movie night

Movie Night [Sci-Fanuary]: Judge Dredd

Dr. K3 Comments

January sees the celebration of two notable dates in science-fiction history, with January 2 christened “National Science Fiction Day” to coincide with the birth date of the world renowned sci-fi writer Isaac Asimov, and HAL 9000, the sophisticated artificial intelligence of Arthur C. Clarke’s seminal 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), being created on 12 January. This year, however, I’m spending every Thursday of January celebrating sci-fi’s toughest lawman, Judge Joseph Dredd!

Released: 30 June 1995
Director: Danny Cannon
Distributor: Buena Vista Pictures / Cinergi Productions
Budget: $85 to 90 million
Stars: Sylvester Stallone, Armand Assante, Diane Lane, Rob Schneider, Jürgen Prochnow, and Max von Sydow

The Plot:
In the year 2080, the world has become a scorched wasteland and the Judges enforce martial law in the overpopulated Mega-Cities and Mega-City One’s most efficient and decorated officer, Judge Joseph Dredd (Stallone), is framed for murder by his own half-brother, the psychotic Rico (Asante), who plots to usurp the oppressive regime with an army of superhuman clones. 

The Background:
It was thanks to British science-fiction comic book 2000 AD and the work of John Wagner, Carlos Ezquerra, and Pat Mills that readers were introduced to Judge Joseph Dredd in March 1977, a tough-as-nails lawman known for his extreme political satire. Dredd’s subsequent popularity meant that Hollywood soon came calling, and long-time fan Danny Cannon pursued the project with a passion, even turning down the chance to helm Die Hard with a Vengeance (McTiernan, 1995) in favour of this adaptation. Although development stalled somewhat thanks to the similarly-themed action/sci-fi satire RoboCop (Verhoeven, 1987), production soon got underway once Sylvester Stallone was cast in the title role, beating out his action movie rival Arnold Schwarzenegger despite being unfamiliar with the character. The filmmakers looked to Blade Runner (Scott, 19982), to bring the sprawling Mega-City One to life and rejected designs from famed fashion mogul Gianni Versace for the film’s costumes. Initially shot to be an R-rated feature with a darker, satirical bent, Cannon clashed with Stallone over the direction of the film and was left so disappointed with the star’s insistence towards comedy that he vowed never to work with the Italian Stallion again. This was largely reflected in subsequent reviews, which criticised the film’s confused tone and disappointing production. While the visual appeal of the film has been praised, Stallone’s performance was not; the tie-in videogame was also a disappointment and a box office gross of under $115 million made the film a commercial flop. Both Stallone and Dredd co-creator John Wagner expressed disappointment with the film and it would take nearly twenty years for the character to return to cinema screens.

The Review:
As I mentioned in my review of Judge Dredd’s debut story, I’ve been a big fan of the character since I was a teenager, largely because of my dad. I was always ore drawn towards Dredd’s clashes against the Dark Judges and his more momentous storylines, such as “The Cursed Earth” (Mills, et al, 1978), “The Day the Law Died” (Wagner, et al,1978 to 1979), and “The Judge Child” (ibid, 1980), which is fitting since Judge Dredd draws several influences from these stories for its core narrative. I was just the right age for Judge Dredd; while I was regularly enjoying violent sci-fi romps like RoboCop, I also enjoyed colourful, action-packed sci-fi comedies like Demolition Man (Marco Brambilla, 1993), so my expectations for the film were simply to enjoy seeing a stern lawman of the future kicking ass in a visually entertaining environment. This means I have a certain level of nostalgia for the film; it was, after all, the only live-action Judge Dredd movie available for decades and it’s not as if the character had a more violent animated series to fall back on. At the time, if you wanted Judge Dredd, it was either this, the comics, or a handful of videogames, but that doesn’t mean that my opinion of the film hasn’t changed as I’ve gotten older and come to appreciate the subtle dark comedy and violent nature of the source material. It’s a shame as well since Judge Dredd gets off to a good start (it’s always a plus when James Earl Jones provides an opening narration) and has more positives in it than a lot of people like to acknowledge, but it fumbles on some of the most basic characterisations of its title character in order to appeal to a wider, more mainstream audience.

Hard-nosed Dredd is framed for murder and forced to confront his psychotic brother.

Don’t get me wrong, I totally understand this. R-rated movies like RoboCop might kick all the ass but they’re a bit of a risk for producers and investors, especially when it comes to comic book properties and especially back in 1993, when many superheroes where being bastardised commercialised for maximum profit. Thus, Judge Dredd, the straight-laced, grim-faced, by-the-book lawman of the future who is just as likely to prosecute innocent bystanders to nail a perp, is transformed from a tough, no-nonsense future cop into a more heroic figure over the course of the movie. Dredd starts out as a pragmatic and uncompromising officer; he shows no fear, even when outnumbered and outgunned, and has not hesitation in gunning down criminals to quell a riot. Similarly, he doesn’t hesitate to slap former convicted hacker Herman “Fergee” Ferguson (Schneider) with the maximum prison sentence simply for trying to save himself from being caught in the crossfire. Dredd’s rigid enforcement of the law has earned him quite the reputation; ordinary street punks fear him, and rightfully so, and his lack of humanity and propensity to favour summary execution draw criticism from fellow Judge Barbara Hershey (Lane) and Dredd’s mentor and father figure, Chief Justice Eustace Fargo (von Sydow), who orders him to spend time at the academy training the future generation of Judges not in combat but in the enforcement of ethics in an attempt to inject some humanity and compassion into Dredd’s approach. Although Dredd is clearly unhappy with this assignment, he follows his orders because he has such respect for his mentor and he truly believes in the world of the law, following the literal book to the letter and committing his very life and soul to upholding its ideals, even at the expense of his emotions and empathy.

Whether through compassion or “humour”, both Hershey and Fergie help to humanise Dredd.

Dredd’s cold demeanour is contrasted by Hershey, the closest thing he has to a friend. Although Dredd has respect for all of his peers, he openly acknowledges that Hershey is “one of the smartest of the new breed” and turns to her to defend him when he’s accused of murder out of respect for her capabilities. Unlike Dredd, Hershey is far more empathetic; she chastises herself when her rookie Judge is murdered on her watch and openly disagrees with Dredd’s philosophy that Dredd’s must commit their lives to the law until they either die on the streets of venture out into the Cursed earth for “retirement”. Indeed, she’s perfectly happy to openly criticise him for being too harsh and lacking in humanity and is both hut and betrayed when the evidence condemns him as a traitor. Moved by the emotional depths Dredd displays after learning of his true origins, she agrees to help him track down Rico both out of a genuine loyalty and affection for him and to avenge the losses her and her fellow Judges have suffered at Rico’s hands. Much of Judge Dredd comedy is focused on Dredd’s stoic demeanour and the awkwardness of him relying on others after he’s betrayed by the very system he dedicated his life to. Have no fear, though, as Fergie is here to act as the comic relief of the film and boy, does it start to grate very quickly. Unlike his simple-minded comic book counterpart, Fergie is a former hacker who, after serving his sentence, finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Naturally, he objects to Dredd’s harsh sentencing and cannot help but laugh at the irony of the grim Judge being convicted for a crime he didn’t commit, but Fergie has no choice but to rely on Dredd when they crash in the Cursed Earth and end up in the clutches of the notorious Angel Gang. From there, Fergie acts as Dredd’s bungling sidekick; a dead weight he’s forced to lug around. Indeed, Fergie’s hacking talents really have no relevance until the last act; Dredd has Hershey and tech-savvy cadet Nathan Olmeyer (Balthazar Getty) to offer more practical help, so Fergie is literally just there to offer manic “humour” that basically amounts to him being a nuisance. However, his presence does tie into the film’s attempts to humanise Dredd; Dredd’s stoic façade and aggravation towards Fergie noticeably lifts as they spend more time together and there’s a genuine sense that the two have become begrudging friends by the finale.

Fargo reluctantly opts to step down to protect Dredd and the sanctity of the justice system.

The Judges have a great deal of resources at their command, from Lawgiver pistols that fire an array of ammo to Lawmaster bikes that let them blast through the skies (when they actually work). What they don’t have, however, is manpower; with the city growing more volatile, Judges such as Dredd are forced to rely on more extreme measures to safeguard the citizens, and this draws them much criticism from the likes of news reporter Vartis Hammond (Mitchell Ryan). Hammond’s sentiments are echoed by Chief Justice Fargo, a well-respected and long-tenured senior Judge who is burdened by the responsibilities he feels towards the welfare of Mega-City One. He’s reluctant to enforce harsher methods as he wants the Judges to stand for freedom and justice rather than oppression and, while he’s a figure that commands great respect, it’s undeniable that his beliefs are opposed by Dredd and even those in his council, like Judge Jürgen Griffin (Prochnow). Fargo is equally reluctant to reactive “Project: Janus”, an abortive attempt at cloning Judges rather than recruiting them, and is conflicted by his guilt and affection for Dredd, whom he sees as a son since he was cloned from his genetic material. After seeing Rico, Dredd’s clone brother, descend into madness, Fargo fears that he’s made a mistake in placing so much faith in Dredd but ultimately agrees with Griffin’s suggestion to take the Long Walk and spare Dredd’s life rather than risk the truth about Project: Janus being released and what little faith the people have in the justice system being compromised. A compelling and commanding presence, Fargo delivers much of the film’s emotional gravitas thanks to Max von Sydow’s alluring performance; his death is an emotional moment not just for the audience but for Dredd, too, who struggles with his turmoil of emotions his mentor’s revelations and passing stir up in him.

As if the corrupt Griffin wasn’t enough, Dredd has to contend with the cannibalistic Angel Gang.

Of course, it turns out that Fargo’s retirement is orchestrated by Judge Griffin in a conscious effort to remove him from the council, ascend to the role of Chief Justice, and coerce his fellow councilmembers into reactivating Project: Janus. Griffin sees the escalation of crime and violence in the city as an epidemic, one that must be stamped out with every resource at their disposal, in order to bring about “an ordered society”, even if it means suppressing basic human rights. To this end, he conspires to release Rico from his imprisonment, frame Dredd for the murder of Vartis Hammond and his fellow councilmembers, and instil his own brand of order to the city through the deployment of a new batch of genetically enhanced clones. Of all the character sin the film, I’d say that Griffin is the most changed from his comic book counterpart; here, he’s an ambitious and antagonistic schemer who wants to reshape the Judges into his own image, but even he is aghast when Rico tampers with the clones so that they’re born from his genetic material rather than the wise and benevolent council. Griffin is contrasted by the admirably faithful Angel Gang; a mutated group of in-bred misfits who have turned to cannibalism and madness in the wastelands of the Cursed Earth, the Angel Gang are comprised of patriarch Pa Angel (Scott Wilson) and his backwoods sons Junior (Ewen Bremner), Link (Phil Smeeton), and Mean Machine (Christopher Adamson). Unfortunately, we don’t learn too much about them except that they’re God-fearing misfits who openly torture and kill anyone who stumbles into their territory; Mean Machine Angel, always the most visually interesting and tragic of the family, is an obvious standout thanks to his raging temper and cybernetic enhancements but, sadly, they’re mainly included as a brief obstacle for Dredd to overcome while stranded in the radioactive wastelands and could’ve easily been replaced by the same nameless, faceless Judges who later enter the scene anyway, but I appreciate the effort used to translate them to the screen, however brief it was.

Bolstered by his robotic bodyguard, the psychotic Rico plans to cause cause across the city.

Our primary antagonist is, of course, the psychotic and strangely alluring Rico. Like in the comic books, Rico is Dredd’s clone brother but, unlike in the source material Dredd is unaware of this until late into the second act. While Dredd embodies the law and everything it stands for, Rico embodies chaos; a former Judge and Dredd’s only true friend, Rico turned to wholesale mayhem and destruction and was sentenced to death as a result, which directly contributed to Dredd adopting his cold-hearted demeanour. However, Judge Griffin intervened and saw to it that Rico was simply incarcerated so he could use him as his agent to bring about his new order for Mega-City One. Griffin unleashes Rico, hoping he’ll stir up anarchy, but quickly loses control over the maniacal killer, who reprograms a battered old Atomic, Bacterial and Chemical Warrior (ABC Warrior) to act as his bodyguard, murders the council, and sets about birthing his own bath of clones. Rico is an undeniable highlight of the movie thanks to Armand Asante’s snake-like performance; he’s constantly walking the fine line between reason and insanity, flipping on a dime between the two and coming across as a volatile and unpredictable personality with a surprising amount of depth. Rico was hurt when Dredd brought him to justice and feels betrayed by him, but also wishes Dredd to join him in restructuring the justice society, with Dredd as Chief Justice, in a bid to build a true family. Rico is also assisted by Doctor Ilsa Hayden (Joan Chen), a woman who’s primarily there to help Rico with the clone science and to give Hershey someone to fight in the finale; otherwise, she may as well not be there and she’s just a one-dimensional piece of ass-kicking eye candy that just stands next to Rico and reacts to his monologues.

The Nitty-Gritty:
It’s interesting that the tone of the film veers so far away from the more violent and dark humour of the source material, especially as the opening credits consist of a collage of various Judge Dredd and 2000 AD comic book covers as an acknowledgement of the film’s roots. To be fair, there is an attempt at evoking the violence of the comics throughout the movie; squibs and blood effects are prominent when characters are shot, especially during the opening Block War and subsequent shootouts, and Warden Miller (Maurice Roëves) suffers a particularly brutal shot to the throat during Rico’s escape. A lot of the more gruesome violence is rendered offscreen, but this is actually beneficial; when Rico orders the ABC Warrior to rip off Chief Justice Fargo’s arms and legs, the noise is enough to know how horrific that fate is, and there’s even a brief shot of the Angel Gang’s latest meal being chargrilled on a spit roast. It’s pretty obvious that the film was cut to avoid being slammed with a higher rating, but my main issue with the tone is the over-reliance on Fergie’s comedic mishaps to counterbalance the few, fleeting violent moments, though I do enjoy the dynamic between him and Dredd, especially when Dredd begrudgingly considers Fergie’s usefulness as a good luck charm and some of the Judge’s stoic one-liners. And Stallone has some great quips here, from his booming declaration of “I am…the law!”, his surly growl of “Courts adjourned”, and his explosive outburst in the trial scene! I also have to compliment Alan Silvestri’s rousing score; it strikes a fantastic balance between heroic, military-esque, and stirring and really bolsters the onscreen action as only Silvestri can.

While some effects haven’t aged well, overall the film holds up and impresses with its visuals.

One area where Judge Dredd really excels is in its visual aesthetic and presentation; obviously drawing much of its inspiration from Blade Runner, the film’s rendition of Mega-City One is as a sprawling, technologically advanced, overcrowded super-city that merges recognisable landmarks like the Statue of Liberty with impossibly high, futuristic skyscrapers. Neon signs, holographic projectors, and impressive technology such as flying cars, artificial intelligence, and mechanical conveniences are commonplace and many of them, like the Judge’s Lawmaster motorcycle, are comically unreliable. Indeed, there’s a definite sense of the city being cobbled together and everything has a very “lived-in” look; while the Judges have access to sleek toys and vehicles in contrast to the gritter back alleys where riots are frequent, there’s a definite sense that everyone’s just trying to make the best of what they have on offer, which ties in perfectly to the rising tensions in the streets over strained resources and overcrowding. The special effects hold up really well thanks to being a combination of miniatures, matte paintings, and practical effects; even the Cursed Earth and the exterior of Mega-City One have a grand sense of scale and CGI use is sporadic and not too glaring, though the Lawmaster chase through the city skyline does look a bit suspect. I can forgive this, however, as the flying vehicles and visual presentation is, overall, very impressive and very reminiscent of the source material. This is true of the Judge’s uniform; if anything, the film adheres too close to the source material here, translating the uniform into a form-fitting body suit bolstered by gleaming armour when it should probably be realised as something a bit more practical. Still, the Judges look great, especially Dredd; their helmets, badges, and armour are all extremely faithful to the source material and the same is true of Mean Machine Angel. My favourite of the Angel Gang, this psychotic cyborg is brought to gruesome life through the use of heavy prosthetics and my only complaint is that he doesn’t get much screen time. Similarly impressive is Rico’s recommissioned ABC Warrior; styled after Hammerstein and brought to live as a fully functioning practical effect, the ABC Warrior has a real weight and presence in the film and all of these real-life special effects make up for the few wonky special effects and help Judge Dredd stand the test of time even to this day, at least in terms of its visual appeal.

After a strong start, the movie commits the cardinal sin of removing Dredd’s helmet and making him a hero.

Of course, Judge Dredd betrays the very essence of the character within the first twenty minutes of its runtime when Dredd “[stands] at ease” and removes his helmet! I absolutely understand why this decision was made; if you’ve hired Sylvester Stallone, you want to see his face and it helps the character, and the actor, to express a greater range of motions but it undeniably goes against everything the character is known for. In the comics, Dredd essentially loses his humanity and individuality after Rico turns against the law, becoming the embodiment of the justice system, flaws and all, rather than a simple man. While he’s still that here and Dredd gives a particularly rousing speech to the young cadets regarding the level of commitment he expects from every Judge, the film is much more focused on humanising Dredd, turning him from a grim, almost robotic character and into a more compassionate, heroic figure… not unlike the narrative arc seen in RoboCop. Unfortunately this really doesn’t fit with Dredd’s characterisation and appeal; the whole point is that he’s a tough, but fair, enforcer of the law in an increasingly lawless society. Any political or social commentary is dumbed down in Judge Dredd, which approaches such aspects with a disappointingly toothless attack, but Dredd removing his helmet is basically a slap in the face to the audience, a way of saying “We’re here to make money”. The biggest irony of this is that the film has the perfect excuse to have its cake and eat it too; all they had to do was cast Stallone in a dual role, playing both Dredd and Rico, then he could’ve kept the helmet on and still been allowed to act with his face unobscured. Asante could’ve been cast as Judge Griffin since Prochnow isn’t exactly the most compelling presence in the movie (his performance is strangely exaggerated at times) and the script could’ve been rewritten to accommodate these alterations. I don’t know if that would’ve necessarily made the movie better but it would’ve at least stayed true to the spirit of the character and perhaps spared us the visual of the citizens cheering Dredd on in the finale like he’s a conquering hero, something his comic book counterpart would probably have deemed a public nuisance.

Dredd destroys his clones, dispatches Rico, and returns to duty as a street Judge.

Still, it’s hard to deny the gravitas that Asante brings to Rico and how captivating his performance is; Stallone definitely can act and has always stood out from his action hero peers as being more than a slab of meat, but he’s a little in over his head here and largely bolstered by his supporting cast as he focuses entirely on tweaking Dredd’s persona from an uncompromising man of the law to a more empathetic individual. Dredd undergoes a great deal of emotional turmoil in the film, from being betrayed and convicted by the system to discovering that he’s a clone of Fargo and that Rico is his genetic brother. The trial is particularly hard on Dredd, who knows he’s innocent but is convicted because of irrefutable genetic evidence, forcing him to see the flaws in the system, but he’s absolutely devastated when Fargo dies before his eyes after revealing the truth to him. After finally opening up to Hershey, Dredd gears up to confront his brother in the remains of the Statue of Liberty, where Project: Janus is situated. In this elaborate laboratory, Rico has spawned a new crop of clones using his own genetic material and, after Dredd refuses to join him in his campaign, Rico orders that the clones are hatched before they’re fully gestated, briefly forced Dredd to contend with the gruesome copies that are little more than monstrous drones. Although injured (by a shot that really should’ve been fatal…), Fergie is able to disable to ABC Warrior and Hershey fends off Dr. Hayden as the laboratory explodes around them, leaving Dredd and Rico to face off in a brutal fist fight in Lady Liberty’s head after just… ignoring the clones, which are basically just there for a jump scare. Despite clearly being Rico’s physical superior, Dredd ends up dangling precariously over a fatal drop after they exchange blows; luckily for Dredd, Rico can’t pass up the chance for one final monologue in which he chastises his brother’s lack of loyalty and vision, given Dredd the opportunity he needs to distract Rico with a flare, deliver one last one-liner, and sent him plummeting to his death. In the wake of Rico’s death, the truth about Griffin’s actions is broadcast, exonerating Dredd and leaving him in prime position to ascend to the role of Chief Justice. Surprisingly, the movie adheres to the spirit of the comics by having Dredd decline and recommit himself to his daily duties, and then deviates from it wildly by having him exhibit only confusion and intrigue rather than insult when Hershey plants a kiss on his lips.

