical take I can respect. I also recommend a review at The Schlock Pit, posted just a few weeks before mine, which gives the best overview anyone's likely to get of the production history. 

Rogues' Roundup! Truckstop Queen And Gas Station Duchess??

 

For today, it's another adventure of the Truckstop Queen. I've found out more about my favorite reference model recently, including the fact that she was made not by Macfarlane but an outfit called Moore Action Collectibles. I had previously known and documented that she is "really" Cordelia from the Buffy/ Angel series. One more thing I had figured out early on is that here was another version of her, sometimes identified as a prototype, which had shorter hair. Over the last week, I finally ran that lead down and came up with not one but two new figures. First up in our lineup is a figure in box, which I managed to get entirely with bonus points on my Amazon account.

What I discovered was that an alternate version of the figure was created from an Angel episode titled "Over The Rainbow", where the character becomes a slave to creatures from an alternate Medieval/ fantasy universe, which sounds like exactly the kind of adventure I might have come up with. It was sold both on card and in box. As seen above, the picture on the box clearly shows a different hairstyle that was evidently the basis for the Truckstop Queen. The figure came with two accessories, a shovel an a sort of wicker bucket, and a slave gown made of actual fabric. I opened the box to examine the accessories and figure. Here's some more pics.

"You see here a shovel from the Middle Analog period..."

You can look, but don't touch the... packaging.

Obviously, the accessories were a bit of a bust. I had particularly hoped there might be a stand, but had no such luck. I also quickly confirmed that only the right hand would hold either accessory, and fitting the shovel in particular made me honestly afraid of damaging the Queen. I also quickly gave up trying to figure out what they were thinking  with the garment, particularly since a clip from the episode (the only Buffy-related viewing I plan on) showed the actress in modern denim clothing. To investigate that further, I waited for another acquisition, a figure out of the box that actually cost a bit more and came with an extra accessory. Here's some pics of the next new arrival with the Queen.

What is that thing, anyway? Medieval hospital gown? Post-apocalyptic lingerie?"

The next step was to get the slave gown on, something I knew others had done. It became all too clear that it wasn't going anywhere on its own. After a few minutes, I resorted to a pair of nail scissors, which did the trick well enough. What this revealed was an obvious "recolor" of the original figure's body, which was good enough for me. Both the pants and top are blue, maybe running toward purple for the latter, apparently to match the denim outfit from the episode. Here's some pics of the pair, plus a closeup of what the gown was like when I got done with it.

"If it bleeds, we can kill it. And make fun of dreadlocks."

"We look good coming or going..."

The obvious difference is that the short-haired sculpt has a movable head. There's also a little extra detail visible on the back, as seen above (and of course that's what we were all looking at). However, beyond a certain point, the turned head starts to go a little "uncanny valley". Here's a closeup to show what I mean.

"What, haven't you seen a lady with a letter opener before?"

One more thing I figured out is that there was one more sculpt with a bright red top. This was the one I recalled seeing sold as a "prototype". By the most detailed account I could find, it was in fact released in 2002 as a comic-convention exclusive, a year after the other figures, clearly as a further recolor of the short-haired "slave" figure. Regardless, it commands a higher price than I would care to pay. And now, the story pic you knew was coming (because I said so last time)....

Double date!

That's all for now, more to come!

Space 1979 Threequel Trilogy Finale: The one where Superman fights a supercomputer

 

Title: Superman 3

What Year?: 1983

Classification: Weird Sequel

Rating: For Crying Out Loud!!! (2/5)

 

For the conclusion to this miniseries, there was only going to be one choice of franchise, and it’s another that was on the board almost if not quite from the beginning. However, it still posed a hard decision regarding the “threequel” format, as the series includes one especially notorious later sequel and an even more notorious spinoff I haven’t decided on. Even so, I never seriously doubted that one particular entry was uniquely worthy of attention, and a repeat viewing only confirmed my assessment. Without further ado, here is my review of Superman 3, and even as I write I’m not sure if this is going to be very short or very long.

Our story begins with a picture of life in the city of Metropolis, which seems to be populated entirely by Clousseau-level klutzes or clinical-grade sociopaths. In the midst of a series of mishaps, Superman appears to rescue the one guy who needs his help least, and then flies off. We then meet a hard-luck case named Gus who gets offered a job in computers. While Superman/ Clark Kent goes through minor adventures and a trip to Smallville for a high school reunion, Gus discovers that his new employer is an aspiring supervillain less interested in conquering the world domination than in manipulating it for his own profit. The villain’s ace in the hole is a supercomputer that allows him to seize control of traffic, shipping and less plausibly the weather. His minions are less successful in an attempt to neutralize the Man of Steel with synthetic kryptonite, which fails to kill him but transforms him from do-gooder to a disgruntled prankster. While Superman struggles to rediscover himself, the villains discover that their computer is no longer under their control. The only hope for the world and the bad guys is an unlikely teamup of Gus and the superhero against the seemingly invincible machine.

