Shocktober Review: Trilogy of Terror

 The Cap'n was a little young for Dark Shadows, so for the most part my only experience with the long running horror soap opera was through reruns on The Sci-Fi Channel (back when it was called that) and maybe USA. It seems like I saw it before The Sci-Fi Channel existed, but I know that it was always in the early afternoon and that I rarely caught every episode in a given week. My experience with it tended to include some member of the Collins family being pulled back in time (the Salem witch trials run stands out in my mind) and then being sidelined / imprisoned so the show could immediately begin telling the soap opera lives of their ancestors, often not involving monsters. It led me to pick up a tape called "The Scariest Moments from Dark Shadows," which was (no joke), a 60 minute compilation of monster reveal scenes with no sense of context whatsoever.

 All of this is to give you some sense of context that the name Dan Curtis doesn't mean to me what it did to a generation younger than the Cap'n. Uber producer and director, on an intellectual level I know he's responsible for Dark Shadows, The Night Stalker and Night Strangler, both House and Night of Dark Shadows movies, and that he adapted Bram Stoker's Dracula with Jack Palance. I know this, and his role as producer and director is well known, if you're just a little bit older than I am. As a result, I've long known Trilogy of Terror, and I'm positive I've seen it, but I'd never associated Curtis with the anthology of stories. Watching it again, it's funny, because he directed the whole thing, cast Karen Black to appear in all three stories (playing four characters), and brought in William F. Nolan (Logan's Run, Burnt Offerings) to adapt three Richard Matheson stories.

 The end result, as anthologies often are, is mixed. While I'm fond of the movie overall, there's no arguing that two of them barely muster "terror." Two of them are kind of conventional stories, one - "Julie" - about a student (Robert Burton) who seduces and later blackmails his teacher (Black), only to find he's in over his head. The other - "Millicent and Therese" is about a pair of sisters (both Black) who are at odds after the death of their father, but is there more to their rivalry than it seems? The final segment - "Amelia" - is probably the most well known, as it features Karen Black at the titular character being stalked by a Zuni fetish doll in her apartment. It easily has the most energy and comes the closest to being suspenseful / terrifying, if sometimes amusing as a result of the noise the doll makes.

 Maybe I give Trilogy of Terror too much grief - we are talking about a made-for-TV horror anthology from 1975. It's not as though it's any more or less tame than an episode of Night Gallery or some (emphasis on "some") of the Amicus films. In order to get more specific, I'll have to venture into SPOILER territory, specifically about "Julie" and "Millicent and Therese." Continue accordingly.

 While I chuckle at the Zuni fetish doll (or, rather, the low-fi way Curtis and company bring it to life), "Amelia" is easily the best segment and the closest that comes to horror. "Julie" is, technically speaking, about a serial killer, although there's a bit of bait and switch about how she "implants" the idea of pursuing a teacher into Chad (Burton)'s head. I honestly thought it was heading in a supernatural direction, but nope, Ms. Eldritch just lures students in, lets them think they're in control, and then murders them when she gets bored. It seems like a horrible idea to have a scrapbook filled with nothing but articles about college students who died under mysterious circumstances, but that's how Curtis, Nolan (and, I guess, Matheson) wanted to end it.

 "Millicent and Therese" is horror / terror in the most tertiary sense - Millicent accuses Therese of using witchcraft and being a demon, and then kills her with voodoo magic. The only problem is that it's abundantly clear that since we never, ever seen them occupy the same space that Millicent IS Therese. Possibly this wasn't as easy to guess forty years ago, but it's not exactly subtle in foreshadowing, and by the time Millicent's doctor (George Gaynes) interacts with both of them (separately), it's easy to figure out the "twist." Split personalities makes for an interesting challenge for Karen Black, but it's hardly terrifying.

 That said, Karen Black is easily the main draw of Trilogy of Terror - in the span of 71 minutes, she plays four completely different types of characters and never draws attention to the gimmick of having one actress headline the entire anthology. She's so different in behavior, in delivery, and in body language from one segment to the next that it's easy to overlook the shortcomings of the rest of the movie. "Amelia" is essentially a one woman show, and she sells the fact that a mostly stationary doll is stalking and violently attacking her. When it bites her neck, the moment should be patently ridiculous, but instead it's quite tense. Black even makes the ending, which could be laughably bad in less capable hands, ominous.

 I'm a sucker for anthologies, even ones that barely qualify as horror, and Trilogy of Terror delivers just enough and doesn't overstay its welcome. Yes, Chad is possibly the most loathsome protagonist (?) you're going to see in any horror movie, but it's nice when he gets his. The second segment is at least atmospheric, if not very predictable. For a TV movie, the production values are pretty good. And, again, Karen Black is the main draw here, and she goes for broke to elevate Trilogy of Terror beyond just another TV movie. You can find creepier, or more violent, but for entertainment value, Trilogy of Terror is just the kind of anthology to put on for friends at a Halloween party.

Retro Review: Tales from the Crypt Presents Demon Knight

 It's been a while now since Tales from the Crypt was on television, either in its uncensored form (HBO) or the network cleaned up iteration (Fox). If it airs in syndication, I haven't seen it, but to be fair I don't watch a lot of Syfy or Chiller (where I imagine it would end up), but HBO did release all seven seasons on DVD and they aren't too hard to find (or too expensive if you're willing to dig around for good deals). The series ran from 1989 to 1996 and had two (three?) theatrical spinoffs, the first of which I thought I'd take a look back at today.

 Demon Knight always had the edge over Bordello of Blood when it came to second wave Tales from the Crypt movies (the Amicus Tales from the Crypt and Vault of Horror deserve their own separate consideration), in part because it tries to extend the concept of the series beyond an elongated episode. In fact, Demon Knight wouldn't work condensed to thirty minutes (whereas the goofier Bordello of Blood could easily be truncated and played as a "comedic horror" episode). As the Crypt Keeper (John Kassir) suggests during the "movie within a movie" prologue, Demon Knight is his full-fledged Hollywood effort, and the producers of Tales from the Crypt brought an "A" game mentality to a "B" movie and succeed in a trashy good time.

 It starts with director Ernest Dickerson, the director of Juice, Bones, and Surviving the Game but likely better known as a longtime cinematographer for Spike Lee (including Do the Right Thing and Malcolm X), as well as a DP for Tales from the Darkside. Well, maybe only I remember that. I was also a big Tales from the Darkside fan. Also he's directed episodes of The Wire, The Walking Dead, Dexter, Treme, and is one of the Masters of Horror. Demon Knight was his third directorial effort, but years as a cinematographer gave Dickerson the skill and experience to make Demon Knight look dynamic, inventive, and maintain a humorous tone while still being tense (and at times, pretty gross).

 Also helping in a big way is Billy Zane, he who sort of vanished after Titanic (well, unless you have an affinity for DTV movies, in which case he's a busy guy), who plays The Collector, a human disguised demon hellbent on retrieving a key from Brayker (William Sadler), the titular hero. Brayker is sullen, distrustful, and behaves with questionable moral values at the beginning of the film, whereas Zane's Collector is gregarious, forthcoming, and polite to a fault to the police (Gary Farmer and John Schuck) who find the wreckage of his car - the one Brayker shot until it caught fire and exploded. Of course, when it becomes clear that he's not going to get the key, his true nature comes out, and Zane has a prime opportunity to chew scenery and unleash hell.