The Summary:
So, yeah… I’m a little torn. If anyone knows the complexities of adaptation, it’s me, and I totally get that some things need to change to bring a concept to life. generally, I go into an adaptation looking to see how it stands by itself, what it does differently, and how it works in its new medium and genre and judge it according to those standards. By that measure, Judge Dredd is a pretty by-the-numbers sci-fi action/comedy; it’s colourful and visually stunning, with some decent action set pieces and humour (when Rob Schneider isn’t trying too hard) that has a certain appeal, especially for younger viewers. If you’ve seen Demolition Man, which came out only a couple of years before this, and Blade Runner, this is very much a mash up of those two, with a sprinkling of RoboCop in there; it’s not exactly ground-breaking, but the practical effects and visual presentation go a long way to making it an entertaining flick. Stallone does a decent job here; honestly, he was a great choice to play Judge Dredd and (literally) fills the boots well, carrying himself with a grim, stoic demeanour that perfectly contrasts with his stellar supporting cast. Unfortunately… it’s just not really Judge Dredd for me. it captures some of the essence of the source material, but not enough to truly do it justice. I can understand toning down the violence and changing some aspects, but removing the helmet was a big no-no. Obviously, it would’ve been a very different movie if Stallone had kept it on (and again, I don’t know if it’d really be “better”), but the key thing here is that Dredd’s character is changed to make him a more heroic figure, when that’s really missing the point of what Dredd’s all about. Ultimately, I think the filmmakers just played things too safe; this wasn’t a time when comic book movies were known for taking risks and that really shows here, resulting in a fun action romp but one that is more like a taster introduction to Dredd’s world rather than truly being representative of it, which is a shame.

My Rating:

Rating: 2 out of 5.

Could Be Better

What did you think to Judge Dredd’s live-action debut? Were you annoyed that he removed his helmet or do you think it made sense considering who was in the role? What did you like to Stallone’s performance and this interpretation of Dredd? Were you impressed by the film’s visuals, costume design, and special effects? What did you think to the plot regarding Dredd’s framing and his clash against Rico? Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments or on my social media and be sure to check out my other Judge Dredd content.

Movie Night: Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom

Dr. K1 Comment

Released: 17 March 2023
Director: James Wan
Distributor: Warner Brothers
Budget: $205 million
Stars: Jason Momoa, Patrick Wilson, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, Randall Park, Temuera Morrison, and Amber Heard

The Plot:
Desperate to find the means to avenge himself against Arthur Curry/Aquaman (Momoa), pirate David Kane/Black Manta (Abdul-Mateen II) stumbles upon the mythical Black Trident, which possesses him and compels him to unleash an ancient threat so powerful Aruthur is forced to join forces with his deposed brother, Orm Marius (Wilson).

The Background:
Back in 1941, Mort Weisinger and Paul Norris created the character of Arthur Curry as part of DC Comics’ (then known as National Comics) desire to capitalise on the success of Clark Kent/Superman and Bruce Wayne/Batman. Although subject to unfair ridicule over the years, Aquaman ultimately had the last laugh when, after years of Development Hell and aborted projects, his live-action debut was met with critical and financial success. Following a short-lived animated spin-off on HBO Max, a planned horror-themed spin-off was thankfully cancelled and a sequel was quickly greenlit; both Momoa and director James Wan were enthusiastic to explore other kingdoms and regions of Atlantis and the vast underwater realm, though the film attracted unwanted media attention when star Amber Heard was accused of abusing her husband, Johnny Depp. Many called for her to be recast and, while Warner Brothers initially shot this request down, it was reported that her role had been significantly reduced as a result of the circus of a trial that followed. The production also stalled due to the COVID-19 pandemic, which changed the release date numerous times but did give the visual effects team more time to work on the film. This apparently also involved excising cameo appearance from one or more Bruce Wayne/Batman actors as James Gunn geared up towards completely restarting the DCEU, with Gunn apparently providing some notes to the filmmakers. After much drama and delays, Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom finally released to largely negative reviews; critics attacked the brainless plot and clunky pacing, though Wan’s direction and Momoa’s enthusiastic performance were praised. As of this writing, the film has currently grossed $340.6 million at the box office but it’s largely academic; Momoa isn’t expected to reprise the role in Gunn’s new DC Universe and no new Aquaman projects have been announced yet, leaving the character essentially dead in the water no matter how much money the sequel makes,

The Review:
I was pleasantly surprised by Aquaman; it was big, colourful, mindless fun in an era when the DCEU was unnecessarily dark and bleak, and it altered Aquaman’s characterisation in a way that made him so much more entertaining and relatable. Jason Momoa attacks the role with such relish and natural charisma that it’s easy to overlook flaws in logic or pacing, and that same charm returns in this sequel. Of course, it helps that he’s disgustingly good looking and absolutely shredded, but Momoa’s Aquaman has the kind of Dude/Bro mentality and whimsical childishness that really brings a smile to my face. In this film, a lot has changed for the slovenly brute who once shunned humanity and responsibility; he’s now the King of Atlantis, doting father to Arthur Junior (Various), and loving husband to Y’Mera Xebella Challa (Heard). First, let’s address the elephant in the room: yes, Mera is in this movie but no, she does not have much of a role. In fact, given all the controversy surrounding Amber Heard, I was expecting Mera to be killed off and it does seem like that almost happened; instead, she’s merely severely wounded by Black Manta and taken out of the second act of the movie, only to make a minor reappearance at the end to help Arthur and Orm and get the baby to safety. I can fully understand this, and it’s not like her presence is really missed; she still impresses in her skin-tight outfit and gets to show off her hydrokinetic powers, but the plot doesn’t require her presence and it’s better she was given less prominence considering everything that happened. Interestingly, much of her character development from the first film is repeated with Orm; he’s prejudiced against the surface world like Mera was, confused by their words and ways, and slowly comes to enjoy some of our customs by the movie’s end, though these lessons are reframed in the context of Arthur encouraging a stronger bond between them and him pulling pranks on his relatively naïve younger brother by tricking him into thinking cockroaches are a delicacy!

Now a father dissatisfied with the crown, Arthur teams up with his brother to face a powerful threat.

So, there’s not much focus on the romance here; even Arthur’s father, lighthouse keeper Tom (Morrison) and Queen Atlanna (Nicole Kidman) don’t share a scene together until the start of the third act, and Arthur’s initial conversations with his father even somewhat imply that Atlanna is dead. She’s not, but her role here is equally minimal and simply the catalyst to unite her two estranged sons into joining forces. Instead, we’re left with Arthur, but that’s more than enough! Despite his big victory in the first film, Arthur is bored by the crown, his duties, and the endless politics of the Atlantean council, which handicap him with bureaucracy. A child of both worlds, he spends as much time out of the sea as he does in it to care for his son, something with many of his kingdom resent, and his desire to reveal Atlantis to the surface world and work with them to reduce pollution and climate change are continuously shot down. Frustrated by self-doubt about his role as a leader, Arthur is almost giddy when David Kane returns armed with a powerful trident of his own and wielding forgotten Atlantean technology. Kane’s plot to steal Atlantis’s highly volatile stockpiles of Orichalcum and exacerbate the heating of the world (which also causes a deadly plague to kill many Atlanteans, including Arthur’s mentor, Nuidis Vulko (Willem Dafoe), between movies) causes Arthur great distress. With no way of tracking Black Manta, Arthur enlists the help of King Nereus (Dolph Lundgren) and Topo the octopus to sneak into the desert prion where Orm is held captive and enlist his help since he’s the only one who may be able to lead them to Kane. Arthur jumps at the chance for some action, even if it risks all-out war breaking out, as he’s desperate to get into the thick of it again, to say nothing of trying to connect with his brother and settle the score with his old rival.

Orm is disgusted by his brother’s childishness but proves surprisingly trustworthy.

This dysfunctional dynamic is where the heart of Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom lies, and where much of its entertainment value comes from. Emaciated from his time in prison and embittered by his brutish brother’s lack of decorum when it comes to the throne, Orm is depicted as a conniving, untrustworthy bigot who lusts for power. Yet he agrees to help Arthur, and even stats he will willingly return to custody afterwards, out of loyalty to Atlantis, and never misses an opportunity to chastise his brother’s buffoonery and overreliance on his muscles. Orm emits a more stately persona, attempting to use diplomacy rather than brute force; he’s able to lead them to an underwater den of debauchery and an aquatic crime boss, the appropriately named Kingfish (Martin Short), to get information on Black Manta’s location and even drops condescending advice to Arthur about what it means to be a king. The banter and bickering between Arthur and Orm is great; Orm is visibly disgusted by his older brother, and the humiliation he felt at his hands, while Arthur tries to win him over with his boisterous personality and surface world benefits such as beer and cheeseburgers. Although King Nereus cautions about trusting Orm, the former Ocean Master proves surprisingly reliable; he never runs from a fight, doesn’t attempt to kill or sell out Arthur, and doesn’t even show envy at learned Arthur married Mera. Although it seems like Orm is happy to leave King Nereus to die, he saves the king and earns his respect in the process, and even readily joins Arthur in battling Black Manta when he could easily slip away and let them kill each other. Orm proves equally invaluable in delivering exposition about the Black Trident and the titular lost kingdom of Necrus, though the two brothers are briefly set against each other in the finale when Orm claims the Black Trident and briefly falls under its malicious sway.

Possessed and empowered by the Black Trident, Black Manta’s threat is significantly increased,

Established in the first film as a vengeful, sadistic mercenary, David Kane has become obsessed with discovering the secrets of Atlantis so he can repair his Black Manta suit and avenge himself on Aquaman. Kane’s fascination with Atlantis is shared by his reluctant scientific advisor, Doctor Stephen Shin (Park), who’s longing to see Atlantis is manipulated by Kane into helping him figure out Necrus’s ancient weapons. Once he finds the Black Trident, Kane is bombarded with visions, promises of power, and a superhuman lust to free the imprisoned King Kordax (Pilou Asbæk), who’s dark magic slowly infests Black Manta and drives him to the brink of insanity. Even Orm is stunned to learn of Black Manta’s newfound viciousness, which sees him threaten the entire world with climate instability simply for the sake of it rather than for any kind of ransom, and Kordax’s influence means Black Manta can now go toe-to-toe with both Aquaman and Orm without his power suit. However, he still utilises his technology, blasting his enemies with beams of intense energy and combines both science and magic (and a massive disrupter cannon on a repurposed Necrus ship) to showcase his new might. Black Manta’s need to awaken King Kordax and his list for revenge are so powerful that he targets Arthur’s family, critically wounding Mera and Tom and even kidnapping his son with the intention of using his blood to destroy the magic seal imprisoning the undead king. As for King Kordax, he’s more of an ethereal spirit, a ghastly skeletal wraith who whispers in Kane’s ear, possesses any who touch the Black Trident, and formally commanded a legion of undead warriors in battle against his brother, King Atlan (Vincent Regan). Desperate to return to unlife once more, he feeds the ego of whoever wields the Black Trident, compelling them to spill the blood of Atlan’s bloodline so that he and his army can ransack the entire globe!

The Nitty-Gritty:
Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom charts the natural next chapter in Arthur’s story; this loveable manchild feels increasing pressure on all sides to grow up and be more responsible as a husband, father, and leader, roles that he attacks with his usual juvenile vigour but which he finds himself questioning at times. Though devoted to his family, he finds the politics of the crown tedious and expresses dissatisfaction with the role, which he only fulfils out of obligation to his mother and his people. There’s no question that he’s a good father (indeed, Tom encourages Arthur to have more children!) or that he wants what’s best for Atlantis, but he desires a worldwide unity that the council aren’t willing to risk and struggles to balance both sides of his life. These issues are explored through his tumultuous relationship with Orm; both were denied a childhood together and are wary, if not frustrated, by each other, with only their love for Atlanna and Atlantis keeping their fragile alliance alive throughout most of the film. They’re two halves of the same coin, though, and both learn a lot from the other; Arthur learns more about what it takes to be a king and Orm learns to not be such a dick and enjoy other cultures. However, while they’re one of the best parts of the film, I would’ve liked to see a little more of this; perhaps a scene or two where Orm does abandon Arthur, or one where Arthur’s knowledge of the surface world helps Orm, or seeing Orm’s stoic disdain crack upon learning that he’s an uncle. The galvanising love show to them both by Atlan helps fill these gaps, as does the presence of King Nereus and the Brine King (John Rhys-Davies), who have their own issues with Orm, but it does feel like some scenes were left on the cutting room floor to keep the pace up.

The visuals and costumes continue to impress, and the fight are more personal this time.

Not that that’s a bad thing; Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom has a very brisk pace that doesn’t waste too much time, but it’s also learned to not interrupt every character moment with a dramatic explosion (there’s even a tongue-in-cheek reference to that at one point. The underwater realms are as captivating as ever, being a neon-drenched wonderland of strange, almost monstrous undersea races and futuristic technology alongside rusted apparatus and long forgotten ancient ruins. Aquaman’s ridiculously good orange/gold armour returns, looking better than ever, and he even gets a sleek, form-fitting black/blue suit and makes him invisible for a few moments at a time, perfect for sneaking into the arid desert prion and battling the dried-out, horrifying guards who dwell there. Although Orm is shafted in the costume department this time around, Mera still catches the eye in her tight little number and Black Manta steals every scene in his ludicrous saucer-like helmet. The fight sequences are much more intense this time, too; moving away from full-scale undersea battles to focus on gritty melee combat, the fights between Aquaman and Black Manta are great now that Kane has received a power boost and is a significant threat able to hideously burn even Atlantean flesh. There are a fair few visually interesting locations on offer as well, from the throne room and market square of Atlantis to the scorching desert and the overgrown, hazardous forest on Black Manta’s island (complete with volcano lair) thanks to the presence of polluting Orichalcum. A fair bit of the film involves ice and frozen locations, too, with Necrus and his army encased in an icy tomb, but overall I found the CGI and action sequences to be really well done; perhaps a bit less bombastic at times, but the focus on crafting meaningful fight scenes benefitted the plot greatly, I feel.

Arthur and Orm come together to defeat Black Manta and repair their relationship.

Despite working surprisingly well as a team, Arthur and Orm are unable to defeat Black Manta; they disrupt his operation, with the help of the remorseful Dr. Shin, but find Kane is willing to sacrifice Arthur Junior to set King Kordax free, leading to a more concentrated assault against Black Manta and the quickly rising undead army of the entrapped king. Determined to save his son, Aquaman battles Black Manta once more, only to find Kane has been fully overtaken by the malicious Kordax. Luckily, Mera and Orm are both on hand to get the baby to safety, but Orm falls under Kordax’s spell when saving Mera and his nephew from certain death. Although it seems like the two brothers are about to fight once more, Arthur tries a different approach, one influenced by his time with Orm and his desire to build bridges between them. Instead of fighting, Arthur also grabs the Black Trident and tries to reason with his brother, with both struggling against Kordax’s influence, and successfully talks Orm down. Orm then provides Arthur with the means to destroy the awakened undead king and finally acknowledges him as his brother in the aftermath, where all involved agree to say that Orm perished in the battle as thanks for his help. With Orm out exploring the surface world for the first time, Arthur makes the decision to finally reveal Atlantis to humanity, directly addressing the United Nations and calling for a global effort in reversing the damage done to the environment and thus ending the DCEU on a surprisingly hopeful message. Sure, the climate change aspects of the film are a little ham-fisted, but I think they’re to be expected in an Aquaman story, especially as suspicion of humankind is such a prominent aspect of the mistreated Atlanteans.

The Summary:
I was excited for an Aquaman sequel; I’ve loved Jason Momoa in the role right from the start and really enjoyed the first film, so it bugged me that Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom was delayed and pushed back and mired in controversy and said to be awful. It really isn’t, to be fair; it’s not as good as the first (though repeated viewings may change that opinion) but it’s not an incomprehensible mess, an ugly noise of awful CGI, or a lacklustre bore-fest either. It’s a fun, thrilling, and surprisingly intense adventure; Black Manta’s vendetta against Aquaman is deeply personal, as are the issues between Arthur and Orm, and the performances of those three actors really sell that. Kane is a cold-blooded, merciless pirate who blood on his mind; Orm is a bitter and resentful fallen king; and Arthur is just trying to do the right thing but struggling with his suitability to the throne. While the actors all do a fantastic job of embodying their roles, the visual effects are absolutely top-notch; I love seeing these characters come to life, Atlantis is a gorgeous undersea society, and the various dishevelled ruins and repurposed technology really give a sense of scale and time to this world. The bickering between Arthur and Orm more than makes up for Mera’s dramatically reduced role and makes this more of a dysfunctional buddy comedy at times, but the more personal and fierce fight sequences are just as appealing to me. It’s shame that the DCEU died out so quickly; I don’t relish having to restart Aquaman’s story and find a new actor for the role, but at least we have these two movies to show us what the character is capable of in the right hands. Ultimately, Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom may not be the best DCEU or superhero movie you’ll ever see, but I think it’s definitely high in the ranks and worth your time for the lead actor alone, but there’s plenty to enjoy beyond that if you’re simply looking for a fun and surprisingly intense action film.

My Rating:

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Great Stuff

Did you enjoy Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom? How do you think it compares against the first film and other DCEU movies? Did you enjoy Jason Momoa’s performance and Arthur’s relationship with Orm? Were you glad that Arthur Junior was spared the fate of his comic book counterpart? What did you think to Black Manta and his newfound power boost? Were you annoyed by the climate change plot, or did you find it suitable for the film? Who would you like to see portray Aquaman in James Gunn’s new DC Universe? Whatever your thoughts on Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom, and Aquaman in general, drop a comment below or on my social media.

Movie Night [Christmas Day]: Die Hard

Dr. K5 Comments

Released: 15 July 1988
Director: John McTiernan
Distributor: 20th Century Fox
Budget: $25 to 35 million
Stars: Bruce Willis, Alan Rickman, Bonnie Bedelia, Reginald VelJohnson, Paul Gleason, and William Atherton

The Plot:
New York City police detective John McClane (Willis) arrives at the Nakatomi Plaza in Los Angeles to reconcile with his estranged wife, Holly Gennero-McClane (Bedelia). Things quickly turn south when Hans Gruber (Rickman) and his gang of terrorists take the building hostage, leaving McClane to wage a one-man war.

The Background
In 1979, writer Roderick Thorp published a sequel to his 1966 thriller, The Detective; inspired by The Towering Inferno (Guillermin, 1974), Nothing Lasts Forever was well-received and soon shopped around Hollywood, with Thorp hoping Frank Sinatra would reprise his role from the adaptation of The Detective (Douglas, 1968). Instead, the concept ended up in the hands of struggling screenwriter Jeb Stuart, who was given free reign as long as he retained the Christmas-in-Los-Angeles setting. Drawing from personal experiences with married life, Stuart reimagined Thorp’s aging detective, Joe Leland, into a flawed everyman, though remained largely faithful to the spirit of the source material. After Sinatra turned down the lead role, the project was offered to some of Hollywood’s biggest action stars, including Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone, before Bruce Willis (then known more for his comedic efforts) was cast as the wisecracking John McClane and subsequently redefined not only his career, but the portrayal of action heroes in general. Die Hard was the silver screen debut for the late, great Alan Rickman, who was won over by the wit and intelligence of the script and even had some creative input on his character thanks to his theatre background. Screenwriter Steven E. de Souza came onboard for a rewrite, which framed the narrative as though Hans Gruber were the protagonist, though director John McTiernan allowed Willis and the other actors room to improvise during the shoot, which was based almost entirely in and around the Fox Plaza in Central City. Willis performed many of his own stunts, suffering partial hearing loss as a result; the stunts were dangerous and complex for cast and crew alike, though McTiernan couldn’t resist dropping Rickman early to produce a genuine look of fear for Gruber’s fall. In defiance of low expectations, Die Hard was a massive financial success, making around $140 million at the box office, revitalising both 20th Century Fox and the action genre. Although initial reviews were mixed, praising the direction and stunts but questioning Willis’s performance, the film was seen as a breakout role for the actor, one that redefined the action hero stereotype into a more vulnerable and snarky tough guy. After proving to be equally popular on home video, this success naturally translated into a sequel two years later, a venture that proved even more profitable and led to an entire franchise of additional sequels, videogames, and ancillary media of varying quality that nonetheless cemented Willis’s status as a smart-mouthed action hero.