Superman 3 was the last movie in the franchise to be produced by Ilya and Alexander Salkind and star Christopher Reeve as the hero. Richard Lester, previously responsible for finishing Superman 2, directed the film. Annette O’Toole was cast as the new semi-romantic interest Lana Lang, while Margot Kidder’s role as Lois Lane was comparatively limited, possibly due to further disputes with the director and producers. The supporting cast included Richard Pryor as Gus and Robert Vaughn (previously sighted in Battle Beyond The Stars) as the villainous tycoon. A digital graphics sequence was created by Atari. Merchandising included a loosely connected game from Parker Bros. The next film in the series was 1984’s Supergirl, produced by the Salkinds with Helen Slater as the starring heroine, followed in 1987 by Superman IV: The Quest For Peace, made by Cannon Films (also responsible for the Lou Ferrigno Hercules movies, Alien Contamination and Lifeforce) with Reeve returning on the condition of a nuclear-disarmament subplot.

In my personal experiences, the Reeve Superman movies were something I grew up with without quite being aware of them. Of course, I knew about the superhero, far more than I can easily account for given that I literally never read a new DC comic, and I knew someone had been making movies. (I also distinctly recall the Superman arcade game.) However, my first recollection of seeing any of them in full was an airing of the first movie in high school. Prior to that, my experiences with the series were short bits of the movies on TV and glimpses of books and merchandise in the wild, including a long-vanished board game lying around the house. In hindsight, it seems like almost everything (including the damn game) was from Superman 3.

It was with that frame of reference that I finally hunted this one down, after seeing the first movie, the original sequel (aka the good one), the spinoff, and even Superman 4 in yet another TV encounter. My immediate reaction was that, while it might not be quite the worst, it was easily the most obnoxiously self-dating. Just by comparison, Superman 4 at least brought the anti-authoritarian possibilities of the superhero genre into the Man of Steel’s moral universe. Superman 3, on the other hand, is as self-dated and purposefully inoffensive for most of its length as an early 1980s cartoon. Most of the gags are simultaneously contrived and mild, the romantic triangle barely gets as far as “romantic”, and it is all easily 20 minutes longer than it has any reason to be. As a bonus, Richard Pryor’s performance is almost 100% “cringe”. On that particular front, my only other experience with the actor is his Star Wars Bar sketch, and that alone is enough to say that this movie is a literally complete waste of his talent.

Any original or watchable moments in the movie before its finale come in the “red kryptonite” subplot. Even here, things are hit or miss. An awkward “date” with Lana Lang sets a reasonable bar. His pranks are uneven and far too mild to be interesting, particularly a sequence where he “fixes” the Leaning Tower of Pisa, while an implied tryst with one of the villain’s minions is a flat-out miss (particularly given that Superman 2 effectively acknowledged the “Man of Steel, woman of Kleenex” conundrum). The most well-realized part of the arc (and strong contender for the “one scene) is a sequence where the superhero gets publicly drunk. This is the one truly unnerving moment in the movie, above all for the total silence as Superman sits and drinks, ignoring the terrified patrons and disgusted onlookers, pausing only to flick the beer nuts with enough force to shatter the bottles and glasses behind the counter.

What I still am struggling to explain is how weird the movie is, yet how rarely its strangeness translates into anything effective or even particularly creative. The most obviously surreal moment is the junkyard fight between the warped Superman and Clark Kent, though this unquestionably “works”, all the more so for its seamless blending of the allegorical figures with their very physical surroundings. The scenes of technological mayhem manage to come in close behind, with or without an incomprehensible moment when the men on a traffic signal come to life. Then there is the above-mentioned “slapstick” opening sequence, which feels like a Looney Tunes short dragged on far too long. The most perplexing moment comes when Superman arrives to rescue someone who could just as well have been saved by Clark Kent with a crowbar. To me, it is this one moment that breaks the whole grand illusion of the mythos, and the movie never manages to put it back together. That further reminds me, some day I must writer a review of Hancock and just how well that movie deconstructed the comic book superhero on the genre’s own terms.

As for the “one scene”, even with this movie’s riches of embarrassment, there was only one scene I could have chosen, and it is the only one I absolutely remember seeing back in the 1980s. In the movie’s finale, the villain realizes that the supercomputer has not only threatened to overpower Superman but escaped his own control. He and his minions run for it, but the hindmost, identified as his own sister, is snared by the machine. In a matter of seconds, the woman is transformed into a cyborg, 6 years before the Borg hit the airwaves. The effects are all kinds of not great, even by the standards of season 2 Star Trek: Next Generation. But what the camera focuses on is the minion’s terrified and agonizing expression as plating and circuitry cover her face. It’s all the existential horror of Trek, condensed into a few seconds of screen time. This is the kind of all-too-brief moment that stays in the mind long after anything before or after fades into the general blur of memory.

This is another movie I would probably have given an even lower rating if not for the consideration I’ve shown to other movies covered in this feature. (My biggest act of mercy is still ahead.)  With that caveat, I can still say without hesitation that I consider this movie the lowest point of 1980s “franchise” movies. Of course, there are worse movies and worse sequels (see Jaws 3), but one would be hard-pressed to find one that invested this much money, talent and genuine imagination and still came out with so little to show for it. With that, the series is done, and I’m going to watch some sequels that are actually good. Maybe Nightmare on Elm Street 3. Or Terminator 3. Or Critters 3. Or Star Trek 5. And say, what did Superman ever need with a spaceship?

For links, the image credit goes to Board Game Geek. As always, see the feature Introduction for an overview of the concept, classifications and rating system.