 While I've always enjoyed CCH Pounder, Dick Miller, Brenda Bakke, Charles Fleischer, Jada Pinkett , and Thomas Haden Church (the "sponge" scene with Zane cracks me up every time) as the unwitting participants of the battle between good and evil, Billy Zane really owns Demon Knight. His seduction (failed and successful) of every character per their weakness keeps the "siege" horror subgenre trappings fresh. Along with the special effects by the combo of Todd Masters Company and Kevin Yagher Productions, who create not only the demon spawn that The Collector raises but also a number of great gags (including the SPOILER half arm Pounder's Irene is left with and how she uses it to respond to The Collector).

 If you're wondering, I watched Demon Knight again recently and I still enjoy it as a better than average "B" movie, one worthy of the reputation that Tales from the Crypt implies. The back story of Brayker and The Collector is spread out through the film in a manner that keeps you unsteady about whether the "hero" is really someone we should trust, or just a desperate loner who lived a long, long time. It's not the kind of movie that's going to make it on or near lists of the "greatest horror films" of all time, but it makes a strong case for being a movie to kick back with some friends and a few beers. I'm certainly more inclined to recommend Demon Knight over Bordello of Blood, and having never seen Ritual I can't really speak for that film. It's a down and dirty, fun and filthy horror movie that has the edge over Feast (which borrows some of the tone of Demon Knight) and Filter's "Hey Man, Nice Shot" aside, it has aged pretty well.


 Interesting tidbit: In the "making of" for The Frighteners, Robert Zemeckis and Peter Jackson reveal that the former approached the latter to make the Michael J. Fox / ghost scam artist horror comedy under the Tales from the Crypt banner, before the two agreed it worked better as a standalone film.

May the 4th... Be with Marvel!

 Again, take that George Lucas. That will keep me satisfied considering that I forgot that in trading up from a dead phone to a newer one that I inadvertently chose the one that gives Lucasfilm kickbacks. Anyway, so as you may or may not be aware, The Avengers opens on Friday (or Thursday at midnight, if you aren't one of those "technicalists" who keep late hours and prefer to think of the next day some time around dawn when you're heading to bed). It is a movie where comic book characters we've been getting to know cinematically for the last four years get together to save the Earth, and if not that, presumably avenge it.

 I can't imagine anyone who is predisposed to seeing Marvel's The Avengers based on the comic book Marvel's The Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes does not know who Joss Whedon is, but for the rest of you he's the semi-classic definition of a "cult" hero. The reason that most of you wouldn't know who he was is because if you've heard anything he's created, it's usually in a derisive way, like "oh, the guy that Fox hires and then cancels his shows" (Firefly, Dollhouse), or "the guy who made a TV show out of that Kristy Swanson movie" (Buffy the Vampire Slayer), or "oh, guy who had the spinoff of that Kristy Swanson thing with the guy from Bones" (Angel). Maybe it was "the guy that made that movie all those nerdy 'browncoats' wanted me to see but nobody got around to it" (Serenity). Actually, it's probably that "guy who did the musical thing with Neil Patrick Harris that's on Netflix that I didn't see because my annoying nerd friends told me 'OMG it's like the best EVAR!" (Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-Long Blog).

 By the way, I'm not actually bagging on Joss Whedon for any of this, so there's no need to point out that he created Buffy the Vampire Slayer and wrote the movie which was taken away from him and Donald Sutherland refused to use Whedon's dialogue or that you tried your best to get your friends to see Serenity and wrote letters to save Dollhouse and Firefly and that you saw every episode of Buffy and Angel and you've read Whedon's run on The Astonishing X-Men. It's cool. I get it. There's a copy of Serenity behind me and Firefly is upstairs. I'm not trying to get your goad, folks*. This is for people who read this entire paragraph and said "what now?" There is very little "public perception" of Joss Whedon, but even as a fan of the Whedon-verse, I can understand why some people feel we're insufferable in our geekdom.

 So where was I? Ah yes, okay Joss Whedon is a writer / director / creative force known to a devoted audience and then not so much by the rest of the world. The Avengers is in almost all certainty going to change that. Then people might finally stop mentioning his period as screenwriter-for-hire / script doctor (Speed, Toy Story, Waterworld, X-Men**, Alien: Resurrection to name a few) and he'll have some leeway to do whatever he wants and also get to make blockbuster comic book movies if he feels like it. This is a good thing, by the way, as he is a tremendously talented fellow that has mostly been just under the radar for the last decade.

 I thought it might be fun to revisit the path to The Avengers by looking at reviews for Iron Man, The Incredible Hulk, Iron Man 2, Thor, and Captain America: The First Avenger before we get to the main event. And even though I've already seen The Avengers, for reasons I can't get into or discuss at the moment, I'm going to see it again before giving it a proper review. To prove to you that I'm not pulling your chain, here's something that nobody else has mentioned about the film: Harry Dean Stanton has a cameo that's all the funnier because there's no good reason why Harry Dean Stanton should be playing a security guard having a conversation with Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) after the Hulk falls from the sky.

 The other fun thing about this recap is that I never actually reviewed Iron Man 2, so you'll get a fresh look at it two years later as I'll be watching it again in the next day or two. Tomorrow, I'll put up a vintage double feature review of Iron Man and The Incredible Hulk, and then on Wednesday I'll get you a new Iron Man 2 review, followed by Thor on Thursday (how appropriate) and Captain America on Friday. Then we'll close out the week with The Avengers on Saturday. In the mean time, go see The Avengers this weekend. I think you'll really like it. Except for Professor Murder. I can almost guarantee he's not going to like it at all.




 * If I were going to do that, I'd mention that I am not a huge fan of Whedon musicals, which means I don't like Dr. Horrible and I really didn't like "Once More with Feeling". Flame on.
** He is singularly responsible for the notorious "do you know what happens when a toad is struck by lightning" line, which in his defense would sound a lot funnier delivered by Sarah Michelle Gellar.

News and Notes: Breather Edition

 Yeesh! I feel like I've been doing nothing but putting up reviews for the last few weeks. Yes, there are the obligatory Video Daily Doubles and Trailer Sundays, but between those have been a nonstop run of reviews and not much else. I'm not even done with the list of movies I've seen but haven't done write ups for (The Descendants, Young Adult, Captain America: The First Avenger, Saw IV, V, and VI), and now I'm strongly considering diving into the first season of Game of Thrones.

 Well, I watched the first episode last night, and based on how it ends, you have plenty of incentive to watch the second one. I've also been keeping up with season three of Eastbound and Down, which manages to up the ante on the horrible things that Kenny Powers is able to endure and inflict on others. It seems like either would be a fine candidate to return to TV Talk with. I must confess that I am not up to date with The Walking Dead or Breaking Bad, and if I'm going to invest another nine hours on Game of Thrones, it could be a little while before I get there.