The Review:
Believe it or not, but there was a time when I wasn’t much of a Die Hard fan. Despite growing up on action movies, specifically those starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, kid me always found Die Hard to be a little too slow and “grown up” compared to the Austrian Oak’s films. Eventually, however, I grew up a bit and did a binge watch of the then-trilogy of Die Hard films and realised what I’d been missing out on. Specifically, Bruce Willis establishing himself as a mainstream action icon with these films, in particular this first Die Hard movie, which is still the undeniable best of a surprisingly strong action franchise. McClane separates himself from his action movie counterparts by being the quintessential “Everyman”; he’s physically fit, yes, but not some musclebound brute and he’s far from invincible, gradually becoming more injured and fatigued as the movie goes on. He’s easy to relate to because he’s a very flawed character; his marriage is on the rocks, he’s seen as insubordinate and a liability by his peers, he makes mistakes, and he’s forced to adapt, always one wrong move away from certain death. This is in stark contrast to the likes of Schwarzenegger and Stallone; while they have certainly portrayed more grounded, vulnerable, and human characters, they’re best known for being virtually unstoppable and overcoming the odds through sheer brute force, whereas McClane has to use his wits, cunning, and sheer force of will to triumph.

Smart-mouthed John McClane is the only man tenacious enough to rescue the terrified hostages.

John McClane is portrayed very much as a fish out of water since he is both a New York City cop in the unfamiliar surroundings of Los Angeles and a rugged working man amidst a skyscraper full of well-heeled business types. Although rough around the edges, he’s treated warmly and with respect by Joseph Takagi (James Shigeta) and invited to join the Nakatomi Christmas party, but he’s focused solely on reconnecting with Holly, who has managed to build a successful career for herself without McClane, much to his chagrin. While he’s clearly still in love with her and wants to build bridges, if only for the sake of their young children, McClane is handicapped by a natural immaturity that causes only further arguments rather than him simply admitting to his mistakes. A career cop, McClane is always taking in his surroundings and has a suspicious nature that allows him to separate bullshitters like Harry Ellis (Hart Bochner) from the honest, like Argyle (De’voreaux White), his overly chatting limo driver. This talent goes hand in hand with his adaptability and stubborn nature, from which the film takes its title; though outnumbered and outgunned and definitely in way over his head, McClane keeps his wits about him and is always trying to find some way to get help or pick off his assailants and is intuitive enough to assess the threat posed by the terrorists based on their accents, firearms, and tactics. Basically caught with his pants down, McClane finds himself the only one capable of raising the alarm when Hans Gruber and his goons take over the tower, executing Takagi and taking his employees hostage while they work on breaking into the vault. Outnumbered, outgunned, and without even his shoes, McClane’s first instinct is to call for help, only to be repeatedly met with scepticism, endangering himself and forcing him to flee or fight, with tenacity in equal measure. Though armed only with his service pistol, McClane soon acquires a machine gun (“Ho-ho-ho”), but it’s not enough to tackle Gruber head-on. Instead, McClane fights with a brutal and rabid animal spirit; often physically outmatched by his foes, he takes quite a beating in every encounter and only emerges victorious due to his stubborn nature or taking risks that further damage his body, slicing his feet on glass shards, tumbling down stairs, getting shot, crawling through ventilation ducts, and defying physics and death alike with a desperate leap from the rooftop with only a firehose as a lifeline!

McClane’s only ally and supporter in rescuing his equally spirited estranged wife is Powell.

If anyone knows about McClane’s stubborn nature, it’s his wife, Holly. A driven and determined career woman, Holly moved to Los Angeles with their kids to make a go out of it in the corporate world and, despite McClane’s doubts (and hopes), actually succeeded in her new role. Though warm, kind, and friendly, Holly is sick of McClane’s thick-headed ways and bullish nature; she has no problem calling him out or standing up to him and just wants to be treated with some respect. Although he knows what he needs to do to repair their relationship, McClane struggles to express himself and often falls back on accusations and jealousy, widening the gap between them. When she’s taken hostage, Holly remains calm and composed but brings the same fiery energy when she’s forced to speak up for her fellow colleagues in place of Takagi; even Gruber comments on her dependable and forthright nature, which helps her act as a mediator between the groups in a far more effective way than her coked-up colleague, Ellis. When she learns that McClane is at large in the building and causing Gruber trouble, Holly begins to hope; despite their differences, she knows that McClane will fight to the bitter end to get the job done, but even she is shocked by the state he’s in by the end. While Los Angeles’ finest are often more of a hinderance than help to the fatigued and aggravated McClane, his most vocal supporter outside of the tower is Sergeant Al Powell (VelJohnson), a Twinkie-loving father to be who’s struggling with guilt after accidentally shooting a kid. Alerted to gunfire and a disturbance at Nakatomi Plaza, Powell is horrified by what’s happening inside. Going with his gut, Powell becomes McClane’s primary contact, much to the ire of Deputy Chief Dwayne T. Robinson (Gleason). While Robinson believes McClane is as much of a problem as the terrorists, if not one of them, and prefers to go by the book and suck up to Agent Johnson and Johnson (Robert Davi and Grand L. Bush) of the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), Powell is much more “boots on the ground” and helps McClane stay sane and motivated and to stop and think about the big picture regarding the takeover.

McClane feels very unappreciated by the bureaucratic and arrogant pen-pushers on the outside.

Although he means well, Robinson is clearly not used to being in the field; he refuses to listen to McClane’s warnings and outright criticises his attempts to help and desperately tries to negotiate with Gruber, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s being played for a fool. When the LAPD’s Special Weapons and Tactics (SWAT) team try to storm the tower by force, he witnesses a taste of Gruber’s firepower when Gruber’s men shoot out their spotlights and destroy the armoured transport vehicle (APV) with a rocket launcher. Rather than thank McClane for his assistance, which sees him kill several of Gruber’s men with a hastily-constructed bomb, Robinson chastises him for damaging the building, but even his ineffectual nature pales in comparison to the arrogant and self-righteous FBI agents. Even Powell can see that the FBI are just like Robinson, working from a checklist and foolishly believing that they’re in charge of the situation without realising that they’re just expediating Gruber’s plan and causing unnecessary danger. Indeed, the agents are so arrogant that they personally accompany the helicopters to retrieve the hostages, relishing the chance to kick some ass and paying the ultimate price for it when they’re caught in an explosion, despite McClane’s best efforts to ward them off (which almost get him killed!) As if that wasn’t bad enough, snivelling reporter Richard Thornburg (Atherton) learns of the commotion and forces himself into the investigation, doing a deep dive on McClane and his family in order to advance his career. This directly impacts the finale when Gruber learns of Holly’s connection to McClane from Thornburg’s invasive and wholly inappropriate report, which see her kids and family plastered all over the media. This is enough to earn him her undying wrath and she gives him a good sock to the jaw after finally being rescued, proving that her drive to protect her family is just as strong as her husband’s.

Composed psychopath Hans and his goons are riled up by McClane’s cowboy vendetta.

So, to say McClane is against the odds is putting it mildly. With only a single security guard on duty, he has no backup inside the building against Gruber’s heavily armed and physically imposing forces. McClane immediately antagonises Gruber’s most brutish henchman, Karl Vreski (Alexander Godunov), after he kills Karl’s brother, Tony (Andreas Wisniewski), in a brutal scuffle. A cold-blooded and merciless killer, Karl swears revenge and his burning need to kill McClane sees him disregard Gruber’s orders, warn his allies not to rob him of his quarry, and ends with him hanging from a chain, seemingly dead because of his vendetta. Gruber’s other most notable ally is Theo (Clarence Gilyard), the group’s wisecracking and enthusiastic tech specialist who happily applies his skills to cracking Takgaki’s safe, seeing it as a personal challenge, and directs his allies in fending off the SWAT team, laughing with glee at how outmatched the LAPD are against their firepower and his intellect. And then there’s Hans himself, a smooth talking, eloquent, unnervingly polite terrorist who commands not just the respect and loyalty of his crew but the attention of every room and scene he’s in. While he’s a reasonable man, Gruber is as psychotic as his underlings when pushed; he thinks nothing of executing Takagi and Ellis and is fully prepared to kill everyone in the building to pull off his heist, despite agreeing to Holly’s terms to treat the hostages humanely. Although positioned and selling himself as a revolutionary terrorist fighting against oppression, he’s actually little more than a common thief as his goal is to steal $640 million in untraceable bearer bonds from Takagi’s vault and abscond to a faraway beach, free from persecution thanks to his elaborate and well-executed plan. While he’s largely the commanding voice of reason and directs his men to focus on the big picture, such as retrieving his C4 explosives rather than wasting time and energy hunting McClane, he didn’t factor a lone New York cop into his schemes and his demeanour noticeably becomes more frustrated the more his operation is scuppered by this smart-mouthed “cowboy”. Gruber even comes face to face with McClane at one point when looking for his detonators and gains a deeper understanding about his foe; though Gruber’s accent and charade are good, McClane shows he’s more than a meathead by seeing through the act, but Gruber matches him at every turn, ordering Karl to “shoot the glass” when he notices McClane’s bare feet and even taking Holly hostage to ensure their escape in the finale.

The Nitty-Gritty:
I’ve never understood the debate regarding Die Hard’s status as a Christmas movie. Every year, memes and posts and arguments rage about whether it “counts” as a Christmas movie when the evidence is pretty clear that it absolutely is a festive film. For starters, it takes place on Christmas Eve and at the Nakatomi Christmas party; that alone is enough to qualify in my book, but we’ve also got an abundance of Christmas decorations (including trees and presents), a hip Christmas song, and a Christmassy jingle laced into the film’s score. For me, all it takes is for a film to be set during the Christmas season for it to be considered a Christmas movie, making the entire debate redundant from my perspective; plus, it’s a great excuse to watch Die Hard while the turkey’s roasting. The Christmas setting is a great excuse to have Nakatomi Plaza be empty save for its partying employees; it also helps set up some great puns and aggrieved commentary from McClane, who regularly laments about how unfair the situation is. Thanks to a combination of fear, adrenaline, anxiety, and his own juvenile nature, McClane provides a running commentary throughout the film to himself, Powell, and his foes. It’s clear he does this to cope with the extreme danger of his situation, but it also showcases his investigative mind as he ponders the accents and gear of Gruber’s gang, chastises his own reckless behaviour and bad ideas at every opportunity, and assaults his enemies with colourful insults as much as bullets and body blows.

John McClane embodied a different type of action hero, a vulnerable, flawed, smart-ass everyman.

Whilst studying for my PhD thesis, I did a lot of background research into action cinema and, unsurprisingly, Die Hard came up quite a bit, especially regarding discussions of masculinity in Hollywood (and, specifically, this genre). For decades, action cinema and gender roles were defined by physicality; masculinity, especially, was embodied by hyper-masculine heroes like Schwarzenegger and Stallone, but this perception was challenged by the AIDS crisis and smaller, less troublesome statures and heroes became more prominent. Thus, not only did Stallone dramatically reconfigure his persona at this time, but McClane represented something very different to his peers; defined “through the voice, more wise-guy than tough-guy” (Tasker, 1993: 239), McClane was a “perpetual adolescent [who seemed] to be playing games”, cracking jokes and carrying “a sense of surprise and confusion that [the] explosive events are happening to him”. He thus personified the more relatable, rugged “Everyman” action hero; proactive individuals who faced danger not just with a fist or a gun but a smirk and a hefty amount of icy dialogue (ibid). However, McClane remains a figure of masculine power like his peers; Barry Grant (2007) noted that McClane survives multiple milestones throughout and ultimately triumphs, believing McClane’s heroics were linked to masculinity, patriarchy and their mythic representations since he conquers a clearly phallic structure, overcomes numerous male henchmen who challenge his masculinity, and ultimately defeats these villains to reclaim both his masculine potency and his wife. Indeed, Die Hard was noted by Steve Neale (2001) to be progressive in these gender codings as “fantasies of class- and gender-based resistance to the advent of a post-feminist/post-Fordist world [and] all the old lines of force and division between races, classes and genders are both transgressed and redrawn”. While you can read gender and political messages into almost any narrative, there’s some really interesting reading on the subject out there, especially in relation to Die Hard. I think what impresses me the most about this is how it allows the film, and this largely dismissed genre, to gain a bit more legitimacy in the eyes of academics; sure, it’s a bombastic action flick filled with blood squibs, wise cracks, and elaborate stunts but that doesn’t stop it from having intriguing academic appeal and opening discussions regarding gender roles.

Amidst the explosions and gunfights, Die Hard has a raw and brutal edge to its set pieces.

Indeed, while Die Hard is easily the most grounded and subdued of the franchise, which upped the ante to almost ridiculous (but no less entertaining) degrees, it still has some impressive set pieces, especially for a film set largely in one location. There’s the aforementioned APV assault, which sees the foyer rocked by explosions and ends with an impressive (if slightly dodgy) composite shot of McClane chucking C4 down an elevator shaft. And before this we have fun stuff like McClane blasting Marco (Lorenzo Caccialanza) through a table and then tossing him out a window, where he crashes onto Powell’s car and finally gets the LAPD out in full force. McClane’s fist fights with Tony and Karl are very brutal affairs; McClane takes quite a beating in each case and survives only by the skin of his teeth and is left sweaty and bloodied as a result. The damage he accumulates racks up to the point where he starts to consider that the odds aren’t looking too good in his favour; as he gingerly pulls glass shards from his feet, he tries to confide in Powell, who remains the steadfast voice of encouragement and hope. Things continue to escalate when Theo finally cracks the vault and Gruber enacts his final deception; he agrees to let the hostages go in exchange for safe passage on a helicopter, knowing full well that the FBI will double-cross him and rigging the rooftop landing pad to blow. Thanks to McClane, the hostages get to safety but Johnson and Johnson aren’t so lucky as their chopper is engulfed by the explosion. McClane, however, proves as resourceful as ever, leaping from the roof with a firehose as a makeshift safety line and smashing his way back into the building, narrowly avoiding a fatal fall in the process. Indeed, the film’s title is certainly apt as McClane continually avoids death even when he should probably have died several times over, though this takes a visual toll on his body and his mind as the film progresses, with him becoming noticeably bloodier and more desperate as things escalate.

An injured and exhausted McClane ultimately topples Gruber and reunites with his wife.

Thankfully, Powell in on hand to keep him together; their many radio exchanges see Powell shamefully admit to his mistake, which saw him transfer to a desk job and holster his revolver, an emotional arc that reaches a crescendo in the film’s final moments when Powell is forced to shoot Karl dead when he suddenly springs to life, thus allowing Powell to regain his confidence (and, if you want to read it that way, his own sense of masculinity; guns are a very phallic object, after all). After spending the whole movie pretending to be this cultured, intellectual terrorist revolutionary, Holly is disgusted and stunned to learn that Gruber’s simply in it for the money. Although many of his men have been killed by McClane, Gruber finally gets into Takagi’s safe and prepares to make his getaway, taking Holly as his hostage for collateral. However, McClane stumbles out from the embers, exhausted and bloody, to confront Gruber once more; as ever, though, he’s outnumbered and outgunned and dare not make a move since Gruber has Holly at gunpoint. With no other choice, McClane drops his gun and surrenders to Gruber, who prepares to shoot him and mockingly repeats a taunt McClane had flippantly thrown his way earlier, “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfuker”, causing them both to break out in laughter. This is all the distraction McClane needs to enact his final, desperate gambit; with his hands behind his head in a submissive gesture, he retrieves a pistol he taped to his back, guns down Eddie (Dennis Haden), and incapacitates Gruber with a shot, despite taking another bullet in the process. This sees the mortally wounded Gruber topple out the window, but he proves as persistent as his nemesis; caught up on Holly’s wristwatch (a gift from Takagi for her hard work), he prepares to shoot McClane only to be sent suddenly plunging to his death when McClane rips the watch from his wife’s wrist, symbolically shedding Holly from her career and returning her into the arms of her grateful and remorseful husband, their relationship having been galvanised by the whole traumatic ordeal.

The Summary:
Christmas is a great time of year. The food, the atmosphere, the presents…and the movies! Every year, I get to re-watch some of my favourite Christmas-themed films and Die Hard absolutely makes that list. Yes, you can (and should) watch it any time of the year but why not at Christmas, when the movie is set? Honestly, this is one of the all-time greats of the genre; more of an action/thriller, the film is a hugely entertaining depiction of one tenacious man’s fight against overwhelming odds and, while it can sometimes feel a little lengthy, it’s very fun and always enjoyable to watch every time. John McClane is a very different type of action hero; he’s vulnerable and flawed and has a smart mouth and a never-say-die attitude. He’s the perfect monkey wrench in Hans Gruber’s meticulous plot to get rich quick and the dichotomy between the two is half the fun of the movie. Even though they share very little screen time together, you can see them both growing more desperate and riled up and eager to take the other out as the film progresses, and this rising tension is both palpable and reflected in the escalating violence and destruction. I loved McClane’s snarky attitude, his quips and one-liners, and the humanising relationship between him and Al Powell, which really helps you remember that these action heroes are just normal people, deep down beneath the machismo. Another thing I love is how raw Die Hard is; it’s grounded and dirty and gritty and it really makes you feel it every time McClane takes a shot or a beating or a fall. Although it’s easy to just turn your brain off and enjoy a good time, I do like how the film invites deeper readings and academic discussion with its depiction of gender, masculinity, and violence. For me, Die Hard has endured the test of time; it reinvigorated the action genre and created one of the best protagonists of action cinema and it’s one of those films I both genuinely look forward to watching time and time again and which just gets better the more you watch it.

My Rating:

Rating: 5 out of 5.

Fantastic

Are you a fan of Die Hard? Did you like how it reinvigorated the action genre with a snarky everyman hero or are you a fan of the more over-the-top protagonists? What did you think to Hans Gruber’s plan, his portrayal, and his crew? Did you enjoy McClane’s tenacity and snarky attitude? What did you think to the set pieces? Do you consider Die Hard to be a Christmas movie? What are your plans for Christmas Day today? Whatever your thoughts, feel free to comment down before and have a great Christmas!

Movie Night [Doomsday]: Snowpiercer

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Over the years, there have been many theories about when the world will end but one of the more prevalent was the mistaken belief that doomsday would befall us on December 21st 2012 based on the Mayan calendar ending on this day. Of course, not only did this not happen but it wasn’t even based on any actual fact to begin with. Still, doomsday scenarios and depictions of the end of the world have been an enduring genre in fiction so I figure today was a good day to dedicate some time to this popular concept.

Released: 29 July 2013
Director: Bong Joon-ho
Distributor: CJ Entertainment/Lionsgate
Budget: $40 million
Stars: Chris Evans, Song Kang-ho, Jamie Bell, Tilda Swinton, John Hurt, and Ed Harris

The Plot:
After an attempt to reverse global warming causes an ice age to render the Earth uninhabitable, the remnants of humanity are crammed into a circumnavigational train, the Snowpiercer, where the elite thrive in the extravagant front cars and the poor struggle in squalid tail-end compartments. With tensions rising, Curtis Everett (Evans) prepares to lead an uprising against the train’s domineering authority, represented by Minister Mason (Swinton).

The Background:
Snowpiercer began life as a French language graphic novel, Le Transperceneige (Lob, et al, 1982); after discovering a copy in a South Korean comic book shop in 2005, director Bong Koon-ho was immediately fascinated by the story’s depiction of social classes desperately vying for survival in a claustrophobic, post-apocalyptic scenario. Despite his fascination with the graphic novel, and having secured the rights to a live-action adaptation thanks to his friendship with fellow director Park Chan-wook, development of the film took a great deal of time to get off the ground. Star Chris Evans came on board (no pun intended) in 2012; although he brought with him a mainstream star power thanks to his prominence in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Bong had to employ some clever filmmaking techniques to hide the actor’s muscular physique during filming. Featuring some complex practical and computer effects to render the titular train’s numerous cars and the desolate frozen wasteland of the outside world, Snowpiercer had the largest film budget of all time for any film with Korean investors but its theatrical release was limited to South Korea at the time. Still, while Snowpiercer’s box office may not have been the most spectacular, the film received largely positive reviews, was widely regarded as one of the best films of 2014, and eventually led to a television adaptation in 2020.

The Review:
Snowpiercer presents a unique spin on the concept of a global disaster movie; while we’ve seen ice ages and frozen Earth films before, I’m hard pressed to think of one where we were directly, unequivocally responsible for the planet becoming a block of ice and snow much less one where the few remnants of humanity were crammed inside a world-spanning, perpetual motion train.

The tail section lives in abject poverty and is routinely abused by the upper classes.

Immediately, the film’s depiction of class and social segregation is made explicitly clear; Curtis, his young friend Edgar (Bell), and his fellow lower classes are forced to live in abject poverty and extremely cramped, disgusting conditions like homeless vagrants. Muddy, dishevelled, and little more than meek, subservient cattle, the lower ends are fed nauseating protein blocks and held at the mercy of the upper classes and the train’s armed guards, who do not hesitate to beat them mercilessly or tear children away from their mothers. Curtis, a principal figurehead amidst the dregs of the train, is very much a reluctant leader and uncomfortable with his position after a traumatic experience in the past. Indebted to Gilliam (Hurt), the aged, half-crippled true leader of the resistance movement, Curtis begrudgingly uses his powers of observation and force of will to help co-operate with prisoner Namgoong “Nam” Minsoo (Kang-ho) in a desperate attempt to storm the train’s length to seize control of the engine (and, thus, the “world”), and kill its operator, Wilford (Harris).

Much to Curtis’s chagrin, Edgar worships and looks up to him as a leader and a brother.

Much to Curtis’s chagrin, Edgar worships him as a hero and leader and sees him as something of an older brother; optimistic and full of fight, Edgar is willing to follow Curtis into the fray, which greatly disturbs Curtis as he believes that Edgar is willing to die for nothing. Their relationship is one based on both necessity and a lifetime of lies as Curtis carries tremendous guilt after he nearly killed and ate Edgar when he was just a baby. Such abject mania and cannibalism was rife in the early days of the train and many of the back-end’s inhabitants, such as Gilliam, are missing limbs after being willingly (or forced) to offer sustenance to their fellow passengers.

Snowpiercer features a diverse cast, making communication another source of contention.

Snowpiercer features an extremely diverse cast, with many of the supporting characters being South Korean actors; the most prominent of which is Curtis’s contact, Nam, and his seventeen-year-old daughter, Yona (Ko Asung). Both are addicted to a coal-like waste by-product, Kronole, which offers abusers a hallucinogenic high, yet Nam is instrumental to their efforts since he designed all the doors and locks on the train and his daughter exhibits some degree of clairvoyance. Since Namgoong mainly communicates in Korean, Curtis and the others are forced to communicate with him through the use of an unreliable mechanical translation device, though there are many instances of subtitles as well.

Mason is an abominable, despicable coward who’s only looking after her own self interests.

The upper classes are condescending, well-kept, and ruthless individuals who regularly lord their position and power over the lower classes; none embody Wilford’s order or the will of the upper class more than the detestable Minister Mason. A comical figure in many ways, sporting a pompous Yorkshire accent, an elaborate sense of style, and a self-righteous attitude, she stresses the importance of social order and subjugation through capital punishment and fully believes that everyone, and everything, must adhere to their pre-ordained place to maintain society and order.

Against overwhelming odds and cruel oppressors, Curtis’s rebellion is a bloody and brutal affair.

Even after decades of suppression and failed revolutions, which have resulted in countless deaths and mutilations, the lower classes maintain a degree of resistance and fighting spirit; thankfully, those same years have taken their toll on the upper classes, who have not only become complacent but have also run out of bullets over the years. As a result, Curtis’s campaign to seize the train takes the guards completely off-guard and is, initially, somewhat successful. Along the way, they discover to repulsive truth behind the protein bars and are enamoured by seeing the sun, the outside world, and the opulence of the upper classes. Much death and violence accompany this push to the front, however, resulting in the sudden death of Edgar and turning Curtis’s mission into one of revenge as much as liberty.

The Nitty-Gritty:
Snowpiercer is an extremely bleak and claustrophobic tale, full of dark, desolate lighting and a surprising variety of environments considering the entire film takes place on overcrowded train carts. The back end is a grim, gloomy area that is little more than a slum but, as Curtis’s revolution proceeds through the train, environments become much more elaborate and ornate as we see the luxury and indulgence that the upper class surround themselves in.

The train’s construction and stability raises some questions but it’s definitely a unique premise.

This includes a fully-functioning school (which teaches the children of the upper class to respect and pay reverence to the train and to Wilford as though they are some kind of religious icon), lavish first-class cabins equipped with lighting, heating, and actual cooked food, and such extravagances as musicians and even a greenhouse, aquarium, and hot tubs. Of course, as with many post-apocalyptic tales, there are some questions raised by Snowpiercer’s concept and left unanswered: the train is, by definition, a perpetual motion engine that circles the world endlessly thanks to being powered by small children but, while we see it precariously clinging to the tracks throughout the film, it’s pretty obvious that the train, its tracks, or the many bridges would surely have degraded or been destroyed by the extreme cold.

It’s a hard life in an even harsher world and revolution carries a heavy cost.

Still, I can forgive a lot of these questions mainly because the film does go to some lengths to address some of the main ones (by explaining that Wilford had the foresight and the capital to prepare his train tracks and engine before the world went to Hell) and the rest are best left to one side as a degree of suspension of disbelief is necessary to allow the film to actually happen. Additionally, the overall concept of the subjugated lower classes rising in a desperate suicide mission to take control of the train is compelling enough to carry the film even through its more preposterous ideas. After a particularly bloody and costly battle through the train, Curtis secures safe passage through the train by taking Mason hostage and is disgusted to see the extent to which the upper classes indulge themselves. At the mercy of the lower classes, Mason’s previously haughty attitude and lofty position is shattered as she is force-fed the protein blocks and sells out her beloved Wilford purely to save her own wretched hide. Thankfully, as satisfying as it is to see her reduced to a blubbering wreck, she gets her ultimate comeuppance when she is duly executed by Curtis not only for the deaths and suffering she has willing taking part in over the years but also for indirectly being responsible for Gilliam’s death.

After Curtis rejects Wilford and derails the train, the two survivors face an uncertain future.

There are a number of dramatic twists that await Curtis at the head of the train; the first is that Gilliam and Wilford conspired to inspire Curtis’s rebellion simply to maintain the train’s delicate and ghastly self-sustaining ecosystem by killing off a large portion of the tail section. The second is that Wilford, seeing the need for a successor, offers Curtis the opportunity to take over as the train’s operator but, while he is tempted, having lost everything and in the face of mass executions, Curtis violently refuses when Yona reveals that the engine is powered by children from the tail section. In that moment, Curtis finally sacrifices not just a limb for his fellow passengers but also himself to derail the train and leave Yuna and the boy, Timmy (Marcanthonee Reis), to an uncertain future in a world that may be slowly thawing.

The Summary:
Snowpiercer is a fantastically dreary and depressing tale about the decaying and desperate remnants of humanity being forced into a claustrophobic space, separated by class and social standing, and forced to either scramble for survival and scraps and eek out a pathetic existence in the tail end or indulge in their every desire and whim at the front end. Trapped under the thumb of their oppressors and driven by hunger and desperation, Curtis is determined to see his mission through simply because of the suffering and death he has witnessed first-hand and his hatred of both himself and Wilford for forcing them to live in such conditions. As far as post-apocalyptic tales go, you could do a lot worse than Snowpiercer, which expertly focuses its narrative on this fragile ecosystem and presents a desolate, desperate tale of survival within a suffocating, oppressive space that separates it from its competition and results in a bleak and intense story of desperation and survival.

My Rating:

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Pretty Good

Are you a fan of Snowpiercer? How do you feel it holds up against other post-apocalyptic tales? Were you a fan of the social and class issues represented in the film and or did its bleak atmosphere put you off? Have you read the original graphic novel and, if so, how do you feel Snowpiercer works as an adaptation? Perhaps you were more a fan of the later television adaptation; if so, why is that and how does it compare to the film? How are you celebrating the end of the world today? Whatever your thoughts on Snowpiercer, feel free to leave a comment down below.

Movie Night [Christmas Countdown]: Home Alone

Dr. K2 Comments

Released: 16 November 1990
Director: Chris Columbus
Distributor: 20th Century Fox
Budget: $18 million
Stars: Macaulay Culkin, Joe Pesci, Daniel Stern, Catherine O’Hara, John Heard, and Roberts Blossom

The Plot:
When bratty eight-year-old Kevin McCallister (Culkin) acts out the night before a family trip to Paris, his mother, Kate (O’Hara), makes him sleep in the attic. After the McCallisters mistakenly leave without Kevin, he is left to defend his home from career burglars Harry (Pesci) and Marv (Stern).

The Background:
A serious contender for the greatest Christmas movie ever made, Home Alone was the brainchild of writer and producer John Hughes, who conceived of the general premise while on holiday. Hughes parlayed with both Warner Bros. and 20th Century Fox to give himself a safety net should the film go over budget, and turned to Chris Columbus to direct after the latter had a falling out with star Chevy Chase. Although Hughes pushed for Macaulay Culkin to be cast, Columbus auditioned over two hundred children for the lead role before finally agreeing that Culkin was the best fit, and filming of nighttime scenes was restricted to accommodate his age. Co-star Joe Pesci proved more troublesome to the shoot than the child actor, however, as he was angered by the early starts and struggled to keep himself from swearing. The severity of the film’s stunts also caused some tension during filming, which resulted in Culkin being permanently scarred and a real tarantula being placed on co-star Daniel Stern’s face. Home Alone was a ridiculous success at the time, grossing over $475 million at the box office and being met by largely positive reviews. While the plot and its elaborate traps were criticised, the heart-warming comedy, performances, and Culkin gained the most praise. Over the years, it’s been pegged as a Christmas classic, despite sequels diluting the premise with redundant retreads, and is a Christmas tradition more many, including myself, over the festive season.

The Review:
It’s difficult to think of a movie more synonymous with the Christmas season than this one; maybe Miracle on 34th Street (Mayfield, 1984) or Santa Claus: The Movie (Szwarc, 1985), but it’s a tough call. It’s one of those Christmas movies that’s always on every year and has become as much of a tradition as crackers and pigs in blankets. The film is a whimsical family comedy, but you wouldn’t really know that from the opening moments; when we’re introduced to the lavish McCallister family home, it’s the definition of chaotic, with screaming kids running everywhere, arguing, and their parents being just as bad. They’re all in a tizzy because they’re leaving for the airport in the morning for a luxurious Christmas getaway to France, and so preoccupied with their own problems that none of them notice (or question) the uniformed police officer desperately trying to get their attention. Although they don’t suspect a thing since this was a simpler time, the cop is actually Harry in disguise, covertly casing the neighbourhood to get a sense of its security precautions, something that McCallister patriarch Peter (Heard) really doesn’t seem all that bothered about. Peter’s happy to rely on his automatic lights and locks and such, which really goes a long way to show you how much this unexplainably rich family takes their home (and everything, for that matter) for granted. All the stress of packing and organising such a huge trip means that matriarch Kate (O’Hara) has even less patience for her youngest son’s bratty behaviour than usual; the smallest of his siblings, Kevin is ridiculed by brutish older brother Buzz (Devin Ratray) and snobby sister Linnie (Angela Goethals) for his helplessness since he’s so reliant on his mother that he can’t even pack his own suitcase for the trip.

Fed up of his neglectful family, Kevin revels in finally having his freedom.

There’s a sense that Kevin is frequently forgotten or dismissed even without his extended family in the house; with them there, he hasn’t a chance of being attended to, loses his room to his tight-fisted and grouchy uncle Frank (Gerry Bamman), and is horrified at the prospect of sharing a bed with his young cousin, Fuller (Kieran Culkin), due to his bedwetting. In a house full of noise, Kevin’s only outlet is to be louder than everyone else; he brazenly backchats his mother, offers false apologies when he’s punished for acting out, and causes the ire of his entire family when he rightly lashes out at Buzz for eating his pizza. Despite there being plenty of blame to go around, it’s easier for Kate to punish Kevin by sending him up to the third floor, and Kevin spitefully protests this injustice by wishing that she (and all of them) would disappear and leave him alone. Of course, he has no idea that fate has conspired to make this wish come true; Kevin’s plane ticket was accidentally thrown away while cleaning up his mess, Peter accidentally unplugs the alarm clock and causes them to oversleep and rush around in a panic in the morning, and an annoying neighbourhood kid (Jeffrey Wiseman) throws off Heather McCallister’s (Kristin Minter) head count, meaning nobody notices that Kevin is missing until they’re halfway to Paris (and even then it’s a strange intuition Kate suddenly has for no real reason other than a mother’s instinct). Thus, Kevin’s stunned when he finds his house empty, but this turns to elation when he remembers all the awful things his family has said and done to him, and he immediately indulges his every whim. He robs Buzz’s “life savings” (accidentally trashing his room and setting his pet tarantula loose in the process), orders himself a cheese pizza, eats copious amounts of ice cream and junk food while watching trash TV, and generally has the time of his life, all while narrating to himself and occasionally calling out to his family to punish his behaviour. Of course, it’s not all fun and games for Kevin; he applies aftershave and ends up screaming in agony and is forced to go shopping for a new toothbrush and groceries, overpacking his bags and inadvertently shoplifting after being spooked by his neighbour, Old Man Marley (Blossom), whom he’s terrified of thanks to Buzz’s wild stories of his bloodlust.

As if scary Old Man Marley wasn’t bad enough, Kevin must protect his home from the Wet Bandits.

Although continuously terrified by the old man’s grim façade, this fear is just the start of Kevin’s troubles; unbeknownst to him, Harry and Marv have systematically been robbing every house in the neighbourhood since everyone’s gone away for the holidays and left their homes vulnerable. Although far from an intelligent crook, Harry is clearly the brains of the operation; he cases out each house, evaluating their potential and noting when their security measures, and chastises the dim-witted Marv for his perverse fixation on flooding houses to earn them a reputation as the “Wet Bandits”. While Harry is methodical and meticulous, Marv is loud and bumbling, focused more on haphazardly filling his swag bag rather than searching for high value items. Harry pegs the McCallister’s as the “silver tuna” (mainly because they live in a palace!) and is astonished to find the house seemingly occupied when they go to enter it. Night after night they are dissuaded by Kevin’s elaborate deceptions, mannequins and pulleys to trick them into thinking the house is occupied. Obsessed with ransacking the house, Harry follows Kevin and quickly deduces that he’s home alone; confident that the two of them and their crowbars can handle one little boy, Harry resolves to use force but even doesn’t account for how adaptable (and cruel) Kevin is when backed against the wall. What follows is an absolute massacre that sees the two thieves beaten up, knocked about, and brutalised by Kevin’s homemade traps, each one driving Harry further and further over the edge. Pesci shines in his role as the bad-tempered thief, and you can really tell from his indistinct mumbling, garbled curses, and rising frustration that he was really living his character’s aggravation with this obnoxious little foe.

With their trip ruined, a distraught Kate desperately tries to get back home to her son.

As this is going on, the story continuously jumps over to the McCallister’s, whose Christmas vacation is effectively ruined by the realisation that they left Kevin behind; though Buzz and Frank aren’t concerned, the fun and excitement of the trip has been sucked out of everyone else, compounded by them being stuck in an apartment with nothing to do while Peter waits to hear about potential flights. Wracked with guilt and determined to make it back by any means necessary, Kate stays at the airport and wait for a cancellation after every attempt to call their neighbours and elicit the police’s assistance conveniently fails. Although Kate convinces a kindly old couple (Bill Erwin and Billie Bird) to trade some cash and valuables for a plane trip back to the United States, she’s forced to bounce around airports since she can’t get a direct flight back and naturally becomes frustrated from exhaustion and desperation. Luckily for her, friendly polka musician Gus Polinski (John Candy) takes pity on her; after rambling about his band, their success overseas, and their own transportation issues, he offers her a ride in their van, which she gratefully accepts. Although relieved to finally be on her way, and finding kindred spirits in the band since they’ve lost a lot of time with their families while on the road, she’s bombarded by upbeat polka music and endures Gus’s bizarre story of the time he left his own son in a funeral parlour. While this makes for good comedy and helps to humanise Kate after she was such a snappy bitch, I do feel there could’ve been more to this, I assume they were only able to get the late, great John candy for a day or two so he’s just a glorified cameo but I would’ve liked to see Kate spend more time reflecting on her relationship with Kevin with Gus and the band and less time screaming at airport employees. Speaking of humanising, Kevin is surprised to find that Old Man Marley isn’t the grouchy killer he’d been led to believe; while seeking solace in church after regretting taking his family for granted, Kevin speaks with Marley and learns he’s been branded by cruel lies and is actually a kindly old man who’s estranged from his family. The conversation helps Kevin to better understand his own relationship with his family, galvanises his fighting spirit, and sees Marley become an unexpected saviour in the finale, all while reinforcing the true meaning of Christmas: family.

The Nitty-Gritty:
Home Alone is certainly a product of its time and is far from perfect, but it has a quaint charm that only increases with time. Nowadays, this situation would be resolved in a heartbeat as Kevin could easily call or message his family, but that wasn’t really possible in 1990. It also doesn’t help that the power and phone lines are temporarily (and conveniently) knocked out in the opening scene, limiting Kate’s options, or that everyone in their neighbourhood also happens to be out of town at the same time. I can excuse this just by looking at the McCallister’s house and their neighbourhood; this is clearly a wealthy area, populated by the same kind of people as the McCallister’s, so it makes sense that the well-to-do would jet off over Christmas. However, one thing I’ve never been able to believe is that the McCallister’s were able to get up, get changed, load all their shit into the airport buses, get to the airport, and still make their flight in less than an hour! Even if they hadn’t overslept, I find it very difficult to believe that they’d even get to the airport on time; the lack of airport security is somewhat believable as things were different back then but, realistically, they would’ve been stuck in traffic, at the airport waiting for a later flight, or forced to head home anyway since they should’ve gotten there a good two hours early. Does this detract from my enjoyment of the film? Not at all. It’s a fun little eccentricity that, as I say, only gets more amusing the further we get from the antiquated nineties.

Thanks to his traps, Kevin fends off the thieves and gratefully reunites with his family.

Although he’s just a little boy who is apparently incapable of doing anything without parental guidance, Kevin proves to be a capable and adaptable defender thanks to his many toys, his vast imagination, and his devious and sadistic nature. In less than an hour, he draws up a battle plan that sees him planting a nail on the cellar stairs, flash freezing the stone pathways and steps, leaving broken Christmas ornaments by the window, rigging paint cans, irons, and other items to bash the crooks, and even scorches Harry’s head with a blowtorch! Kevin shoots his foes in the face and crotch, sets up Micro Machines to trip them, and even makes use of Buzz’s pet tarantula when in a tight pinch. It’s all very amusing and entertaining stuff but, while Harry and Marv suffer only superficial and comical injuries as the film turns into a live-action cartoon, the implications of these booby traps are staggering as many would surely be fatal in real life! Although Kevin rigs his house with all these traps and pratfalls, he’s smart enough to have a back-up plan that sees him lure the Wet Bandits into a trap after alerting the police, only for the two to intercept him, battered and hungry for revenge. Luckily, Old Man Marley saves Kevin’s bacon and the two are apprehended, easily charged with all their crimes thanks to Marv’s flooding obsession, but Kevin is still left all alone and morose at having apparently wished away his family. Hoping for a Christmas miracle he tidies and decorates the house only to wake up and find it still empty. This is, of course, a fake-out as Kate arrives soon after, mere moments before the rest of the family, and reconciles with Kevin. Even Buzz is impressed that Kevin didn’t burn the house down, briefly showing Him respect before he sees the state of his room, and Kevin has an emotional embrace with his mother that echoes Marley’s own reconciliation with his estranged family, ending the film on a heart-warming note.