 Now that we're nearly two weeks removed from The 84th Annual Academy Awards, allow me to share a few things I found amusing:

 - I didn't really like the "test audience" segment as it pertained to the content, but it was nice to see the Christopher Guest Players (sans Parker Posey) together again. I hope this entices them into making another of their mockumentaries.

 - The fact that the cast of Bridesmaids had a drinking game involving Martin Scorsese's name made me smile. That no one ever explained or confirmed said drinking game makes me smile all the more.

 - The Cirque de Soleil performance that people, at best, can describe as "impressive" is still tenuously (at best) related to movies after the North By Northwest opening. It is, however, as ridiculous as the "interpretive dance to scores from movies like Saving Private Ryan" from the 2000 Academy Awards telecast, so there's that.

 - Did I miss it, or was there only one pointless montage this year? To be fair, I had some apple pie early in the program, so I didn't even catch all of that montage, but if there was another one I've forgotten it.

 - Chris Rock looked younger. Like, a LOT younger. Also, he called out celebrities that do voice-over work in animation and was funnier than Billy Crystal while he did it. It didn't hurt than most (if not all) of the stars in attendance have done animation voice-over, including Martin Scorsese* (drink now).

 - Not to be outdone by George Lucas, James Cameron made sure everybody watching the Oscars that didn't DVR it would know that Titanic will be in 3-D very soon. I look forward to not watching the film for the first time again, but this time in fake 3-D.

 This is maybe something that only I chuckled at, but Criterion made it so that Belle de Jour and Godzilla will sit side-by-side in Spine Numbers from here on out. Also, they are upgrading The Last Temptation of Christ on Blu-Ray in time for Easter. Being John Malkovich, The War Room, Harold and Maude, and Shallow Grave are soon to follow. Now we just need C.H.U.D.

 Speaking of which, why is nobody trying to remake C.H.U.D.?

Finally: A List of Fifteen Minute Movie movies I Watched on VHS but Never Got Around to Writing About:

 Midnight Run
 Kelly's Heroes
 Wayne's World
 Best in Show
 The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring



 * Shark Tale. You're welcome.

Spoiler of the Day: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

 Paul Reubens dies, but very, veerrrrry slowly - not even the credits can kill him. Buffy takes a few years off, regenerates into Sarah Michelle Gellar, and begins life anew on the WB. Rutger Hauer, wounded, but not dead, begins riding the rails in hopes that he can buy a lawnmower. Instead, he finds a different path...


Tomorrow's Spoiler of the Day: Hobo with a Shotgun.

TV Talk: Treehouse of Horror XI-XXI

 When last we left off, the Cap'n had finished watching the first ten episodes of The Simpsons' Treehouse of Horror series, which covers seasons two through eleven. Even though I decried an evident case of diminishing returns as the series went on (in effect stopping nearly when I stopped watching the show), I noticed that I seemed to be missing "Night of the Dolphins," and I figured why not sit down and catch up with eleven years' worth of horror-related anthologies that I hadn't seen (some at all).

 I was left with a "good news, bad news" scenario: the good news was there were flashes of my favorite Treehouse of Horror's, but the bad news was they were often fleeting, and a rarely did one of them lasted for an entire segment of its episode.

 Things get off to a shaky start in Treehouse of Horror XI with a parody of the Bill Cosby movie Ghost Dad, but evens out with the final segment, the aforementioned "Night of the Dolphin," which manages to fit in nods to Jaws and The Birds and has a fitfully dark ending. The middle segment, "Scary Tales Do Come True," is symptomatic of a problem that plagues the latter eleven Treehouse entries: many of the parodies are tangentially (at best) tied to horror.

 A Hansel and Gretl meet other fairy tales would make sense in the context of other Simpsons anthology episodes (which have covered works of literature, myths, or Biblical stories), but it begins a trend of moving away from Twilight Zone stories and horror films to other parodies - some of which don't even make sense. But Transformers? Mr. and Mrs. Smith? The Harry Potter spoof doesn't even get a pass because if you took that, "Scary Tales Can Come True," and "Four Beheadings and a Funeral", a Sherlock Holmes / Jack the Ripper story, and put them into their own anthology.

 I'm more willing to give the Mad Men-esque spoof "How to Get Ahead in Dead-vertising" because it at least continues the trend of zombie celebrities, even if it is just a variation on the Homer the Grim Reaper segment from XIV. However, "Bartificial Intelligence" doesn't make any sense in a Treehouse of Horror, and a Golem story (like "Hex in the City") eventually shifts from possibly horror related to cheap ethnic jokes. A Fantastic Voyage (really?) spoof turns it self around into a variation on Treehouse of Horror II's "Homer and Burns share a body" joke, followed by a song-and-dance vaguely reminiscent of the "Bart Simpson's Dracula". "The Ned Zone" never really goes anywhere, and "Married to the Blob" starts great but falls apart long before Dr. Phil appears as himself. A Tales from the Crypt-style opening sequence falls apart as soon as Smithers appears, which is a shame.

 The nadir of the latter Treehouses is"The Day the Earth Stood Stupid," a segment that seems to be a take on Orson Welles' infamous "War of the Worlds" hoax, but then devolves into a boneheaded (and woefully unfunny) critique of the War in Iraq, with Kodos and Kang arguing about who said they would be "greeted as liberators" and ends with an awful "hearts and minds" gag. Of course, if you like Kodos and Kang, then stay away from "E.T.: Go Home" which seems promising but quickly goes south.

While there are some serious lowlights, it is fair to mention that there are some sporadically clever segments: there's the spot-on Hitchcock homage "Dial 'M' for Murder or Press # to Return to Main Menu," a pretty good take on Dead Calm (although I can't imagine most fans getting that reference) marred only by a pointless A Clockwork Orange reference ("Simpsons did it!"), the Twilight parody actually has a few good jokes, as does Pierce Brosnan's evil house in XII. While I don't love "Frinkenstein", it was amusing to hear Jerry Lewis as Professor Frink's father gleefully collecting organs at the Nobel Prize ceremony. "The Island of Doctor Hibbert" and "Survival of the Fattest" are pretty good, and the 28 Days Later "tainted Krusty Burger" segment is great but drops the ball at the end.

 The closest thing other than the Hitchcock segment is an almost perfect send-up of Charlie Brown cartoons called "It's the Grand Pumpkin, Milhouse." For a while, it sustains the animation style, but overuses a few obvious gags (Marge's trombone, for example) and breaks the tone with Nelson and the bullies before halfway redeeming itself with a racist pumpkin ("all pumpkins are racist; the difference is I admit it!"). The Grand Pumpkin and Tom Turkey's screams of "Revenge!" still make me chuckle.

 
Watching the second half of the Treehouse of Horror episodes (plus one), I can see many of the things I've noticed while popping in on The Simpsons over the years after no longer being a regular viewer - jokes are periodically funny, but often are followed by something that reminds me of a better Simpsons episode. The "jerkass" phase of Homer Simpson is abundant in many of these episodes, and it's more grating than hilarious. The pop culture references become more obvious and get lazier as time goes on, and much of the sharp writing of earlier years is undermined by lazy shortcuts or, worse, an inability to stick the landing. While I don't plan on watching the show regularly again (and the episode "The Real Housewives of Fat Tony" really guaranteed that), it was nice to catch up on what used to be a Halloween institution, even if several Treehouse of Horror episodes joke about airing in November.