The Summary:
Christmas isn’t Christmas without Home Alone, but I do admit that my affection for the film has waned as I’ve gotten older and more cynical. There’s something about live-action, feel-good family movies that just doesn’t age as well as animated films, particularly when it comes to Looney Tunes-style violence that turns what was a grounded (if whimsical) film into a live-action cartoon, somewhat lowering the stakes even when Harry and Marv get their hands on Kevin. It also doesn’t help that I’ve never been a big fan of Macaulay Culkin; sure, he’s just a little boy here and he definitely does well in the role, but his delivery is a bit cringey at times and Kevin is so unlikeable in the opening and obnoxious when left alone that I find it hard to root for him. I enjoy the wish-fulfilment aspects of the film, where Kevin just goes nuts around the house and with food and acting like a grown-up while still being a little kid, and it’s definitely heart-warming seeing both him and Kate (and the rest of the family) realise how much they mean too each other. But, for me, the appeal of the film is the Wet Bandits; Marv might be an idiot, but Harry is so alluring as a cantankerous, scheming thief whose patience is pushed to the limit by Kevin’s traps and antics. Seeing them fall afoul of Kevin’s booby traps is still the best part of the film, even if it does drastically shift the tone, and I enjoyed the imagination and mischievousness behind Kevin’s antics and traps, I just wish that we’d had some inkling of his ability to set these up beforehand. He goes from a bratty, underappreciated kid to a free-spirited child to setting potentially lethal traps pretty quickly, which I guess speaks to how everyone (even he) underestimates him, but I could’ve done with this being fleshed out a little since we were specifically told that he was Les Incompétents. Ultimately, these are minor gripes from a bitter and aging film nerd; kids and youngsters will still find plenty to enjoy here, even if the film is heavily dated in some aspects, and Home Alone is still a staple of the festive season despite its flaws.

My Rating:

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Pretty Good

What do you think to Home Alone? Is it a Christmas tradition of yours or do you prefer another Christmas movie; if so, what is it? What did you think to Macaulay Culkin’s performance? Did you enjoy seeing his bobby traps in action? What did you think to the Wet Bandits and Kate’s desperate attempts to get home to her son? Have you ever been left home alone? What did you think to the film’s sequels? Whatever your thoughts, leave a comment below and be sure to check out my other Christmas movie reviews!

Movie Night: The Marvels

Dr. K3 Comments

Released: 10 November 2023
Director: Nia DaCosta
Distributor: Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures
Budget: $270 million
Stars: Brie Larson, Teyonah Parris, Iman Vellani, Zawe Ashton, and Samuel L. Jackson 

The Plot:
Whilst investigating a universal threat as a favour to Nick Fury (Jackson), Captain Carol Danvers/Captain Marvel (Larson) discovers an anomaly in the fabric of space and time caused by venge-seeking Kree commander Dar-Benn (Ashton). Coincidentally interacting with the anomaly at the same time as Captain Monica Rambeau (Parris) and Kamala Khan/Ms. Marvel (Vellani) use their own cosmic powers, Danvers finds herself switching places with the two heroes and forced to join forces with them to prevent Dar-Benn from destroying the people dearest to her. 

The Background:
After a 1953 lawsuit regarding Fawcett Comics’ Billy Batson/Captain Marvel, Marvel Comics got to trademark and publish their own “Captain Marvel” stories. While Stan Lee and Gene Colan’s Kree warrior is mostly remembered for his death from cancer in 1982, Mar-Vell was followed by a numerous successors, including Carol Danvers, who overcame online trolls with her critical and commercial debut. Talk of a sequel began before Captain Marvel’s (Boden and Fleck, 2019) release, with star Brie Larson wishing to see Kamala Khan/Ms. Marvel included and MCU head honcho Kevin Feige stating that Marvel Studios had some exciting ideas for a follow-up. After Larson cameoed in adjacent spin-off Ms. Marvel (Various, 2022), which introduced Kamala to the MCU, and Teyonah Parris portrayed a grown-up and superpowered Monica Rambeau in WandaVision (Shakman, 2021), the stage was set for a team-up of the cosmically-empowered heroines, especially after director Nia DaCosta was announced to be helming the sequel and exploring new perspectives on these characters. When other MCU productions caused changes to the script, the filmmakers shifted to focus on the dynamic between the three main characters, with numerous special effects studios contributing to the film’s cosmic scope. Following several delays, The Marvels finally released to polarising reviews; many criticised the surreal moments and rushed narrative and branded it as the worst MCU film to date, while others praised the performances (specifically Iman Vellani) and its fun, kinetic action sequences, Still, as of this writing, The Marvels has barely cleared $165 million at the box office, had the lowest opening weekend of any MCU movie, and is on track to be a box office bomb, leaving the future for these characters murky.

The Review:
I really enjoyed Captain Marvel. At the time, I was fully expecting the film to dictate the next phase of Marvel movies, positioning Captain Marvel as a powerful force in the MCU and establishing the shape-shifting Skrulls as an ongoing threat to these colourful characters. Sadly, however, that didn’t really happen; the movie subverted expectations and cast the Skrulls in a sympathetic light and attempts to make them more antagonistic were questionable, at best. Indeed, the Skrulls barely feature in The Marvels except for a brief sub-plot where Dar-Benn arrives on Tarnax, where they have established a refugee colony under the leadership of Emperor Dro’ge (Gary Lewis), under the guise of a peace treaty simply to create an unstable jump point that strips Tarnax of its atmosphere and forces the Skrulls from their world once more. Despite Captain Marvel having helped settle the colony, and the assistance of her and her new allies in evacuating much of Tarnax and arranging safe refuge with King Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson), Emperor Dro’ge is seen to have lost faith in Captain Marvel, primarily because he believes she ruined a chance for the Skrulls to return to prosperity in the Kree Empire and resents her for inviting conflict. Captain Marbel also ended with the promise of Carol avenging herself against her warmongering Kree superiors, a plot point that sadly sets a precedent for The Marvels as it’s simply rushed through, brushed aside, and barely explored, especially considering Carol’s destruction of the now-comic-accurate Supreme Intelligence is the catalyst not just for the slow destruction of the Kree home world, Hala, but also Dar-Benn’s entire vendetta against Captain Marvel. It’s a shame as I would’ve liked to see Carol fighting to free her adopted people from the manipulation and influence of the Supreme Intelligence, but it feels as though there was a Captain Marvel 2 we never got that actually told this story, including a rematch with Yon-Rogg (Jude Law) and her former Starforce allies, as all of this is relegated to a quick flashback and a brief scene where Carol awkwardly expresses guilt over setting the paper-thin plot of this movie in motion. 

Carol and Monica finally reunite, brush past their issues, and join forces.

So, what are we left with instead? Well, Captain Marvel has effectively lost herself to her work; she’s so busy investigating and confronting cosmic threats and trying to atone for essentially dooming Hala to destruction that she’s largely closed herself off to others. The only person she regularly talks to is Fury and the closest thing she has to a friend is the cat-like Flerken, Goose (Nemo and Tango); her shame at being labelled the murderous “Annihilator” has kept her away from Earth and her surrogate niece, Monica, earning her the new-empowered Captain’s resentment. Though haunted by the gaps in her memory and anxious about opening herself up to others, Carol is nonetheless excited to reunite with the grown-up Monica, even more so when she sees that Monica’s not only gained light-based powers of her own that allow her to become intangible, fire bursts of energy, and (eventually) fly, but also followed in and surpassed the footsteps of her mother, Captain Maria Rambeau (Lashana Lynch) by joining Fury’s Strategic Aerospace Biophysics and Exolinguistic Response (S.A.B.E.R.) crew. New to, and resistant towards, the superhero game (she actively resists being labelled with a code-name), Monica struggles to reconcile her conflicting emotions towards her Aunt Carol; on the one hand, she’s glad to be with her again but, on the other, she begrudges Carol for leaving her to face her mother’s death and life after the Blip alone. Still, Monica acquits herself well in this fast-paced cosmic adventure; her powers may be strangely defined, but she takes a commanding role in the threesome and quickly embraces and enjoys teaming up with Carol and Kamala. Because Captain Marvel has definitely been shown to be one of the (if not the most) powerful characters in the MCU, it can be difficult to imagine her struggling against any enemy or ever requiring a team, even though we saw that she is far from an infallible, unstoppable one-woman army in Avengers: Endgame (Russo and Russo, 2019).  

Kamala is the adorable heart and soul of the film and awestruck by her hero.

Still, The Marvels gets around Carol’s incredible and unmatched power through a unique and enjoyable body-swapping mechanic. Thanks to Dar-Benn’s actions and the similarities in their cosmic, light-based powers, Carol, Monica, and Kamala switch places whenever they use their powers in unison; this causes a great deal of distress for the young Ms. Marvel, who suddenly finds herself dumped halfway across the galaxy and fighting Kree warriors and her family – overbearing Muneeba Khan (Zenobia Shroff), astonished Yusuf Khan (Mohan Kapur), and exasperated Aamir Khan (Saagar Shaikh) – threatened by those same forces. Still, Kamala is the shining light in this film; her adorable, infectious enthusiasm is a joy to see and she’s genuinely excited to meet, and team up with, her lifelong hero. When there’s tension between Carol and Monica, Kamala acts as the intermediary, dishing out sympathy, excitement, and hugs despite how in over her head she is. Since Dar-Benn possesses the other mystical bangle, Kamala becomes a target for the fanatical Kree, who wishes to have both so that she can enact the full extent of her diabolical plan, and Kamala is determined to prove herself to Carol, Monica, Fury, and her family. However, as thrilling as it is for Kamala to bond with Carol and Monica (and they do develop a true, charming sisterhood over a few montages), she also learns how dangerous and bleak the superhero life is. Carol’s actions are not always virtuous and she’s forced to make hard choices as often as she is to visit planets like Aladna, where the inhabitants can only communicate through song and dance, though the experience galvanises Kamala’s spirit and inspires her to seek out other young heroes to form a team of their own. Fury was also quite enjoyable here; although he doesn’t work alongside Carol in the same way as the first film, The Marvels repositions him as the principal figurehead for Earth/galaxy relations and he takes an active role in guiding the Marvels and evacuating S.A.B.E.R.’s inhabitants using a clowder of Flerkens in another of the film’s strangely bizarre sequences. 

The vengeful Dar-Benn is a disappointingly bland and forgettable villain.

While the relationship between the Marvels is naturally at the forefront here, and is easily the best element of the film, other aspects are underdeveloped and rushed; The Marvels is the shortest MCU movie to date and really ploughs through all its characterisations and plot, which means things like Monica’s relationship towards Carol and Carol’s shame at her actions are touched upon and then quickly cast aside. However, the real casualty of the film’s brisk pace is the lead villain. Essentially just Ronan the Accuser (Lee Pace) again, Dar-Benn even wields Ronan’s mallet-like staff (which strangely still glows and demonstrates the same properties it did when it had the Power Stone in it), which just lends further credibility to my argument that Ronan should’ve been a recurring threat in the MCU. Dar-Benn sadly ends up as a throwback to villains like Ronan and Malekith (Christopher Eccleston), underdeveloped, one-dimensional bad guys who do “bad guy stuff” simply because the movie needs a bad guy. Dar-Benn’s vendetta is based on Carol destroying the Supreme Intelligence, an act that…somehow…had cataclysmic ramifications for Hala, including destroying its atmosphere, oceans, and even its sun, driving Dar-Benn to use the vaguely-defined bangle to rip open holes in space and time to suck these resources from Carol’s adopted worlds in what is, essentially, the villainous plot from Spaceballs (Brooks, 1987). A driven, fanatical patriot, Dar-Benn is a hero by her people and poses a significant threat to the Marvels thanks to her bangle absorbing their blasts, the power of her mallet, and the confusion caused by them switching bodies, but is ultimately overwhelmed without much trouble and destroyed by her own obsession. She’s sadly far from a memorable villain, despite her posing a legitimate threat to the universe, and is just another aspect of the film that’s not given enough time to flourish onscreen; it’s a real shame as I thought we were past the age of unforgettable, wasted villains in comic book movies but here’s The Marvels to prove me wrong and harken back to lacklustre movies like Fantastic 4: Rise of the Silver Surfer (Story, 2007). 

The Nitty-Gritty:
There are some themes at work in The Marvels, but they’re severely rushed and take a backseat to keeping the narrative and the action moving ever forwards. It’s as though the film is afraid to linger too long on complex emotions and characterisations, or like a good hour or so of the plot was excised in favour of wacky nonsense that bogs down the otherwise intriguing relationship between the Marvels. Monica resents Carol for leaving her and prioritising work over her friends and family, something we learn is as much because of Carol’s humiliation at dooming Hala to destruction as it is because of her duties to the cosmos. Carol believed she was liberating the Kree when she destroyed the Supreme Intelligence but was horrified by the consequences of her actions, which see the Kree brand her as the feared “Annihilator” and target her allies in recompense. While fangirl Kamala is overjoyed to meet and fight alongside her idol, she quickly learns how dangerous the superhero life is when she’s placed in constant danger (much to the concern of her family) and sees that, sometimes, heroes can’t save everyone. Her enthusiasm remains boundless, however, and she’s very much the heart that binds the Marvels together and makes their training montages and interactions even more enjoyable, but The Marvels is handicapped by some truly bizarre sequences. They trio travel to Aladna to warn of Dar-Benn’s threat, a planet where Carol is revered as a princess and married to the forgettable Prince Yan (Park Seo-joon), and where the inhabitants communicate through singing and dancing, forcing a really surreal musical number into the film that feels more at home in Taiki Waititi’s Thor movies (2017; 2022).  

Some fun action mechanics and impressive visuals can’t atone for the film’s more surreal moments,

The Marvels may also alienate those who haven’t seen the Ms. Marvel Disney+ series. Although Kamala and her family are introduced to unaware viewers, they still kind of appear from nowhere for the uninitiated, not unlike the mentions of Westview in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (Raimi, 2022). I firmly believe we’re at a point where MCU fans are digesting every product the MCU puts out, so there probably aren’t many people who are confused when the Disney+ shows are referenced or appear in the movies, but this could escalate into a bigger problem in the future. Still, the inclusion of Ms. Marvel adds to the film’s frantic action sequences; it’s fun seeing the three stumble about, suddenly deposited in different locations and having to quickly adapt to save themselves, and others, as the situation dictates. Through some fun montages and learning to communicate, the Marvels overcome the issue of their body swapping to form a cohesive unit that both allows them to overwhelm Dar-Benn and keeps the ultra-powerful Captain Marvel from simply ending every threat by herself. Cosmic, space-based action is kept to a minimum this time around, with most of the special effects reserved for planetary destruction and depicting rips in the fabric of reality. I will say, though, that Ms. Marvel’s powers look a little iffy at times, though the film’s costumes make up for this, with Carol sporting some snug, sexy uniforms and Kamala getting a nice upgrade that sees her gain a whip-like scarf, though I didn’t care for Monica rejecting adopting a code name and tearing off the disco-wings of her Aladna outfit as, again, I thought we were past the age of mocking superhero tropes. 

The Marvels work together to defeat Dar-Bonn, but Monica sacrifices her freedom to save the galaxy,

So, Dar-Benn’s revenge sees her scour the universe for the sister bangle to Kamala’s heirloom; when combined with Ronan’s staff, this allows her to create unstable jump points that suck air, water, and the sun from worlds that are close to Carol, with the goal of restoring the Kree home world and delivering a decisive blow to Carol. Although she has an army of loyal soldiers at her back, this doesn’t really factor into Dar-Benn’s plan and the Kree exist primarily as cannon fodder for the Marvels to beat up as they save lives and try to confront the head of the snake. This confrontation takes place, naturally, on Dar-Benn’s command ship as she arrives to suck the life out of Earth’s sun and sees the Marvels working in unison to overwhelm their foe, ultimately (and inadvertently) mortally wounding her. Carol echoes Kamala’s compassion for the fallen Kree and, on Monica’s suggestion, offers to reignite Hala’s sun to atone for her actions, which Dar-Benn seems to agree to but she ultimately can’t let go of her vendetta and destroys herself after creating a massive tear in the fabric of reality. Luckily, the Marvels surmise that Carol and Kamala can recreate the energy used to create this tear and use it to empower Monica so she can close it, an action that must be performed from inside the rift and ultimately results in Monica seemingly sacrificing herself to save the universe. Changed by the experiences, Carol decides to spend more time on Earth to wait for Monica’s inevitable return, and Kamala heads out to start her own superhero team, with Fury spearheading the repairs to S.A.B.E.R. to monitor future intergalactic threats. Of course, Monica isn’t dead as a mid-credits scene shows her waking up in a hospital, overjoyed and overwhelmed to find her mother at her side. However, this is a variant of Monica’s mother, one who has adopted the Captain Marvel powers and codename of Binary and works alongside Doctor Henry “Hank” McCoy/Beast (Kelsey Grammer) at the X-Mansion. This was a fun stinger since recent MCU products have laid the groundwork for the X-Men and I enjoyed the inspiration from the nineties’ cartoon, but Beast was an unsightly CGI creation and I remain incredulous to Marvel’s resistance towards recasting new actors as the X-Men, and the idea that Mutants need to step through a tear in reality to exist in the MCU. 

The Summary:
I had high hopes for The Marvels; I really enjoyed Captain Marvel, and Ms. Marvel, and was interested to see Carol and Kamala meet onscreen, and explore the relationship between Carol and Monica. These aspects were, thankfully, exceedingly well realised; the three had some great chemistry, obviously had fun working together, and formed a fun sisterhood that perfectly balanced their different characters and experiences (and inexperiences, in some cases). I don’t normally like body swap narratives (and, in truth, it started to wear out its welcome here in the early going) but, for the most part, it was a fun inclusion; it was a unique way to nerf Captain Marvel’s vast cosmic powers and show her the benefits of working with others, and to repair the rift between her and Monica and induct Ms. Marvel into the wider superhero community. Sadly, that’s about where my praise for The Marvels ends; Dar-Benn is in the running for weakest MCU villain of all time, the plot was slapdash and simple, and any nuance or intrigue laced into the narrative was breezed through to get to the next wacky sequence. It honestly felt like major cuts were made, or we missed an entire movie, and I didn’t care for the half-assed characterisation of Dar-Benn or the mockery of superhero tropes, which are both negative elements of the genre that I thought we had moved on from. On the one hand, I liked that the film didn’t outstay its welcome and had a brisk pace, but I think the overall plot and characterisations (outside of the titular trio) suffered because of it. This is definitely a miss-fire for me, ultimately coming across as a film that exists for the sake of existing and setting up future MCU products rather than delivering a solid follow-up worthy of the principal cast.  

My Rating:

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Pretty Good

Did you enjoy The Marvels? What did you think to the dynamic between the trio and which of the three is your favourite? Did you like the film’s brisk pace, or do you agree that certain elements were rushed? Were you also disappointed in Dar-Benn? Are you also annoyed that the X-Men are being introduced as part of the multiverse? Would you like to see the Marvels join forces in a future MCU movie? Whatever your thoughts on The Marvels, leave a comment down below.

Movie Night [Godzilla Day]: Ghidrah, the Three-Headed Monster

Dr. K2 Comments

Toho’s famous atomic beast, and easily the most recognisable kaiju in the entire world, Gojira first emerged to wreck the city of Tokyo on this day all the way back in 1954 and, in 2016, the day was subsequently declared “Godzilla Day”.

Released: 20 December 1964
Director: Ishirō Honda
Distributor: Toho
Budget: Unknown
Stars: Haruo Nakajima, Yosuke Natsuki, Shoichi Hirose, Akiko Wakabayashi, Masanori Shinohara, and Takashi Shimura

The Plot:
An alien prophetess (Wakabayashi) predicts catastrophic attacks from Godzilla (Nakajima) and Rodan (Shinohara), leading to Mothra intervening to defend humanity. However, when the hydra-like space dragon King Ghidorah (Hirose) appears, the warring kaiju must set aside their differences to battle this devastating new foe.

The Background:
6th August 1946. The height of the Second World War. The Americans dropped two nuclear weapons on Hiroshima and Nagaski, killing tens of thousands of people and forcing the Japanese Imperial Army to surrender. The radioactive fallout saw thousands more dying, and post-war Japan was gripped with nuclear fear, a fear that birthed Gojira, the living embodiment of nuclear destruction. However, soon after this debut in Godzilla (Honda, 1954), the King of the Monsters turned from Japan’s destroyer to its reluctant saviour, defending the country from other kaiju attacks as a matter of principal. Following the commercial success of Godzilla’s last two movies, Ghidrah, the Three-Headed Monster was rushed into release; it included the return and redesign of fellow kaiju Rodan after a nearly ten-year absence, a recycled Mothra animatronic with marginal changes, and Toho’s most complex kaiju yet, the three-headed dragon King Ghidorah. Arguably Godzilla’s greatest nemesis, King Ghidorah was conceived by Godzilla creator Tomoyuki Tanaka and inspired by the Lernaean Hydra and the Orochi of Japanese folklore, and its debut feature was so successful that it reappeared in Toho’s next giant-monster film the following year.

The Review:
Our story opens with reporter Naoko Shindo (Yuriko Hoshi) visiting a communications centre that’s trying to contact extraterrestrials. Headed by their resident expert (Someshô Matsumoto), they truly believe that “flying saucer people” are out there, and wary of non-believers, so much that Naoko’s scepticism is blamed for their failure to communicate with the aliens. For a group of presumed scientists and academics, they’re oddly fanatical about this; since the world is experiencing an unseasonable heat wave, they’re concerned that a catastrophe is looming and believe the saucer people are their only chance of salvation and find Naoko’s ditzy disinterest to be insultingly narrow-minded…even though she’s simply there to do a job and desires proof. You know, the kind of evidence scientists strive to gather. A small meteor shower interrupts their meeting and draws Naoko’s friend, Professor Murai (Hiroshi Koizumi), and his team to investigate. They discover a large cocoon-like meteor that randomly emits magnetic waves and leaves them baffled. Naoko’s brother, Detective Shindo (Natsuki), likes to tease Naoko about her friendship with Murai; although grown adults, they still bicker like children, and she doesn’t appreciate his remarks or him getting in the way of her career. Shindo is stunned when he’s assigned to protect the visiting Princess Salno of Selgina (Wakabayashi), who’s facing assassination from her ruthless uncle (Shin Ôtomo), who desires her throne. Shindo is even more stunned when Salno appears to be killed when her plane explodes and she crops up as a doomsaying Prophetess who claims to be from Mars and warns that the world faces impending doom unless humanity changes their ways and takes better care of the environment, much to the jeers and doubts of the public.

Shindo and his sister are caught up with a mysterious woman who claims to be from Mars!

Assuming that Salno faked her death to escape her uncle’s assassin (Hisaya Ito), Shindo volunteers to bring her into protective custody, causing a brief conflict when he finds Naoko shielding her in hopes of getting an exclusive story. Drawn from her plane before the explosion by a disembodied alien presence that possesses her, psychiatrist Doctor Tsukamoto (Shimura) later reveals that the Prophetess is just one of a displaced, highly advanced alien race that fled to Earth and assimilate themselves into humanity, losing many of their fantastic abilities in the process, when the Red Planet was decimated by Ghidrah. One of the deadpan Prophetess’ remaining abilities is the ability to predict pending disasters that are repeatedly mocked and ignored; she warns people away from Mount Aso, where the prehistoric kaiju Rodan emerges from the volcano, and advises the fairy-like Shobijin (Emi and Yumi Itō) not to sail home to the benevolent Mothra on Infant Island, which they heed and are thus spared a violent death from Godzilla’s atomic breath. Despite the looming kaiju threat, the assassin and his cohorts continually hound the Prophetess, determined to kill her as per their orders, in a bizarre side-plot that honestly distracts from what we’re all here to see (but I guess it makes a change from following a soldier or a reporter as these films often do). Even with the three kaiju battling in the foreground, the assassin tries to complete his mission and yet somehow misses the easiest kill shot in the world! Although Shindo rushes to her aid and a brief firefight ensues, the assassin is ultimately crushed under falling rocks from the kaiju battle. In all the chaos, Shindo is wounded from a bullet and the Prophetess takes a grazing shot to the head and a nasty fall that conveniently sees the alien presence driven from her body…

Mothra is asked to unite rivals Godzilla and Rodan when Ghidrah goes on a rampage.

By this film, kaiju are well established; despite them slumbering for great lengths of time and occasionally defending humanity, they’re generally regarded as unpredictable and dangerous. One of the most popular and benign is Mothra, who’s such a celebrity that his fairy companions appear on television to reveal that one of the Mothra larvae has died since the previous film and that the remaining larvae is worshipped as a God. Sadly, for a film that boasts four kaiju, it takes ages to see them onscreen, and over forty minutes for Godzilla to show up! Even worse, although Godzilla’s clearly enraged at Rodan’s presence and they awkwardly exchange blows, the film initially focuses on dull political debate and fades to black right as things are getting interesting. The meteor eventually yields the most visually striking aspect of the film, and Godzilla’s greatest nemesis, the titular Ghidrah, a three-headed dragon covered in golden scales. With the Japanese military refusing to employ atomic weapons, they turn to the Shobijin to plead for Mothra’s help. Unfortunately, the fairies admit that Mothra alone isn’t strong enough to battle Ghidrah and the only hope for victory is for the larvae to convince Godzilla and Rodan to team up against the demonic dragon. It takes some time for Ghidrah to cross paths with its foes; until then, the focus is on Godzilla and Rodan, who battle furiously with neither one having a clear advantage (Rodan’s fight allows it to keep Godzilla off-balance and even pick him up and dump him on some power lines, but Godzilla’s functionally indestructible and simply grows more enraged the longer the fight rages on). Their pig-headedness means Ghidrah causes havoc unopposed by either the kaiju or the miliary; indeed, the military don’t even mobilise their tanks or planes to engage Ghidrah and, instead, the ineffectual government places all their faith in Mothra and his desperate plan to join forces with Godzilla and Rodan.

The Nitty-Gritty:
You may have noticed a few inconsistences in my review; these are due to me watching the English dub, which has the Prophetess and her people originate from Mars rather than Venus, pronounces and spells Ghidorah’s name differently and drops its regal title, and changes the traditionally female Mothra to a male. While some purists may argue that the original Japanese audio and English titles are superior (and they’re often right), I usually always go with the dubbed version just to make things easier and because of the often-hilarious line delivery. The film contains an environmental message that echoes sci-fi classic The Day the Earth Stood Still (Wise, 1951); decades before global warming was the hot buzz word, Ghidrah, the Three-Headed Monster warns about such disastrous concerns as climate change and global warming. The Prophetess foretells that humanity is doomed if they don’t change their ways, but this message falls a little flat as her warnings are not actually about mankind directly and instead refer to the monstrous kaiju that threaten their world. While technically these creatures (with the exception of Ghidrah) could be said to be man-made, given they were mutated by radiation and such, they’re usually always more depicted as a force of nature. Godzilla, especially, is usually always the embodiment of nature’s wrath and man’s hubris taking destructive revenge upon the world, so it’s a little weird to say “you’re dooming yourselves” when actually you mean “a big-ass alien monster’s gonna wreck shit”.

The film is definitely ambitious with its suit effects, though maybe a little too ambitious at times.

Although it takes forever for Godzilla to finally make an appearance, he’s as impressive as ever; while the suit is bulky and incapable of blinking, it’s always a joy to see Godzilla trampling model buildings as people flee in terror. Emerging from its cocoon in a shower of sparks and animated lights, Ghidrah makes for an intimidating foe with its three screeching heads and chaotic lighting blasts; like Rodan, Ghidrah devastates everything in its path with a supersonic crash and, like Godzilla, it emits destructive energy beams, but in the form of wild and crackling lightning. Unfortunately, it does look incredibly ungainly with its bulbous body and lack of arms; while its three dragon-like heads go some way too make up for this handicap, biting and attacking with malicious intent, they also look a bit dodgy flopping and flailing all over the place and I really do think Ghidrah would be even more threatening if it had arms and talons to grab and attack with and just make its body look a little less comical. Unlike their counterparts, Rodan and Mothra are far less versatile and clunky; Rodan may still be a man in a suit but his flying scenes are realised through obvious wires and a powerful wind machine, while Mothra is purely a partially animatronic creature that bumbles about the place spitting silly string because, maddeningly, the filmmakers decided to keep Mothra in his larvae form rather than utilise the more visually interesting (if equally restrictive) moth form. Rodan’s flying scenes are, admittedly, pretty ridiculous; I admire the filmmakers for trying to inject some variety with their kaiju designs and have always had a soft spot for Rodan, but it’s laughable seeing the static model being strung along on wires (alongside a jet engine sound effect) and bashing into Godzilla. Godzilla still uses his atomic breath rather than a destructive beam of energy, meaning both are noticeably weaker than I’d usually expect from the King of the Monsters; Rodan can take the breath at point-blank range and even comically disorientates Godzilla by pecking him repeatedly in the head!

Eventually the three kaiju come together to scare Ghidrah off with ridiculous ease.

Honestly, the fight between Godzilla and Rodan is pretty ridiculous thanks to the filmmakers just being a little too ambitious; Rodan flies about, pecks at Godzilla and its tail, and pushes the Big G back with powerful wind blasts, and Godzilla mostly flails his little arms, whacks Rodan with his tail in a glorified slap fest, and sends rocks flying at his foe that fail to hit with any convincing impact. The two even play dead man’s volley with the boulders, which is presented as two Apex Predators looking to prove their might, and they’re only subdued when Mothra tangles them up in silly string to plead for their co-operation. The Shobijin are on hand to translate; despite their differences, Godzilla and Rodan agree that they have nothing to gain from helping humans and have no interest in getting involved and would rather fight each other. However, the two quickly change their minds when they see Mothra bravely taking on Ghidrah alone and be easily overwhelmed by its lightning bolts. Not that Godzilla or Rodan initially fare much better; Godzilla gets blasted into a bridge and engulfed in raging flames and Rodan injures itself more than its monstrous foe when it knocks Ghidrah out of the air. With Rodan forced to take cover from Ghidrah’s lightning, Godzilla literally drags Mothra back into the fray and goes back to his tried-and-true strategy of chucking and kicking rocks and gets blasted in the crotch for his troubles! Eventually, Godzilla, Rodan, and Mothra come together as best as they (and their cumbersome suits) allow to overwhelm Ghidrah; Godzilla wrestles with it, absorbing the brunt of its attacks, while Mothra nips at its tail and engulfs it with String Shot while being carried on Rodan’s back. Somehow, this is enough to force the hydra to flee, bringing the battle to an anti-climatic end. In the aftermath, Princess Salno exhibits no memories of her time as a Martian beyond a lingering gratitude for Shindo and Mothra heads back to Infant Island with the Shobijin, bidding a fond farewell to his new allies, who have set aside their grievances.

The Summary:
Geez, I may apologise for Godzilla movies a lot and cut them some slack, but this was a pretty awful movie to sit through! The tone is all over the place, emphasising the importance of respecting the world and avoiding global disaster on one hand and then having slapstick kaiju violence the next. While Ghidrah may look intimidating and is depicted as a crazed, destructive alien beast, it’s defeated with a pathetic amount of ease; the film makes a big deal about how Mothra isn’t strong enough to defeat the creature, yet all Godzilla does is hold it still and all Rodan does is carry Mothra so he can string it up! The bulk of the monster madness is focused on Godzilla and Rodan, which would be fine if the fights weren’t so laughably bad! This is only Godzilla’s fifth movie so I understand that all the kinks weren’t figured out yet, and I get that there’s only so much you can do with puppets and suitmation, but maybe the filmmakers should’ve set their goals a little lower and simply focused on Godzilla battling with Mothra and left Rodan out of this since it really didn’t do much against Ghidrah that couldn’t have been accomplished without it. The film also spends way too much time focusing on this batshit crazy Martian presence, or whatever, when it should’ve been focused on the mystery of the glowing meteor. I would’ve skipped the Prophetess and incorporated her environmental message into Shindo, rewritten him to be a scientist investigating the meteor, and had Naoko cover the emergence of the kaiju. Again, I get that we need to follow human characters, but they dominate the film’s runtime and just aren’t very interesting, especially compared to what should’ve been an epic assembling of four bad-ass kaiju with the fate of the Earth at stake. Instead, I never felt like humanity was threatened by Ghidrah and the kaiju action was severely lacking due to the imitations of the suits, meaning Ghidrah’s big debut film ended up being a dull and ultimately forgettable experience for me.

My Rating:

Rating: 2 out of 5.

Could Be Better

What did you think to King Ghidorah’s debut film? Were you also disappointed by the bonkers human sub-plot, or did you enjoy the alien narrative? What did you think to the build up to King Ghidorah’s appearance and powers? Did you also find the kaiju battles lacking? Which incarnation of King Ghidorah is your favourite? What is your favourite Godzilla movie and why? How are you celebrating Godzilla Day this year? Whatever your thoughts on Godzilla and King Ghidorah, feel free to leave a comment below and be sure to check out my other Godzilla and kaiju reviews across the site!

Movie Night [Day of the Dead]: Night of the Living Dead (1968)

Dr. K2 Comments

The Day of the Dead (or Dia de los Muertos) is a traditional Latin American holiday on which, every November 1st, the lives of deceased loved ones are celebrated with food, drink, parties, and a great deal of masquerade involving the calacas and calaveras (skeletons and skulls). For me, this seems like the perfect excuse to look back on the long-running and ever-changing zombie genre that was largely popularised by director George A. Romero, which I devoted a great deal of my PhD thesis towards and which has often been used as a parallel to various aspects of society and culture.  

Released: 1 October 1968
Director: George A. Romero
Distributor: Continental Distributing
Budget: $114,000 to 125,000
Stars: Duane Jones, Judith O’Dea, Karl Hardman, Marilyn Eastman, and Kyra Schon

The Plot:
When the recently deceased suddenly return to life, traumatised Barbra (O’Dea) takes shelter in a farmhouse alongside pragmatic Ben (Jones) and antagonistic Harry Cooper (Hardman). With tensions rising and the walking dead closing in, the group struggles to survive, co-exist, and make sense of this strange phenomenon.

The Background:
Ever since the 1930s, zombies have appeared in movies in one form or another, either as mindless slaves, voracious cannibals, or in their most famous form: the shambling undead. After growing bored with directing television commercials, George A. Romero and his friends, John Russo and Russell Steiner, decided to capitalise on growing trends for more bizarre content and produce a horror movie. Initially conceived of as a horror comedy about adolescent aliens, it was Russo who decided the creatures being flesh-eating reanimated corpses, which Romero infused with heavy inspiration from the macabre revolutionary themes of I Am Legend (Matheson, 1954) and its first screen adaptation, The Last Man on Earth (Salkow and Ragona, 1964). Although the role of Ben was written as a Caucasian, Duane Jones impressed Romero in his audition and the script was revised based on his input; his casting and portrayal inspired numerous racial readings and made the film surprisingly progressive for the time. The low-budget impacted the options available to the filmmakers; chocolate syrup, entrails from butcher shops, and simple make-up effects brought the gore and ghouls to gruesome life and, while simplistic by today’s standards, proved shocking and outrageous at the time. Despite the controversy it caused, Night of the Living Dead was a massive hit with its box office gross of over $30 million; although critics dismissed it at the time, Night of the Living Dead has since been regarded as a horror classic, one of the best of its era, and it was preserved in the National Film Registry in 1999. The film was not only followed by subsequent sequels (both official and unofficial) and (thanks to an agreement between Romero and Russo) a similarly-named adjacent series) that expanded and refined the zombie concept, but heavily influenced the portrayal of zombies for decades. Remade in 1990 to recoup some profit after legal issues saw the original become public domain, Night of the Living Dead is also the most remade film in history.

The Review:
When I decided to spend a year of my PhD discussing the original Resident Evil movies (Various, 2002 to 2016), I found myself deeply entrenched in the rich and lengthy lore of zombie cinema, tracking their origins as voodoo slaves in White Zombie (Halperin, 1932), their vampire-like depiction in I Am Legend and the first of its many adaptations, The Last Man on Earth, and, of course, charting the history of Romero’s genre-defining depiction of the living dead. I found that zombies are one of the most enduring horror creatures not just in cinema, but in mainstream media; they’ve been as persistent as they appear in movies, changing from shambling ghouls to rage-filled savages, and continue to be popular inclusions in horror media thanks to how versatile they are. Honestly, though, this kind of research and in-depth exposure to zombie cinema kind of ruined my appreciation for zombie movies; many are low-budget, derivative affairs or simply repeat the same lessons established by Romero decades ago, meaning it can be hard to find quality zombie movies. Although well renowned as the grandfather of this sub-genre of horror, Romero’s first effort in bringing zombies to un-life is fraught with issues, ranging from the obvious low budget and stilted performances to inconsistences in the portrayal and behaviour of the titular living dead as these aspects wouldn’t be refined until the far more visually and philosophically interesting (but, blasphemously, still quite tedious, in my opinion) sequel. I also feel compelled to specify here that I’m looking at the black and white original rather than the many different re-releases or the bastardised colour version, simply to give my thoughts on Romero’s original vision as depicted so controversially decades ago.

Unlike Ben, who takes charge as a resourceful leader, Barbra is little more than a traumatised mouse.

We open with Barbra and her brother, Johnny (Russell Streiner), reaching the end of a regular 200-mile round trip to place a wreath on their father’s grave at the behest of their mother. Johnny, exasperated at regularly having to waste his days commemorating a man he barely even remembers, just wants to get back home and stop throwing away good money for sentiment. While Barbra is happy to make the trip and thinks fondly of her father, Johnny has no time for lingering and amuses himself by teasing Barbra since she’s still scared by cemeteries. Indeed, Barbra’s previous resolve in chastising Johnny’s attitude falters when he starts bullying her, but they’re both horrified when a strange, shambling man (Bill Hinzman) suddenly attacks them. Although Johnny bravely (if awkwardly) tries to fight the man off, he ends up bashed into a gravestone, leaving Barbra fleeing in terror. After…somehow…crashing her car, Barbra is forced to take refuge in a nearby farmhouse; though she arms herself with a knife, she’s unable to call for help due to mysterious interference on the line but, luckily, Ben shows up and immediately takes charge. If you’re hoping for a strong, capable female lead then you’re out of luck, Barbra is so crippled by fear that’s practically catatonic, sleepwalking through the rest of the film and completely giving into despair while Ben is forthright and bravely tackles the ghouls with a tyre iron. Although he’s just as scared as her, his thoughts are on practical matters such as food, lights, and arming himself with a rifle; Barbra’s distressed state aggravates him, but he keeps his cool and puts her to work helping to secure the house against further attacks to await rescue. Eloquent, intelligent, and charismatic, Ben hides his fear and confusion behind productive tasks and narrating his observations and the horrors he’s seen aloud, something he’s forced to do since Barbra too shocked to be much conversation. When Barbra descends into hysteria, so desperate to save Johnny that she almost runs out into further danger, Ben’s forced to physically subdue her to keep her calm, allowing him to finish fortifying the house and glean insight into the crisis from a radio broadcast.

Tensions rise between the survivors, who are faced with a clash of ego and the undead.

Considering it takes Ben some time (presumably a couple of hours) to finish fortifying the house, it comes as a surprise to both them and the audience when other survivors emerge from the cellar. Naturally, Ben is incensed to learn that Harry, his wife and daughter, Helen (Eastman) and Karen (Schon), and lovers Tom (Keith Wayne) and Judy (Judith Ridley), chose to hide rather than investigate the screaming and commotion. Ben’s natural instinct is to help people, no matter the danger, whereas Harry reasoned it wasn’t worth risking their lives and their safety helping others. Having witnessed the strength and tenacity of the ghouls, Harry is adamant that they’re all safer in the cellar, regardless of the fortifications, and both make valid arguments since the cellar allows them to better fend off attacks, but the house gives them a fighting chance and more escape routes. Tom does his best to play peacekeeper, but Harry stubbornly refuses to listen to reason, primarily due to fear, his shame at feeling said fear, and a deep-seated need to protect his family. Although the ghouls briefly breaking through the windows seems to prove Harry’s point, he’s aggrieved when Ben refuses to share any of the upstairs food or resources; it seems Harry wants it both ways, but Ben firmly draws a line and delivers a stern ultimatum: “You can be the boss down there. I’m boss up here”, enraging the overprotective and stubborn father. Taking his chances upstairs, Tom has the anxious and caring Judy join them while Harry barricades himself and his family downstairs out of a pig-headed fixation on being “right”. Weary of his bullish ways, Helen echoes Ben’s remarks about Harry’s shortsightedness, which cuts them and their sick daughter off from information and potential rescue. Like Tom, she emphasises co-operation and compromise, allowing them to trade places with Judy to learn more about the crisis, though he continues to rile Ben up with his antagonistic and cynical attitude. Helen is encouraged by news of rescue centres nearby and Ben devises a plan to hold off the ghouls with flaming torches so they can refuel his truck and get medical help for Karen, but the plan goes horribly awry, resulting in Tom and Judy’s fiery deaths, and Ben unloads his rage onto Harry when he refuses to let him back into the house, leading to the two tussling for the rifle.

Night established and popularised many of the characteristics of zombie media.