Blogorium Review: Exporting Raymond

 After concluding his nine year run on Everybody Loves Raymond, Executive Producer Phil Rosenthal is offered by Sony to oversee the production of a Russian version of the show, titled Everybody Loves Kostya. Rosenthal agrees to fly to Moscow, and takes along a camera crew to document his experiences. The result is the docu-comedy Exporting Raymond, which is a sometimes successful but mostly grating experience.

 Rosenthal (who wrote, produced, and directed Exporting Raymond) narrates most of the film, which focuses on the trials and tribulations of translating a sitcom based on naturalism into a culture that prefers the outrageous in their comedy (the two shows Rosenthal is pointed towards are Russian versions of The Nanny and Married with Children). He clashes with the writers (who don't think the scripts are funny enough), the costume designer (who thinks the clothes are boring), the executives (who don't like his casting suggestions) and the producers and director, who don't seem very interested in his notes or micro-managing. When this isn't happening, Rosenthal wanders around Moscow playing the "fish out of water" stereotype, and is content to spend the first two-thirds of the movie portraying all of Russia as a) oppressive, b) scary, or c) strange.

 It's clear shortly after Rosenthal takes the job that he's trying to accentuate the "comedy" in his documentary, beginning with overplaying the fears of being kidnapped or poisoned (two running gags that go nowhere), and it might be less grating if he didn't mug so much for the camera. There's scarcely a moment early in the film where Rosenthal isn't making a "can you believe this is happening to me?" face or cracking some uncomfortable joke that exists only to get a laugh. If it weren't actually happening, one might surmise that Exporting Raymond was a kind of reverse Borat*.

 Still, there are moments that shine through despite his attempts to mine uncomfortable chuckles out of audiences. A moment where Rosenthal's bodyguard / driver Eldar takes him to his "favorite" museum, a depot of tanks and weapons fortification, which at first appears to exist just to see the producer uncomfortable becomes a moment of revelation when Eldar admits that if he could take it back, he would have pursued conchology instead of entering the military, and that his actual favorite museum is one of biology in Saint Petersburg. When Rosenthal leaves during a hiatus, he returns to find Eldar is heading to the hospital for a series of procedures. Or maybe he's going on vacation. Nobody seems sure, but Rosenthal persists in following this plot thread through to the end of the film, even if the payoff is wholly anticlimactic.

  The negatives are offset a bit by visits from Rosenthal's parents (who are the basis for Ray's parents on the show), both in person and over Skype, as well as the gradual humanization of some of the production team in Moscow. There's an amusing moment where Rosenthal attempts to free his first choice for Kostya from his contract in theatre, until the producer discovers his contract is with the Moscow Art Theatre (the original home of naturalism, Stanislavsky, and Chekov), and he has to convince Boris Klyuyev, the head of the theatre, to let his actor leave to do television. Needless to say it doesn't work out.

 I don't know how fair the portrayal of Moscow as dilapidated and frightening (the "number one" studio filming location is a constant source of jokes from Rosenthal, who suggests "they filmed the first Saw in here," and when the film finally settles down into a less exaggerated tone, a visit to an artist and his instillation pushes Exporting Raymond into a montage of "artsy" camera tricks, animated overlays, and goofy freeze frames. The film even ends with Rosenthal saying "so what did we learn?" after already having explained to us that "people are basically the same" despite repeatedly highlighting cultural differences for 80 minutes.

 Now, it is possible that Exporting Raymond could have been compelling without all of the deliberate attempts to be "funny," and that more actual humor could be found in the situations, but there are so many moments in the film that feel forced, as though I'm meant to think "wow, that's so different than it is here, how funny that they think this" that after a while, the film lost what little charms it had. I hate to pin it all on one person, but since Phil Rosenthal seems to be the singular driving force behind Exporting Raymond, I must conclude that it was his decision to force the comedy into the documentary, either to accentuate what existed or to attempt to create a funny tone throughout. That might work for some audiences, but it didn't for me.

 Postscript: There a two moments during the credits that are genuinely amusing - one happens while Ray Romano is watching the first episode of Everybody Loves Kostya, and the other involves a curious wall decoration in Klyuyev's office.

 * If that sounds unfair, watch how awkward some of the "interview" moments are during the film.

The Netflix Dilemma.

 While deleting and re-installing Netflix on the Blogorium PS3 last night (it had something to do with being "unable to connect"), I had a moment of two to mull over the whole "price raising" (some call it gouging) situation the company announced earlier this month. It wasn't popular, and I'm sure they're catching hell for it, and I suspect many Netflix subscribers will leave when the hike takes effect in September.

 Me? I'm on the fence. Truly I am, and while my knee-jerk reaction was "raise your prices? to hell with you jerks!" I did settle down and consider that I was paying $12 a month for unlimited streaming and one DVD or Blu-Ray at a time. If I tried to buy any of the movies or TV shows I was taking full advantage of, I'd be spending a lot more than that a month. That's a fact, even if you really want to get into the nitty gritty of hunting like a madman online for the best possible price and then tacking on free Two Day Shipping (which is, by the way, actually a 68 dollar yearly fee on Amazon) or dropping another three to seven dollars for next-day delivery. Netflix offers a certain convenience with instant viewing and deliverable discs. Their movies also don't go "dead" twenty-four hours after you rent them, like Playstation Network's rental system, and you don't have to download them, so that's another perk. You can stop watching something and pick up where you left off - also nice.

 The flipside(s) are also totally valid, and I can't do a much better job than this piece, entitled Dear Netflix: Drop Dead. You're going to find out a few things you probably didn't know about the streaming service in there, the least of which is that Showtime's currently airing series aren't coming back to "Watch It Now." HBO series probably never will. Netflix arbitrarily pulls movies from the Instant Queues, often with little warning, which sucks, but I always viewed the "watch it now" part of the service as an added bonus - it was something I could use in addition to my DVD rentals.

 Now that I need to consider paying for both, I'm torn. It's not the random dropping of movies or the lack of some TV shows, which I guess sucks. It's not the movies that end up "pan-and-scan" in an era when "Full Screen" finally means something very different, although that also sucks. It's not even the considerable disparity between what Neftlix offers in their disc-based and streaming-based plans, with the 28 day holdover on new releases which are also now barebones discs, which sometimes really sucks. I can get past most of that. The question becomes "do I use both of them enough to merit paying 60% more?"

 That's the catch; the streaming allows me to watch televisions shows, which I am habitually unable to keep up with as they air (the exception is Doctor Who). I've been able to slowly but surely make it almost to the end of Battlestar Galactica thanks to Neftlix Instant Queue. I will finish the series by the end of the summer, something I was unable to do picking up seasons while working at a used book store as the show aired. Then I can start on Luther and Sherlock, two BBC series I've wanted to look into. Netflix just added Mad Men, a show I've been wanting to watch but haven't yet, and now I have a year to catch up on the four seasons before the fifth starts. And there's The League, and Louie, and Archer, FX shows I've caught in fits and bursts. Being able to watch The Twilight Zone, Star Trek, Futurama, Arrested Development, Better of Ted, Top Gear, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and a host of other shows at any time is also a perk, since I no longer have any of those DVDs and can't afford the Blu-Rays.