In their first appearance, Romero’s living dead are noticeably different to what we’d see in his sequels and subsequent zombie media. The first thing to note, of course, is that the living dead are never referred to as “zombies”; this term would be as fastidiously avoided and mocked as Romero’s opinions on running zombie variants, meaning the living dead have more in common with Matheson’s interpretation of vampires than the brain-devouring zombie of mainstream imagination. Consequently, the living dead are referred to as anything but zombies; described as “ghouls”, “things”, “them”, and “assassins”, the living dead are also noticeably less gruesome than in later movies, potentially because the zombie outbreak is so recent and the undead so freshly turned. Similarly, Romero avoids explaining the sudden return of the living dead; a news report speculates radiation from an exploding space probe, but divine will is also implied (Johnny mocks Barbra’s prayer and admits to no longer attending church, and is the first to die). The zombie outbreak is treated as a sudden and confusing attack, almost like an epidemic; at first, characters ignore or mock the signs but they’re soon relying on radio broadcasts for scant information and how to combat the voracious ghouls. Night of the Living Dead establishes the basic rules of the undead: for whatever reason, the recently-deceased return in a near-mindless state, driven only by the need to consume human flesh. Rather than infecting people, their bites simply expedite the deaths of their victims; because of radiation from the Venus prove, anyone who dies will then reanimate with a taste for murder and cannibalism. Though slow and shambling and driven back by fire, the ghouls are incredibly persistent and dangerous in large groups; they can only be permanently put down with a blow to the head, destroying their brain, or removing the head entirely, and people are encouraged to forgo proper funeral procedures and immolate the corpses as soon as possible. Unlike most iterations of zombies, however, the ghouls are decidedly less monstrous here; many are more like entranced slaves or crazed maniacs, meaning they can use tools or rocks where brute strength fails and young Karen even uses a trowel to stab her mother to death rather than going for the jugular as you might expect.

The Nitty-Gritty:
There’s a certain classic charm to revisiting the old black and white horrors of yesteryear; everything has a distinctly old-timey and almost gothic atmosphere, which is only extenuated by the greyscale visuals. Yes, it does make some of the night-time action difficult to make out and it’s not for everyone, but I always appreciate this era of cinema as it evokes feelings of nostalgia and appreciation for these filmmakers, who did the best they could on a limited budget and with the technology of the time and, in many cases, pioneered filmmaking effects that we still see in cinema to this day. Even in this first tentative outing for the living dead, Romero positions the ghouls as social commentary; their mindless, savage, almost primal nature explicitly reflects the dichotomy between the survivors, particularly Ben and Harry, who constantly butt heads. There’s a startling message related to this through the simple depiction of the ghouls co-existing and even working together, despite being incapable of communication, to problem solve and better devour their prey; in contrast, the survivors are equally unable to communicate due to fear, tension, and ego and absolutely incapable of working together for these same reasons. It’s these emotional responses that see other survivors uniting against their monstrous foes as a paranoid, trigger-happy mob that’s as inhuman as the ghouls they target, creating a thematic parallel that begs the question who the real monsters are, us or “them”? Naturally, you can read into this even further thanks to Ben being a Black man; though the most level-headed and practical, he’s met with suspicion (even from Barbra, initially) and hostility, which opens itself up to racial prejudice due to his skin colour and Harry’s overly aggressive demeanour, and the ghouls are also framed as being this unknowable threat not unlike  foreign invader that “normal” folk struggle to understand and fight back against with extreme prejudice.

Despite surviving the horrifying night, Ben is callously shot dead as humanity blindly fights back.

Although Johnny’s death is disappointingly lame and bloodless, the suddenness and brutality of is where the true horror lies; still, Night of the Living Dead contains a fair amount of gore, including a partially mangled (presumably eaten) corpse in the farmhouse, some rudimentary decomposition effects, a surprising amount of flaming bodes, and sickening scenes of ghouls feasting on Tom and Judy’s entrails and chargrilled flesh. Still, Night of the Living Dead focuses more on tension and both internal and external threats. Although Harry covers their exit with Molotov cocktails, he takes advantage of the situation to claim dominion over the entire house. Unsurprisingly, given they’ve been measuring dicks the entire time, Ben fights him for control of the only gun, resulting in Harry being fatally shot due to his hubris. Having succumbed to her injuries, Karen reanimates and feasts on her father’s body before stabbing her mother to death. As she and the other ghouls close in, Barbra finally snaps out of her stupor, only to be dragged into the writhing masses by Johnny, and this irony is quickly followed by Ben, the sole survivor, being forced to take refuge in the cellar when his barricades fail. After putting down the reanimated Harry (which seems as much out of spite as it for survival) and Helen, Ben waits it out and survives the night; since the ghouls go down pretty easily when you have the right weapons, the danger seems to be mostly contained by the authorities and gun-toting locals, who pick the living dead off with ease. When they come to dispatch the ghouls near the farmhouse, Ben emerges from the cellar, attracted to the gunfire, but his caution proves his undoing; since he’s skulking around in the darkness, he’s mistaken for a ghoul and promptly executed on the spot. As the credits play, his body (and those of all the characters, ghouls and human alike) is dispassionately dumped onto a bonfire and burned in one of the bleakest endings in all of horror cinema.

The Summary:
There’s a reason Night of the Living Dead is considered a horror classic and the forefather of zombie media. A low-budget affair that made the most of its resources, the film is a bleak mediation on humanity; simple ideas such as co-operating, coming together in a crisis, and working together to overcome an aggressive foe are present and resonate even to this day, where we’re more likely to turn against each other than set aside our differences. Although not as explicit as in his later movies, the ghouls are clearly utilised as an allegory for these matters, and various others; the fear and inevitability of death, the danger of the unknown, the savage nature of man are all valid readings of Night of the Living Dead.  It’s also incredibly progressive in terms of Black representation; Ben is a keen, intelligent, and proactive survivor haunted by what he’s seen but determined to help others and make a fighting stand until rescue comes. While he can be as abrasive as Harry, his stubborn demeanour comes from a place of logic and reason and he’s constantly trying to increase their chances of survival, only to be met with pig-headed resistance. Harry might be an asshole, but you can see where he’s coming from; he’s scared and wants to protect his family, even if it means sacrificing others. Sadly, Helen (and women in general) don’t fare quite as well; portrayed as meek and generally useless, women just kind of get in the way or are oppressed and bossed about rather than contributing anything meaningful, though this does allow discussions about gender equality and machismo. Night of the Living Dead also established many of the “rules” for zombie cinema; although its ghouls aren’t as monstrous as later zombies and are more like entranced slaves, there’s a mystery and a danger to them when they gather in large numbers against vulnerable victims. However, it’s true that the film hasn’t aged very well; the performances and some themes are questionable, and there have been better zombie movies made since (by Romero himself, no less) that both overshadow this one and expose its flaws, though it remains recommended viewing for any fans of the genre, for sure,

My Rating:

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Pretty Good

Do you consider Night of the Living Dead a classic of the genre? Were you surprised to see a Black man take such a proactive role? What did you think to the tension and rivalry between Ben and Harry? How did you interpret the ghouls and what did you think to their characterisation here? What do you think caused the zombie outbreak and how do you think you would react in such a scenario? What is your favourite zombie film and what do you think of the genre in general? How are you celebrating the Day of the Dead today? Whatever your thoughts on Night of the Living Dead, and zombie films in general, feel free to leave a comment below or leave your thoughts on my social media, and check out my other zombie content across the site.

Movie Night [Halloween]: Halloween III: Season of the Witch

Dr. K4 Comments

Starting life as the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, when people would light bonfires and wear costumes to ward off ghosts, Halloween is largely associated not just with ghosts, ghouls, and confectionery but also a long-running series of horror movies. Beginning with John Carpenter’s Halloween (Carpenter, 1978), the franchise is largely credited with birthing the “slasher” sub-genre of horror films and has endured numerous remakes and reboots and is one of the most influential films in all of horror.

Released: 22 October 1982
Director: Tommy Lee Wallace
Distributor: Universal Pictures
Budget: $2.5 million
Stars: Tom Atkins, Stacey Nelkin, Brad Schacter, Dick Warlock, and Dan O’Herlihy

The Plot:
Doctor Dan Challis (Atkins) and Ellie Grimbridge (Nelkin), the daughter of a murder victim, uncover a terrible plot by small-town mask maker Conal Cochran (O’Herlihy) to mass murder of children on Halloween using an ancient Celtic ritual and a triggering device contained in a television commercial.

The Background:
Despite critics largely dismissing it at the time, John Carpenter’s Halloween’s box office gross of over $63 million against a paltry $300,000 to 325,000 budget made it one of the most successful independent films ever made. The film not only popularised the clichés of the slasher genre, but is also now regarded as one of the most influential movies of its genre, all of which meant that a sequel was all-but-inevitable. Writer/director John Carpenter wasn’t enthusiastic about this, or his final script, but (despite the usual critical mauling), Halloween II (Rosenthal, 1981) was a box office success, so the studio pushed for a third entry. Carpenter and his producer partner Debra Hill only agreed to deliver another film if it went in a different direction, one that didn’t focus on the iconic Michael Myers/The Shape (Various). They, and director Tommy Lee Wallace, instead wanted to create a horror anthology movie series, with yearly films focusing on different aspects of the season and this one drawing inspiration from the sci-fi classic, Invasion of the Body Snatchers (Siegel, 1956). The film’s creepy Halloween masks were created by special effects guru Don Post out of latex and the cast was comprised of character actors and former Carpenter collaborators (though veteran actor Dan O’Herlihy later admitted that he didn’t think much to the film), and Wallace later stated that he enjoyed the entire experience and was disheartened by the film’s negative response. Indeed, Halloween III: Season of the Witch brought in just $14 million at the box office and was met with largely negative reviews; critics disliked the execution, the nonsensical plot, and the ludicrous antagonists, with Michael’s absence being particularly noted for many. Although some regard the film as an under-rated horror classic, Carpenter’s experiment didn’t pay off and the decision was made to bring Michael back some six years later, and he’s been the star of the franchise ever since.

The Review:
This one’s a tough one for me. Unlike, say, the Friday the 13th series (Various, 1980 to present), which potentially could’ve lived on (at least for a film or two) with other killers donning the iconic hockey mask of Jason Voorhees (Various), I’m not entirely certain if Halloween was meant to involve anyone or anything other than Michael Myers. I think maybe if the second film hadn’t been a direct sequel then this anthology format might’ve had more legs, but it feels weird to do two Myers-centric movies and then suddenly veer into anthology territory. Honestly, more than anything I’m surprised it got made at all; the idea of producing a horror sequel without its main villain and with no ties to the previous movies seems unusual today but even more so back in the eighties, when horror franchises were churning out yearly films featuring their popular slasher villains. Although Myers was very clearly and definitively killed off in Halloween II, it took the bare minimum of handwaving to explain his return in subsequent films, and I’m genuinely baffled that the producers didn’t simply accelerate that logic for a Carpenter-less third movie and produce this film as a separate endeavour, but clearly it was an attempt to cash-in on Halloween’s success and placate John Carpenter, because why wouldn’t you want him around? The film begins in October, some eight days before Halloween, and finds shop owner Harry Grimbridge (Al Berry) pursued by mysterious, stoic men in suits. Exhausted, hurt, and clutching one of Silver Shamrock’s coveted Halloween masks, he’s barely able to escape and is taken to a hospital, where he’s placed under the care of Dr. Challis.

Dr. Challis and Ellie investigate the mysterious Silver Shamrock company and stumble upon a mad plot!

As if being consumed by a demanding and stressful job wasn’t bad enough, Dan’s relationship with his ex-wife, Linda (Nancy Kyes), is further strained by him being a borderline alcoholic. His attempts to be a good and doting father are admirable, but he’s constantly one step behind; he brings his kids, Bella (Michelle Walker) and Willie (Joshua Miller), Halloween masks but they already have two of the Silver Shamrock ones and he’s constantly being called back to work. Dan’s attempts to treat Harry are made more difficult by his ranting, which nobody notices is triggered by the Silver Shamrock commercials, and the arrival of one of the men in black, who cracks his skull through the eye sockets! For a doctor, Dan sure does enjoy extracurricular activities; while his flirtations towards Nurse Agnes (Maidie Norman) seem to all be in good fun and appreciated, it’s still inappropriate behaviour in the workplace and he seems very friendly with the assistant coroner, Teddy (Wendy Wessberg), which leads me to believe that his marriage broke down due to him being unfaithful. Indeed, after Harry is murdered and his killer immolates himself, all it takes is one look at Harry’s daughter, Ellie (Nelkin), and Dan abandons his patients and responsibilities and travels to the Silver Shamrock factory in Santa Mira, California to investigate further. Ellie is absolutely heartbroken and incensed at her father’s random and vicious murder; after spotting Dan at the funeral, Ellie tracks him down to find out more and he reluctantly reveals that Harry was paranoid that he was going to be killed. She takes him to her father’s store and shares her research into her father’s records, which points them towards Santa Mira, and Dan’s so moved by her plight that he passes up seeing his kids (much to Linda’s fury) to join her. She’s surprisingly happy to share a bed with him without much coercing (it must be the moustache because he looks old enough to be her father!…unless that’s what she’s into…) and to masquerade as potential customers to get a tour of Cochran’s factory, which is like something out of Roald Dahl. While she has a fair amount of spunk and is determined to get to the bottom of her father’s death, there’s not much to Ellie; she’s certainly not shy about her sexuality but, despite claiming to be “older than she looks”, she’s still prone to emotional outbursts and is thus easily captured by Cochran’s men, disappearing for a big chunk of the film and returning simply to be a pretty hostage for our surprisingly gung-ho male protagonist to rescue.

Despite his friendly persona, Cochran employs killer androids and plans to murder countless children!

Silver Shamrock made its fortune manufacturing toys; with Halloween fast approaching, they’ve embarked on an aggressive and aggravating marketing campaign for their special Halloween masks, which all the kids are dying to get their hands on. The company is headed by Irish entrepreneur Cochran, whose factory and business brings prosperity to Santa Mira; played with an alluring glee by expert villain Dan O’Herlihy, Cochran is a magnetic and generous old man who takes great pride in his work, his attention to detail, and the prosperity he’s brought to Santa Mira. Although he brought in his own workers from overseas and much of the town is made up of his fellow Irishmen, hardly anything happens in town without his say-so or involvement and he’s extremely eager to please his customers and investors with accolades and generosity. However, while he appears a friendly and courteous old man, Cochran hides a dark secret within his factory walls and, thanks to O’Herlihy’s presence, is constantly shrouded in a sinister cloud. Many of his workforce are mute, relentless android assassins who carry out his every whim without question; garbed in suits and pursuing their targets relentlessly, they are superhumanly strong, capable of gouging out eyes, ripping off heads, and enduring a great deal of punishment. In many ways, their silent implacability conjures memories of Michael Myers (fitting since the head android was played by the Shape himself, Dick Warlock), but even these unsettling minions are just a fraction of Cochran’s true intent. It turns out that his masks contain a special microchip that gruesomely kills whoever is wearing them and causes writhing snakes and bugs to burst from their heads!  This is all part of his insidious plot to evoke an ancient pagan ritual from his native Celtic lands of sacrificing children during the time of Samhain, a plot that requires a chunk of Stonehenge which he was somehow able to steal and transport to the United States without being detected!

The Nitty-Gritty:
You can tell that Halloween III is going for something completely different right away; gone is the haunting, atmospheric “Halloween” theme and unsettling pumpkin in the credits, replaced by an ominous synth theme courtesy of John Carpenter and Alan Howarth, basic credit text, and a decidedly eighties computer-generated credit sequence that merges the themes of Halloween and technology (specifically evoking the pixelated aesthetic of television and computer screens). The film also goes out of its way to make it clear that its events aren’t set in the same continuity as the previous films since a trailer for Halloween plays on a television at one point. However, while the score is fitting for what basically amounts to a techno/horror piece and evokes memories of John Carpenter’s The Thing (Carpenter, 1982) and The Terminator (Cameron, 1984), your days will be tormented forever more by the incessant Silver Shamrock jingle, which cheerily counts down the days until Halloween to the tune of “London Bridge is Falling Down”. The intention is pretty obvious, to capture kids’ attention with dancing images, a memorable song, and encourage them to buy the masks and it’s pretty evocative of the aggressive and shameless marketing campaigns of toys and videogames over the years, but the subtext is quite clever as well: it can’t be a coincidence or just a financial decision that “London Bridge is Falling Down” is used as the base tune since Cochran’s ultimate plan is the cause widespread death and destruction, after all.

Some gory scenes and bizarre events help make the film a little more memorable, as weird as they are.

If there’s one thing Halloween III has going for it, it’s a somewhat decent sense of atmosphere; when Dan and Ellie roll into Santa Mira, they’re met with suspicion and intrigue by the townsfolk since. For the most part, the film is a bit of a murder-mystery tale, with Dan and Ellie posing as a couple and trying to find out more about the company and investigating the strange town with its many surveillance cameras and even a curfew (which doesn’t stop Dan going out at night to an open liquor store, making you wonder why there’s a curfew in the first place…), and Dan proves to be quite the sleuth. Of course, his habitual lying and infidelity goes a long way to helping with his subterfuge; Linda is so fed up of his constant excuses and lies that she offers little support or compassion when he’s rattled by the deaths at the hospital and he gets so into his little charade with Ellie that it’s not long (barely a day) before they’re getting it on in their motel room. While they suspect that there’s more going on behind Silver Shamrock’s walls, they could never have guessed the truth but we get to see it in gory detail as one of Cochran’s androids trips the head off a hobo (Jon Terry) for daring to disparage the company’s name. Disgruntled buyer Marge Guttman (Garn Stephens) also indirectly feels Cochran’s wrath after she fiddles around with a mask and gets a mouthful of laser due to a “misfire” that leaves her a mutilated husk for creepy-crawlies to wriggle out of! After Ellie is kidnapped by Cochran’s androids, Dan is fights one off, punching right through its stomach and rendering it immobile, but the realisation that Cochran utilises life-like machines leaves him shellshocked and he’s easily apprehended by the toymaker. Instead of killing the nosy doctor, Cochran decides it’s far better to take him into the hidden laboratory beneath his toy factory and to explain his master plan in minute detail (well, except for explaining how the fuck he got that chunk of Stonehenge there, which he simply laughs off).

Although Dr. Challis destroys Cochran’s operation, it’s left ambiguous whether he stopped his evil scheme…

Fascinated and enamoured by the power of even a fragment of the ancient rock, Cochran delights in showing off exactly what his masks can do by forcing Dan to watch as his best seller and his family (Ralph Strait, Jadeen Barbor, and Brad Schacter) are subjected to the final Silver Shamrock commercial, which sucks the life out of the boy and sees him torn apart by bugs and snakes, which then attack his family. As kids all over the country eagerly await the “big giveaway” at nine, and Teddy is murdered via a drill to the head by one of Cochran’s androids (a scene that might’ve worked better if it had come earlier in the film before we knew for sure that they were androids…), Cochran straps Dan to a chair, fits him with a mask, and explains his motives: not only does he think it’s a lark, but he’s disgusted that people have forgotten Halloween’s roots and relishes bringing back the old ways of ritual sacrifice. With little more than an hour and ten minutes to go, Dan cuts himself free without much effort and escapes using a conveniently oversized ventilation shaft. His caricature of John McClane (Bruce Willis) continues as he sneaks across the factory roof and through the warehouse to rescue Ellie (…her door wasn’t even locked…) and he even reaches the control panel, figures out its controls, and activates the Silver Shamrock commercial without being spotted! He then dumps a load of the microchips over Cochran’s androids and equipment, shorting them both out and sending everything haywire, earning him a little appreciative applause from Cochran before he’s zapped by the rock. Fleeing from the horrendously rendered factory explosion, Dan races to interrupt the commercial, only to be attacked by Ellie, who turns out to be a robot duplicate (or…maybe she was a robot all along? Who even knows at this point!) Luckily, he avoids having his head ripped off and beheads her with a tyre iron, but we’ll never know if he succeeded in shutting off all the deadly commercials since the film dramatically cuts to the credits right as he’s desperately screaming at the television network to cut the feed…

The Summary:
I think everyone can agree that Halloween III: Season of the Witch is a bit of an anomaly; not only does it not include or even have anything to do with Michael Myers or the previous two films, it doesn’t even have anything to do with a witch beyond a brief reference to the pagan rituals of Samhain. I’d wager that this film is known for two things: not including the franchise’s masked killer and its surprisingly bleak ending, and only one of those points actually works in its favour. An altogether bizarre film from start to finish that awkwardly blends together technology and the supernatural, I think Halloween III was maybe trying a little too hard to be something different. Cochran’s plot might’ve been easy to swallow if it had fallen into one side or the other but having these lifelike android assassins existing alongside a magical piece of Stonehenge that he was…somehow…able to turn into killer microchips that spawn insects from Halloween masks and leave countless children dead is all very hodgepodge and none of it really feels like it fits together. It’s like the film was two scripts that got jumbled up and, while I applaud the attempt to try something different, the bleak ending, and the dark, sinister undertones (it’s rare that even horror films kill kids, after all), the final execution is quite sloppy. Tom Atkins does a decent job but he’s not much of a leading man; the visual of this middle-aged, womanising alcoholic being our unlikely protagonist doesn’t inspire much confidence, though I did enjoy his investigation into Silver Shamrock and his wife constantly admonishing him for being a lying, selfish asshole. Dan O’Herlihy’s captivating, menacing screen presence and some deliciously gory death scenes help this film limp along towards its memorably grim ending but, overall, you can easily skip this one in favour of any other horror film and have a far better time. I do believe that there was some potential in a Halloween anthology series, but the third film wasn’t the time to do that and this concept certainly wasn’t capable of matching its predecessors; I’d also wager that if this film didn’t have “Halloween” in its title then no one would have ever seen it and it’d be lost to the mists of time, which really tells you everything you need to know about this misfire of a movie.