 I also was able to watch Exit Through the Gift Shop, Double Take, ThanksKilling, and (sigh) Monsturd through the streaming option, movies I might not be aware of otherwise or might simply have forgotten about. I understand that Rubber is currently available, so can imagine The Troll Hunter won't be far behind. Netflix is very good about picking up smaller, independent films and putting them on their Instant Queue before the discs are available. They're very good with new releases from Criterion, which saves all kinds of money.

 On the other hand, I can't watch all of the excellent Doctor Who DVDs on Netflix. I can watch some of the episodes, but not all of them. I can't watch any features, and as many of you know, the Cap'n is something of a supplement junkie. Classic Doctor Who DVDs go above and beyond the call of duty for every story when it comes to extras, so I like to rent the discs for that. Also, they rarely "pull" movies from my DVD queue, something I can't say about their Instant. I don't need three discs at a time, but I don't really want to drop the Instant service. I use both of them, and while the cost isn't excessive, Netflix has a ways to go before it's justifiable to pay for each one as its own entity.

 So I'm on the fence right now, as I suspect many of you are. The other options aren't thrilling, unless I just give up and risk being sued for illegally downloading all of the things I want to watch. That's not cheaper by a long shot. If you have suggestions, I'm all ears, gang.

Blogorium Review: Land of the Lost

 Was it just me, or did people not really want to see Land of the Lost when it came out in 2009? The ads looked terrible, it came at a time when TV shows were being cannibalized left and right for PG-13 movies I didn't see (falling between Bewitched and The A-Team, chronologically*), and I promptly forgot that it existed. Despite generally enjoying Will Ferrell and Danny McBride, I guess it just seemed like a toothless, "safe" comedy designed to be kid friendly enough to appeal to everybody. How wrong I was, on every count.

 Dr. Rick Marshall (Ferrell) is a paleontologist experimenting with the possibility of exploring other dimensions by accelerating tachyon fields when the scientific community (and Today Show host Matt Lauer) soundly reject his theories. After three years of toiling in obscurity, Cambridge PhD candidate Holly Cantrell (Anna Friel) approaches Marshall about his invention, designed to create bridges between realities, and the beleaguered scientist reluctantly agrees to a "field test" at a roadside attraction called Devil's Cave. Their guide, Will Stanton (Danny McBride) finds himself dragged along to another dimension where all times exist concurrently, a land of the lost, and without Marshall's invention, they appear to be trapped. Can Marshall, Will, and Holly find a way back home? Will a tenacious T-Rex make a meal out of Rick? And what about Chaka (Jorma Taccone), a primate that seems to run when anything gets dangerous? Or those Sleestaks, whose leader Enik (John Boylan) promises to help them escape? 

 I'm not really sure what I was expecting when putting on Brad Silberling's big-screen version of Land of the Lost, a cult 70s show from Sid and Marty Krofft (who also produced the film). To be honest with you, I was never a regular viewer of the Krofft output: H.R. Puf 'n Stuff was a little before my time, and I can't honestly tell you that I've ever seen Sigmund and the Sea Monsters. If Land of the Lost ever aired on USA, there's an off chance I watched it sandwiched in between Lost in Space and that show about scientists in a land of giants (called, appropriately, Land of the Giants). Other than knowing what a Sleestak was, that Chaka was something's name, and a joke in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back about Will Ferrell's character name (U.S. Marshal Willenholly), I wouldn't call myself knowledgeable about Land of the Lost.

 It turns out that this isn't really important, since the show is basically a back drop for jokes that constantly push the boundaries of a PG-13 rating. Perhaps because I wasn't attached to the original show, goofy references like the theme song didn't bother me so much, and instead I focused on the character interaction, which made the movie for me. If the film is funny, I tend to overlook silly or obvious moments and enjoy the actors. Land of the Lost has plenty to enjoy. it turns out, and the actors are a big component.

 Will Ferrell is somewhere between his over-the-top parts in Talladega Nights and his really-low-key roles in Stranger Than Fiction or Winter Passing, and as a result Rick Marshall seems to be both goofy and credible as a scientist. I've never seen Pushing Daisies, but apparently Anna Friel was on the show and has quite a following, and she was a very endearing Holly, a character you need to believe is smart enough to hold her own but young enough to look up to Rick Marshall. Danny McBride is a dialed-back version of his "likable asshole" character type, but his everyman Will has many of the best lines, particularly a running gag about how nonchalant Rick and Holly are about seeing dinosaurs, giant bugs, and Chaka.

 Oh, and then there's Chaka, a make or break "comic relief" character played by an unrecognizable Jorma Taccone (The Lonely Island / director of MacGruber). I had no idea who Chaka was until the end of the film, but I somehow doubt the character was this sleazy on the show. Chaka fixates on Holly's breasts, and most of the running gags that don't involve him betraying Rick at a critical juncture seem to involve finding ways for Taccone to grope Friel in inappropriate ways. Even a "characters accidentally get high" scene that seems to be par the course for comedies these days works because Ferrell, McBride, and Taccone sell a cliche until you're laughing along with them.

 Maybe Land of the Lost caught me in just the right way, but there's filthy fun to be had in this movie that I wasn't prepared for. Other than one enthusiastic recommendation from a friend, I'd heard almost no one mention Land of the Lost in any capacity, so the movie's decidedly kid un-friendly tone caught me off guard in a very good way. This is absolutely not the kind of flick you want to show around the little ones, unless you like saying "never repeat that" or "cover your eyes" for large chunks of the movie. They manage to get as close to an "R" rating as you possibly can without going all the way over, which is to the film's benefit.

 This may also be why Land of the Lost failed to connect with an audience, though. It was sold as family friendly, accentuating the Matt Lauer cameo and creating a sensation that Will Ferrell was playing his "idiot blowhard" persona, typecasting the film as something it really isn't on any account. Families would be turned off, Ferrell fans probably didn't tune in because of the PG-13 (which likely also turned off Eastbound and Down McBride fans), so nobody turned up. Fans of the show probably didn't see much that interested them, so who was left to see Land of the Lost? Director Brad Silberling doesn't exactly inspire confidence, considering that Casper and City of Angels are on his resume. The only film I've seen of his I even liked was Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events, and I appear to be in the minority in that category. Land of the Lost never really had a chance...

 Two years later, it doesn't appear to be well liked on the Tomatometer and has middling reviews on IMDB. It's a shame, because I feel like Land of the Lost missed its audience, and people who would enjoy the film are going to be hard pressed to believe something that looks so stupid is actually very funny. Maybe this review is a helpful first step, but I sense it's an uphill battle to turn around the perception that Land of the Lost is anything other than lousy. Give it a shot, especially if you like Will Ferrell, Danny McBride, Pushing Daisies**, or The Lonely Island. It's smarter than it looks, funnier than it appears, and more enjoyable than you'll want to admit.



 * I chose those two at random, but in terms of when they were made as shows and as movies, Land of the Lost falls between both of them. Weird.
** That's really a guess on my part, but I didn't want to leave Anna Friel out. She's a big component of why the film works.

Two Reasons I Don't Always Understand Geek Culture

 The Cap'n is, unavoidably, a geek. While I don't always identify as such, it's hard to write on a blog where you adopt the moniker of a demon from The Exorcist and plaster artwork of Dr. Re-Animator and The Werewolf vs. the Vampire Woman on the page. I try to mix up the content, but let's be honest here: after devoting a weekend to a "virtual" version of a horror film festival I usually host in person, I bounced back with a documentary about what Conan O'Brien did after NBC dropped him for Jay Leno. While I haven't read many comic books in the last year, I still watch movies about them, and am looking forward to Joss Whedon's The Avengers.

 However, I don't always understand my geek brethren; there are things about the internet in particular - the nesting place of the "geek" - that seem counter-intuitive to what people claim they want. Today I'll take a look at two things that don't really make sense to me, especially in a time when "geek" culture seems to be getting everything they want from major studios and television networks. I'd normally do four, but the first two were so long that I thought I'd cut it in half.

 1. "We want to see it, but we're not going to go see it!" - I call this the Scott Pilgrim vs. the World effect, although you could just as easily replace that with Kick-Ass, Serenity, Your Highness, or a dozen or so other movies designed specifically for a geeky demographic. You can't throw a rock without hitting someone complaining about how Hollywood is constantly recycling, remaking, or re-imagining something from the 1980s. Now, it is true that this happens with increasing regularity, in part because people go see these remakes. I mean, why not? They already know the title, vaguely remember the story, and it beats going to see something else.

 The chatter is loud and not necessarily without cause, but then when a project that comes out that ISN'T a remake, re-adaptation, retooling of something we've already seen, or even just not another "reboot" of a series we're invested in, the same geeks crying out suddenly get very quiet about putting their money where their mouths are. I was very, VERY hard on Scott Pilgrim fans in particular because instead of going to see the movie they constantly hyped as "finally, something that isn't like everything else," they instead stayed home and complained about how stupid it was that people went to see The Expendables instead. It's not Sylvester Stallone's fault that you didn't go see you new favorite movie, nor is it Julia Robert's fault with Eat, Pray, Love. I have tried to move away from using Box Office figures as a barometer for anything, but if you read "geek" coverage of Scott Pilgrim vs the World after the first two weeks, you'd think that it was hovering right below the aforementioned films. Nope. Scott Pilgrim vs the World came in behind The Expendables, Eat, Pray, Love, The Other Guys, and Inception. Inception is, by the way, an exception to the rule, although the "it was overrated" chants are getting louder every week.

 Mind you, it's not just Scott Pilgrim: Sucker Punch, a film that caters to geek fetishes, was also widely ignored by its target audience. Serenity, a film based on Joss Whedon's short-lived Firefly, apparently had a legion of fans called "Browncoats" who went to the free screenings the summer before the film came out, and then were so enthusiastic that they didn't go see it again. Or tell their friends to see it. Or tell anyone to see it, even though you'll be hard pressed to find a Firefly fan who won't talk about Serenity until they're blue in the face. So if you're this enthusiastic about a film, this excited for an alternative to the "same old thing," something directed to the very vocal internet, why is it you're happy to let the film die a lonely death in theatres, complain about the films people went to see while you stayed home, and then wait for the Blu-Ray? Eventually they'll stop listening to your pleas, stop catering to your whims, and then you're left with the same old thing.

 Don't believe me? Look at Universal: they're smarting from the Scott Pilgrim debacle, coupled with big losses for Your Highness and modest returns for Paul. Now that Comcast bought the company, they've already put Guillermo Del Toro's At the Mountains of Madness on indefinite hold, and have delayed further development of Ron Howard's adaptation of The Dark Tower series. These are two highly sought-after geek adaptations, and considering how much muscle they have behind them, the reason they've been put into development hell has a lot to do with the "We want to see it, but we're not going to see it" precedent.

Normally, when Guillermo Del Toro wants to adapt H.P. Lovecraft in a big budget, R rated horror film in 3D with the backing of James Cameron and star Tom Cruise, a studio isn't going to say "no" to that. Del Toro is the only "x" factor there, with his critically popular but financially modest films, including Universal's disappointing Hellboy II: The Golden Army. The argument was that Universal was concerned about the "R" rating, but it's not as though high profile projects with an "R" rating haven't performed well for them. The concern seems to be that the geeks clamoring for this film might not bother showing up (again), so why invest that kind of money when the precedent says there's no good reason to?

 The Dark Tower series is even more ambitious: Howard wants to adapt the entire series, split up between films and a running TV series that would bridge the movies. Javier Bardem is virtually a lock for Roland, and yet Universal is hedging about "the budget." Why? Again, because even with someone as reliable as Ron Howard and his long time producer Brian Glazer, there's concern that the people who claim to want to see this (the geeks) might be so fickle that they just won't show up. It's killed potential series before: just look at The Golden Compass, or Push, or Jumper, or I Am Number Four. Relative quality aside, those were designed to be "first chapters" in longer narratives, and they probably will never be. Even the geekiest of all geek properties, Tron Legacy, was met with derision by geeks and Disney is debating how much of a budget cut a third Tron will get, if they make it at all.

 It turns out that "if they build it," geeks won't come. Even if they love it. That boggles my mind. The negativity surrounding "bad" films is understandable to a point, but if you're just going to blow off genuine olive branches from people who speak your language, what exactly do you expect to be on the big screen next time?

2. TV Wasteland...? - We live in a time where television is littered with "geek" friendly shows: zombies, alien invasions, dinosaurs, time travel, super heroes, galactic battlestars, and even a "monster of the week show" that's really just about monsters. Oh yeah, and Doctor Who is back. So is Futurama. And yet, week after week, I come away enthusiastic from another episode of a show I enjoyed only to find the internet is littered with nit-pickers complaining about how that great episode was actually "underwhelming" or "lame." I was just looking to see if I missed some small detail, but instead have to wallow through criticism of the "revelation" that ended season six of Doctor Who (okay, the first half). How The Walking Dead is "boring" or "not what we wanted," etc.There was a television show about THE TERMINATOR, and all people did was complain about it.

 I'll freely admit that the ending of The X-Files and Lost disappointed me, and I've made it clear why, but one of the reasons I try really hard not to critique individual episodes before the show is over is because I like to give the creators the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they are making it up as they go along, maybe not. Thanks to the internet, I now know that by the time I get to the end of Battlestar Galactica, more likely than not I'll feel cheated. I didn't want to know that, but shy of never visiting any "geek" site and totally avoiding my friends, it's almost impossible not to be inundated with negativity during a period where networks are actually catering to the audience that shouts the loudest. It's no surprise that shows don't last long when the feedback they see is negative. I'm already worried about Torchwood: Miracle Day, the return of a series I thought was really finding its footing, because the buzz around the first few episodes is not good. Ugh.