My Rating:

Rating: 2 out of 5.

Could Be Better

Are you a fan of Halloween III : Season of the Witch? What did you think to the attempt to take the series in a new direction with an unrelated story? How clued up are you on Samhain and the pagan origins of the season? Did you enjoy the mystery element of the film and the gory kills? What did you think to Cochran’s plan and his execution? Were you a fan of the sudden, potentially bleak ending and do you think Dan was able to interrupt the broadcast? How are you celebrating Halloween this year? Whatever your thoughts on Halloween, and the Halloween franchise, drop a comment below, or leave a comment on my social media, and have a spook-tacular Halloween!

Movie Night: The Crow: City of Angels

Dr. K7 Comments

Released: 30 August 1996
Director: Tim Pope
Distributor: Miramax Films
Budget: $13 million (estimated)
Stars: Vincent Pérez, Mia Kirshner, Richard Brooks, Thuy Trang, Iggy Pop, Thomas Jane, and Eric Acosta

The Plot:
Mechanic Ashe Corven (Pérez) and his young son, Danny (Acosta), are brutally murdered by zealot Judah Earl (Brooks) and his thugs. After being resurrected by a mysterious and supernatural crow, Ashe is guided by the aloof Sarah Mohr (Kirshner) and assumes the guise of a tragic clown to avenge his loss using his newfound superhuman abilities.

The Background:
Beginning as a comic book published by Caliber Comics in 1989, The Crow was the brainchild of James O’Barr. The main character, named simply “Eric”, was modelled after prominent rock musicians and brutally slayed those who killed him and his fiancée as a reaction to the pain and loss O’Barr felt after losing his own fiancée. The Crow became an underground success and, since dark comic book narratives were becoming popular in Hollywood, transitioned into a critically and commercially successful film adaptation despite the accidentally on-set death of star Brandon Lee. While The Crow (Proyas, 1994) is regarded by many as a cult hit, the same accolades can’t be said about its sequel, which came as a direct response to the financial success of the first film. Initially, director Tim Pope and writer David S. Goyer planned to take the sequel in a different direction to avoid copying or emulating the original movie. They pitched having Sarah become a female Crow (a concept later explored in the comic books) or setting the story in the 19th century before ultimately settling on another tale of urban vengeance. It was the producers, however, who most directly engineered the film to be more of a carbon copy of the first, dramatically cutting down Pope’s original 160-minute cut into a jumbled mess of muddy visuals and confusing plot points. Despite the popularity of the first film, The Crow: City of Angels failed to recapture the magic of its predecessor; it barely grossed over $25 million at the box office and has been met with scathing criticism for its awful execution, lacklustre lead actor, and woeful narrative and pacing. Despite this, Miramax continued producing Crow movies and spin-offs, and some have even argued that The Crow: City of Angels is an under-rated entry in the franchise. Spoiler alert: I am not one of them but, as The Crow is one of my favourite movies and tonight is “Devil’s Night”, I figured this would be a good opportunity to look back on this shambles of a film and see how it holds up.

The Review:
I’ve been a huge fan of The Crow ever since I was a kid and randomly stumbled upon it on one of our many VHS tapes; it took me a little while to be equally impressed with the bleak and harrowing comic book, but the film had a huge impact on me at a time when I was really getting into dark and gritty comic book comics, stories, and anti-heroes. While the story didn’t really lend itself to a sequel since everything was wrapped up nicely in the film and it seemed very self-contained, the concept leaves plenty of wriggle room for other avatars to be resurrected and seek justice (or revenge, depending on your perspective) for the wrongs they suffered in death. It’s not as if it should really be all that difficult, either; there was plenty of material in James O’Barr’s comic that hadn’t been used in the first film, or was left on the cutting room floor, that could’ve been worked into a new movie, or a reboot. In this regard, I’m okay with new actors taking on the iconic role as the Crow’s very nature allows legacy characters, and I can understand the studio wanting to try and emulate the look, feel, and narrative of the first film, and there’s even some interesting new wrinkles in the lore and concept of The Crow: City of Angels, but the final product and overall execution is lacking in almost every regard beyond the soundtrack and the general moodiness of the film. The first and biggest problem is the lead himself; while I had the faintest idea of who Brandon Lee was prior to The Crow thanks to a vague familiarity (at the time) with the legendary Bruce Lee, I have no idea who Vincent Pérez is and, frankly, still don’t. I have no idea why he, of all people, was cast in such an iconic role; it’d be hard for any actor to fill Lee’s shoes, especially after the tragedy he suffered during filming, but Pérez is incapable of matching Lee’s tortured, charismatic performance and comes across as a pale imitation in his attempts to channel the same mixture of grief, anger, and morose conviction of his predecessor.

Reborn from a violent death, Ashe embarks on a mission of vengeance with a manic theatricality.

Ashe is quite a different character to Eric Draven; rather than being a loved-up rockstar, he’s a mechanic and a single father living in Los Angeles, here rendered as a bleak, gritty, crime-infested hellhole swamped with drugs and rampant violence thanks to the fanatical Judah Earl. Though there are few places free from Judah’s influence; Ashe lived a simple, quiet life near the pier with his beloved son, Danny, but the two were brutally tortured and executed by Judah’s maniacal followers, primarily Kali (Trang) and “Curve” (Pop), after accidentally witnessing them murdering another drug dealer. Some time later (in the first film it was a year; here, we don’t really know, but it can’t be that long as Ashe’s garage/home is largely untouched since his death), the mysterious and semi-supernatural crow brings Ashe back from his watery grave to seek vengeance but, whereas the crow guided Eric and assisted in his similar quest, Ashe is primarily aided by Sarah Mohr (Kirshner), who is all grown up from the last film and working as a melancholic tattoo artist. While Eric rose in a state of confusion, he became committed to his cause after the crow helped him relive his traumatic death; Ashe similarly reawakens confused and disorientated, but is overwhelmed by his situation, as related by Sarah, and reacts with denial and hostility before reluctantly accepting that he’s now an undead spirit of vengeance after being bombarded with memories. Sarah uses Danny’s paints to make Ashe into an imitation of her former friend (even his make-up is a poor facsimile of Eric’s, however, with the white barely visible in the film’s poor lighting and the black only going around his lips rather than covering them) and he throws on a bad-ass trench coat, hops on an equally bad-ass motorcycle, and heads into the misty and filth-ridden streets to track down his killers. Thanks to the crow, Ashe is led to “Spider Monkey” (Vincent Castellanos), where he showcases his dramatic flair, performing sleight of hand and card tricks while toying with his prey, while also exhibiting just how corny and bad Pérez’s acting and line delivery is. This becomes a common theme, with his weird screaming, cackling countenance, odd appropriation of the “One for sorrow” nursery rhyme to now include crows, and desperate attempts to appear menacing only serving to make him appear unhinged. Whereas Eric somewhat revelled in the virtual invincibility and superhuman abilities afforded to him, Ashe wallows in the constant cycle of pain and healing his body goes through when he’s hurt (which, to be fair, is somewhat similar to the comic book Eric) and fluctuates between being violently, maniacally unbalanced when facing his killers, and miserable and brooding when with Sarah or contemplating his newfound afterlife.

Though seeking revenge for his son’s death, this new Crow is tempted to stay behind with Sarah.

While this is reminiscent of his predecessor, Ashe comes off as far gloomier and sullener than Eric, and it’s not like he makes up for it with any decent fight scenes. The few he does have are brief, poorly shot, and completely one-sided in his favour until the end, and we’re even denied decent shoot outs this time around as Ashe largely forgoes firearms (except for when hunting Curve), though he does evoke the crow imagery by stuffing a paper crow into “Nemo’s” (Thomas Jane) mouth, forming Kali’s blood into a crow upon her death, and leaving Curve surrounded by a crow outline of petals. Naturally, Ashe isn’t just out to avenge his death, but is primarily driven to avenge the brutal murder of his son; this causes him the most pain, as Danny was just an innocent, wide-eyed kid (a stupid one, but an innocent one nonetheless) and reliving his murder causes grief and rage to wrack Ashe’s body and, in many ways, makes his plight far worse than Eric’s but this tragedy really belongs in a better movie (or in the hands of a better actor). He goes out of his way to retrieve Danny’s corpse and give him a proper burial and is even visited by Danny’s spirt when he starts to lose his way. This wrinkle is added because, for whatever reason, Ashe develops a strong attraction to Sarah; surprising, as the two have very little chemistry and, while she seems fascinated to see another reborn by the crow and is sympathetic to him, I never got any romantic feelings from her. A snappy, somewhat feisty goth girl who partially narrates the film and has a familial bond with her boss, Noah (Ian Dury), Sarah’s influence over Ashe becomes so strong that he considers staying behind with her. This is juxtaposed by the Day of the Dead festival that’s being celebrated in the city, and through a conversation with a priest (Reynaldo Duran), who tells Ashe that wandering souls can get lost, believing themselves to be alive, and need guidance to achieve eternal rest. Honestly, the idea of a Crow wandering the Earth with no memory of how or why they got there is a fascinating one, and one I believe was strongly emphasised in the original cut of the film, where Ashe decides to stay behind rather than join his son, and Sarah, in death.

Some terrible performances stunt whatever menace Judah and his followers are meant to have.

Of course, this plot is barely notable in the finished film and is used more as motivation to keep Ashe fighting and help him overcome the loss of his powers, courtesy of Judah Earl. I hate to keep making comparisons, but Judah Earl is no Top Dollar (Michael Wincott); he exudes a decent menace and is a reprehensible and zealous figure in his own right, but Richard Brooks’ performance is all over the place as well, ranging from stoic and gravelly to over the top theatre as he proudly proclaims: “I’m your shadow, Ashe! […] I’ve tasted the blood of the crow and taken your power!” Like Top Dollar, Judah Earl is surrounded by a gaggle of cackling, shit-kicking underlings, none of which have any of the personality (however one-note and despicable) of Top Dollar’s and most of whom are constantly out of their minds on Judah’s tainted crack to be little ore than a knock-off combination of Skank (Angel David) and Funboy (Michael Massee). The most notable exceptions, beyond Nemo’s eccentricities, are Kali and Curve. Kali is a sadistic bitch who takes great pleasure in mocking and killing Danny; she also exhibits some martial arts prowess, giving Ashe his first real physical competition, and is one of three characters who I actually enjoyed seeing offed due to her aggravating nature. The other was Curve, played with manic abandon by rock icon Iggy Pop; I’m no fan of Iggy Pop’s music, or his acting, however, and Curve comes across as completely off his rocker, constantly raging about a tattoo Sarah gave him and assaulting the senses with his weird line delivery and atrocious acting (his “Do you think I’m afrai-i-id?” spiel is probably the worst performance I’ve ever seen). While Top Dollar seemed to have his hands in everything and was more about anarchy, Judah’s deal is drugs; he swamps the city with the stuff and has little concern over how badly his merchandise affects people. Once a product of the streets, Judah has taken to spending his time in his penthouse surrounded by the macabre and supernatural, and conveniently has a blind seer on hand Sybil (Tracey Ellis) to fill him (and us) in on the nature of the crow and how harming or killing it can hurt Ashe and render him mortal. Judah Earl takes this one step further, however, and drinks the crow’s blood to become “The Shadow”, a dark version of Ashe who gains all of his supernatural abilities for their final climatic showdown in the streets.

The Nitty-Gritty:
It’s so interesting and weird to think about the Crow franchise; the premise is incredibly simple and shouldn’t really be that hard to make a gritty, gothic, somewhat low budget film that’s a mixture of action, horror, and romance. It turns out, however, that The Crow was lightning in a bottle; not only did everything about its presentation work exceptionally well, but its reputation was bolstered by Brandon Lee’s tragic death, which has elevated the film above whatever shortcomings it might have to make it a monument to a young actor cut down in his prime. In that regard, you could argue that it didn’t make sense to follow it up, especially so soon after, but to do so with this knock-off, poor quality effort is a real insult to both Lee and O’Barr and comes across as a poor man’s attempt to recapture the magic. While the soundtrack is still pretty strong thanks to Graeme Revell’s haunting score (even if it is basically the same as last time) and some notable names, like White Zombie and Deftones, contributing to the film, the quality of acting takes a dramatic nosedive. Rather than a strong assortment of character actors and charismatic performers, The Crow: City of Angels features a bunch of one-dimensional, underdeveloped scumbags or aggravating performances from people who never should’ve been cast in the first place or actors who had yet to really hit their stride in their art.

Whatever visual appeal this film may have is lost beneath a muddy filter and poor special effects.

Easily the worst aspect of The Crow: City of Angels, though, is the presentation; this was legitimately the first film I’ve ever watched where I’ve criticised the direction and cinematography, and the look and feel of this film is a far cry from the harsh, rugged streets seen in the first film, which was almost a noir thriller in its aesthetic. The sequel swamps every scene in this grimy, mustard-yellow glare; mist and smoke covers everything, making the city appear to be either a poorly-constructed miniature or obscuring sets and real-world locations, and everything looks cheap and rushed, as though the filmmakers were trying to cover their inadequacies with this ugly, choking fog. Honestly, it looks like a homemade movie filmed on a soundstage or in a back garden, it’s that bad and, while the city occasionally seems like one of the worst places you can ever imagine, with its seedy underworld, sex clubs, and bars and such, everything just seems more fake and staged compared to the first movie, and this carries through to the action scenes. Sure, Ashe looks awesome cutting through the fog on his motorcycle, but he gets none of the rooftop-running action of Eric and doesn’t really acquit himself well in fight scenes. More often than not, Ashe simply slaps around and scuffles with his victim rather than threatening them with Poe or mutilating his body to intimidate his opponents, and the only physical challenge he’s presented with comes from Kali, whom he easily dashes out a window thanks to his invulnerability. Otherwise, Ashe’s mission of vengeance is an absolute mess of murky visuals, jerky camera moments, and awful acting; Pérez desperately tries to come off as intimidating when confronting Spider-Monkey but it’s a poor effort made worse by some dodgy CGI effects, and seeing him mock Nemo with a pouting countenance is more disturbing than menacing. Even Ashe’s big fight scene with Kali is ultimately disappointing, being a plodding affair with slow, awkward movements, erratic editing, and some weird contorted body language from Pérez, and his rundown of Curve ends up being a pitiable chase and confrontation thanks to such memorable lines as “Fuck you, bird dick!” and the down-right ugly visual presentation of the film.

Although rendered powerless and unable to save Sarah, Ashe is…somehow…able to destroy Judah Earl.

Fittingly, Ashe’s greatest physical challenge comes in the film’s conclusion; desiring to take the Crow’s power for his own, Judah Earl takes Sarah hostage and, after capturing the crow with a ridiculous amount of ease, has her witness a bizarre ritual where he kills the bird, inflicting Ashe with stigmata for a very on the nose Christ allusion and causing him to plummet from Judah’s high-rise dwelling and be rendered vulnerable. This fulfils Judah’s life-long fascination with death; his stoic demeanour and callous nature isn’t just to try and paint him as a malicious threat, but is because he’s completely numb to the concept of death since he has already experienced, and survived it, before. Having “liked what he saw” in his brief time in Hell, the only pleasure Judah has been able to take since is in the suffering of others, and the power of the crow allows him to indulge this to the fullest extent…however, while much of this is inferred and implied throughout the film, it really only becomes explicit when you know that, apparently, the original script went into greater detail about Judah’s near-death experience as a child. Regardless, thus empowered, Judah (or “The Shadow”, or whatever-the-fuck he’s supposed to be) easily manhandles Ashe, who’s completely helpless against Judah’s superior strength. The cruel zealot takes a sadistic pleasure in stringing Ashe up and lashing him before a raucous crowd but, when he goes to finish him off, Sarah intervenes and takes a knife to the stomach (without him even trying), dying in Ashe’s arms. Spurred on by Danny, who eagerly awaits his return, and enraged at Sarah’s death, Ashe skewers Judah on a piece of scaffold and…somehow…calls up a murder of (presumably) supernatural crows to tear the cruel kingpin into a mess of dodgy CGI. Again, quite how Ashe does this considering he has no powers at this point isn’t explained, nor is it really made clear exactly what the hell’s happening; it’s just another of the many drawbacks to huge chunks of the story being excised from the film, and this is only further reinforced in the rushed and vague ending, which suggests Ashe actually did stay behind rather than what the film is actually going for (which is that he rode off into the fog to be with Danny and, most likely, Sarah).

The Summary:
What happened to Brandon Lee on the set of The Crow was a tragedy. What happened to James O’Barr as a hopeful teenager was a tragedy. The Crow: City of Angels is a tragedy. The whole film is just an ugly, distorted, incoherent mess from start to finish; oh sure, there’s flashes of a somewhat decent sequel here, but everything that’s good about it is based on what worked in the first film and is a mere copy (a shadow, if you will) of it. Rather than taking the formula of its predecessor and expanding upon it, offering more action and bloodshed and more visually interesting fights and kills, The Crow: City of Angels ends up looking like a direct-to-video rush job that completely squanders not only its own premise, but everything that the first movie did so well. The idea of a father returning to enact revenge on those that killed his son is palpable, as is the concept of a crow avatar falling in love with a living female and resisting returning to the grave; hell, even the idea of a sadistic thug stealing the powers of the crow has some merit, but the execution of all of these ideas is ruined by muddy visuals, piss-poor performances, and an absolutely butchered narrative pacing. There’s some cool visuals of the Crow on his motorcycle and dramatically stalking and toying his prey or brooding in the dark, but Vincent Pérez is absolutely terrible here; he does the more melancholic aspects quite well, but his madcap buffoonery, grating accent, and stilted line delivery leave him a charisma-less void, especially compared to his predecessor. Iggy Pop desperately tries to hog every scene but he’s in way over his head here, and I doubt a better script or direction could’ve helped his tone-deaf performance, and Richard Brooks fails to exude any type of menace, even when he’s trying his hardest, thanks to his random descents into mania. Overall, it’s baffling to me that the studio managed to butcher a sequel to The Crow so badly; when its aping the first film, there’s some appeal here, but no one in their right mind would ever choose to watch this over the first movie and it does nothing but leech off of The Crow’s cult appeal in the laziest and most insulting ways possible, leaving us with a patchwork imitation of its predecessor that deserves nothing but scorn and derision.

My Rating:

Rating: 1 out of 5.

Terrible

Am I being too harsh on The Crow: City of Angels? Do you think the film had any chance of living up to the popularity and reputation of its predecessor? What did you think to Vincent Pérez’s performance and Ashe as the new Crow? Did you buy his romance with Sarah, or enjoy his flair for the theatrical? What did you think to Judah Earl and his crew? Did you enjoy the murky, foggy presentation of the film or was it also a struggle to endure? Which of The Crow’s sequels was your favourite, if any, and would you like to see the character return in some form or another in the future? How are you celebrating Devil’s Night tonight? Whatever you think about The Crow: City of Angels, join the discussion below or leave a comment on my social media.