 This is hard for me, because I realize that I am essentially complaining about complaining. I'm throwing my two cents into a bottomless pit of negativity, but I just don't understand what's going on here. This is as good of a time to be a geek as humanly possible, and instead of celebrating it, there's a ceaseless echo chamber of backhanded compliments and outright hostility directed at people like us, who grew up watching the same movies we did, and are now trying to represent that point of view for the rest of the world. Now we're at a point where Patton Oswalt (perhaps with tongue in cheek) is suggesting that geek culture "needs" to die so that we can learn to appreciate our roots. The relative quality of films and shows are no longer important, because they all "suck" to people who can shout the loudest. When asked for an alternative, they ask for something and then blithely ignore the result.

 I don't understand you, geeks. I am trying. I thought I was one of you, and I tried to make my own rules clear: there are movies I am interested in and ones I'm not. I'll try to branch out every now and then, and whenever possible not look at gift horse in the mouth. I know that movies like Machete and Black Dynamite and Hobo with a Shotgun were catered to my demographic, and while I maybe didn't love everything about all of them, I try to be clearer than "it just sucks and you suck if you like it." I genuinely wanted to understand what it was about the Saw films that people gravitated towards - it didn't work for me, but obviously they have a strong following. I will ceaselessly sound the horn for films that I think people would really like; films you might not see or know about otherwise. I didn't ask for Scott Pilgrim, so I didn't see it, but I sure as hell was enthusiastic about Tron Legacy and I sure as hell saw it in 3D on an IMAX screen. I backed that geekdom up, and I need to do the same for The Tree of Life soon.

 To close, I don't want to criticize the internet critics, the home of geekdom in its many forms. I just want to understand what's going on here: it's an almost unprecedented time to enjoy having geeky interests, so why is the target audience ignoring it in droves, flooding message boards, and unleashing on people for not doing it for them? 

Blogorium Review: Conan O'Brien Can't Stop

 I find interesting parallels between Rodman Flender's Conan O'Brien Can't Stop and Casey Affleck's I'm Still Here; both films are ostensibly about a man who made his career entertaining people, and is taken away from that life (both, one could argue, by choice) and opts to start anew. Conan O'Brien and Joaquin Phoenix relaunch themselves as live performers, mixing stage appearances with musical sets, and the strain of that reinvention wears on them and their assistants. The difference is that Affleck presented his fictitious film about "Joaquin Phoenix" as a documentary and Rodman Flender is documenting what happened to Conan O'Brien after NBC famously bought out his contract and placed Jay Leno back into the hosting spot for The Tonight Show.

 O'Brien, feeling the void of not performing for the first time in twenty five years, elects to put together a stage show called The Legally Prohibited from Being Funny on Television Tour, a play on his contractual agreement not to appear anywhere for five months. He brings together most of his backing band (notably minus Max Weinberg), hires two Coquettes (Fredericka Meek and Rachel Hollingsworth) to perform as his back up singers, his writers, assistant, and Andy Richter to take their show on the road for 44 dates.

 The title is more than appropriate for the film: O'Brien cannot stop performing and interacting with the public. During a show, O'Brien works out a skit with surprise guests Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart, and in Seattle he invites Eddie Vedder onstage to sing "Baba O'Reilly." After he begs not to do anything for his two days off, O'Brien goes to his 25th Reunion at Harvard, band in tow, and decides to perform "Rock This Town" for the talent show. The following day, after a red-eye bus drive to Tennessee for Bonaroo, instead of kicking back, Conan opts to have a secret fan show at Jack White's studio and performs another full set before heading to the festival, playing the Comedy Tent with no air conditioning and 95% humidity. And before it's all over, O'Brien discovers he's been booked to introduce every act the next day, much to his chagrin.

Every show seems to include backstage time with the public, and O'Brien obliges with a smile. He greets every fan he meets, regardless of how exhausted he is after shows; his dressing room door is always open and he constantly gets up to take pictures with family members of the band or the Coquettes, even when it's clear that all Conan wants to do is rest his voice and call it a night. When a lone fan is outside one of the venues and O'Brien can't leave, he asks his assistant to bring up the photo his fan is holding so that he can sign it. While in Toronto, he mingles with three teenagers who drove sixty hours to make it to the show, and helps one of them get in without a government issued I.D., even after the kid makes a questionably Anti-Semitic remark. While at a truck stop outside of Boston, he gets out of the bus, talks to some women stopping for gas, and then hangs out with three more ladies who want to pray with him. All the while, he keeps up positive spirits, never letting the frustration of the NBC situation show in front of his supporters.

 Don't think that everything is sunshine and roses, however; Conan O'Brien Can't Stop is a "warts and all" documentary. It's clear early in the film that it does bother him, and the anger O'Brien admits to feeling tends to bubble over during meetings with his writers, manager and assistant, who bear the brunt of his sarcastic jabs, some of which border on insults. While O'Brien is consistently testing out jokes, insisting that his team is only allowed to speak while using a banana as a phone irks some of them, and his perfectionist attitude (and self doubt) tend to turn joke sessions into sometimes bitter exchanges.

 For the most part, it never reaches into a mean-spirited tone, save for one moment when Jon Hamm and Jack McBrayer come to visit Conan backstage in Los Angeles, and O'Brien unleashes a litany of "hick" jokes at the 30 Rock star that go over the line. It's clear the McBrayer is trying to have a sense of humor about Conan's wisecracks, insults, and at one point, a song, but his expression eventually turns from politely bemused to irritated with the barrage of demeaning comments. I have a hard time believing this was just a "bit," considering how much of Conan's comedy comes from a very dark place in the film, but it was the only genuinely uncomfortable moment in the film.

While he tries to avoid directly talking about Jay Leno or NBC for most of the proceedings, Conan does let one slip when a pizzeria attaches two articles about O'Brien on the boxes. He pretends the note is a telegram from Leno, which closes with "P.S. What is it like to have a soul?" that elicits laughter from his team, but underscores the dark side we see fleeting glimpses of in the film. There's also a pot-shot taken at TBS, the network he'd eventually sign with, when he derisively responds to their meeting with "when is the meeting with Oxygen? I have plans for Animal Planet."

  Despite the NBC shaped cloud that hovers over everything that happens, Conan O'Brien Can't Stop is a very funny documentary / performance film, one that accentuates everything that Team Coco already liked about Conan while also giving us insight into the man behind the personality. While I was reminded at times of I'm Still Here, Conan O'Brien Can't Stop is almost never uncomfortable in the same way, and feels more authentic than the "reality" Affleck and Phoenix presented under false pretenses. The humanizing element, complete with corny jokes and griping adds depth to smaller moments, like an impromptu version of The White Stripes' "Seven Nation Army" in the Harvard dressing room. For O'Brien fans, this is an absolute "must-see," as someone who missed the tour, you'll see most of the show during the film. If you're curious about the whole Tonight Show situation, this might not reveal much, but I still think Conan O'Brien Can't Stop is well worth your time.

Retro (TV) Review: The X-Files

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Moving without moving.

A very happy Monday to all of you readers: the Cap'n has been a little behind on timely posts lately due to the fact that I've been moving what's left of my stuff from Blogorium storage unit A to Blogorium storage unit B. As the two storage units are roughly 90 miles apart and I can't afford one moving van to accomplish all of this in one go-round, the moving process has been time consuming to say the least. I saw my boxes of VHS tapes for the first time since July, only to see them covered up again by more boxes (those tapes may be the heaviest boxes I have left), and realized there were books in plastic storage bins that I'd forgotten about.

This is, of course, mostly irrelevant to the discussion of film, which is ostensibly what Cap'n Howdy's Blogorium is all about, and as I haven't had time to watch anything beyond an episode or two of Battlestar Galactica (a TV Talk that will have to wait another season and a half), the Cap'n spent the last thirty minutes trying to think of anything to write about that didn't involve moving. You can see how well that worked out.

I'm so early in the stages of making my own "digital copies" that I don't really want to discuss it yet, other than to say that I can now make non-anamorphic transfers "enhanced for widescreen TVs." I have a backlog of rare, obscure, and typically unavailable in the U.S. films to watch or review (including Orson Welles' Chimes at Midnight, Steven Soderbergh's Kafka and The King of the Hill, Willard, Ben, Matewan, 1984, How I Won the War, and Prospero's Books). There's also the matter of Bad Movie Night, which is in about two weeks, and the question of whether I can get anyone other than Cranpire to go see Scream 4 as our field trip feature.

On the upside, Summer Fest Presents: Cap'n Howdy vs. Giant Sharktopus is almost locked in place, as is Horror Fest VI (which doesn't have a catchy moniker... yet) thanks to an influx of offbeat titles I've located in the last few months but would prefer not to disclose. Rest assured, none of them is a "Trappening"; okay, one of them - maybe two at the most.

I think I'll be done moving tomorrow, but it means getting up early to do it, so there will be a Retro Review and a Video Daily Double on Wednesday. Stick around, this is the calm before the storm, kiddos...

TV Talk: Breaking Bad and The Walking Dead

I don't usually cover television here at the Blogorium. From time to time, particularly over the summer, I toyed with the idea, but in the end I always seem to focus on cinema instead. This is not to say I don't watch TV - I still dabble with episodic series, although my faith in the medium dropped off sharply after the final episode of Lost. Trusted friends have been nudging me in the direction of Justified, Mad Men, Battlestar Galactica, The Wire, Breaking Bad, and The Walking Dead in varying degrees, and I feel caught up enough on the final two to weigh in on what will indubitably be a rare excursion into TV Talk.

(Warning: There will be spoilers ahead)

Let's start with AMC's Breaking Bad, of which the first two seasons are available on DVD and Blu-Ray (and how I saw seasons two, and one, respectively). While I am a fan of the mis-adventures of Walter White (aka "Heisenberg") (Bryan Cranston) and Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul), and the inversion of Weeds' "suburbanite has life changing event that leads them to make / sell drugs" plot, I haven't fallen in love with the show as others seem to.

I appreciate the use of science as more than just the "hook" to bring Walter into the world of cooking crystal meth, and the plot twists and turns surrounding the supporting characters - in particular, Hank Schrader (Dean Norris) - keep the show interesting, the series suffers from a repetitive pattern: Walter and Jesse bake some crystal meth, they meet a variation on psycho dealer/competitor/kingpin, said psychopath dies, Jesse and Walter argue, separate for three or four episodes, then something happens that draws one or the other back in and they reluctantly decide to work together. Rinse, repeat.

That is, for better for worse, the first two seasons. Any secondary character introduced is almost certainly doomed to die or go to jail (Jesse's cohorts, Krysten Ritter's Jane Margolis, Tuco, Krazy 8, Danny Trejo's Tortuga), and with the exception of Saul Goodman (Bob Odenkirk) - who I've been assured lives through season Three - there's barely any point investing in new characters introduced on Breaking Bad. There is a great deal to enjoy in the writing of the show, and the execution is often striking, but I'm slightly hesitant about jumping into the third season - if and when it arrives on DVD / Blu-Ray - unless Breaking Bad achieves some sense of heretofore nonexistent stability.

---

I noticed that much of the enthusiasm for AMC's new series The Walking Dead waned halfway through the first season's six episode run, with a number of people who had expressed interest opting to sit out the series for the time being. For an ongoing series about a post-zombie-apocalyptic show to drop off that many hardcore horror fans seemed a bit disheartening. To be honest, I neglected to watch The Walking Dead as it aired, although for differing reasons than a lack of interest. Two years ago (or so), I sat down and read the first four volumes of Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore, and Charlie Adlard's ongoing series of the same name, and as a result, I worried I might be too far ahead of the show. When interviews with the show's creator / executive producer Frank Darabont (who also wrote several episodes and directed the pilot) indicated that Rick Grimes (Andrew Lincoln) and company wouldn't reach the prison until the end of season Two, I decided to record, but not watch, season One while it aired.

Earlier this month, I sat down and (no pun intended) devoured the first few episodes, followed by the final two the next day, and I was pleasantly surprised. I understand why people are a little disappointed - The Walking Dead is, in comic form, a story of the effect of post-zombie infestation told in small doses over a long period of time, during which things happen slowly, and deliberately so. One might describe the issues as mundane, fixated on human drama with the periodic zombie attack. So far, the show has upped the zombie quotient a bit more (the Atlanta stuff is pretty close, actually), but the pace isn't radically different.

Accordingly, I can see why people are getting a little bored by all the interpersonal bickering, love triangles, and lack of gut munching. That said, the series managed to distinguish characters a bit more (one of the problems I had in the second and third volumes was telling who was who apart), and there have been a few curveballs introduced to keep fans of the comic interested in this adaptation - the CDC episodes that close out season one, including Noah Emmerich's Dr. Edwin Jenner, are nowhere to be found in the first few volumes, and I'm almost positive the episode "Vatos" isn't based on anything in the first six issues, nor are T-Dog and the Dixon brothers.

For audiences with waning interest, may I suggest you stick around for season two - without spoiling too much, and even in the event of further deviations from source material, I can say with certainty that The Walking Dead does have a number of things going for it. For one, nearly every major cast member is expendable, in a way that few other series have even considered to this point. New characters frequently enter the narrative, although The Walking Dead differs from Breaking Bad in that it is often difficult to surmise which ones will be around and which ones won't. The "walker" attack on the quarry shelter was an indicator of this, but if the show is in any way faithful to the comic, there's more mayhem and unpredictability to come if the series continues.


That does it for the inaugural edition of TV Talk. Tomorrow I'll be back with another edition of Retro Reviews, where the Cap'n is going to address a fallacy involving unnecessary sequels from 2010...

Retro Review: Murder by Death

Welcome to Retro Reviews, a new column designed to replace From the Vaults. These reviews will deal with films that the Cap'n saw years ago, has seen with some regularity, or simply wanted to review outside of the "current" film scene. Depending on the film, I may attempt reviewing these "older" cinematic offerings by replicating my initial experience, but more than often, I will simply try to review the films as though the Cap'n of today traveled back in time and saw them fresh.

I cannot pinpoint precisely when I first saw Neil Simon and Robert Moore's Murder by Death, although it was indubitably on VHS: my father had a habit of taping films he had a fondness for in the early days of VCRs. Like many films that flew over my head - including Blade Runner, Animal House and, oddly, Disorganized Crime - Murder by Death amused me, although the young Cap'n was woefully bereft of any understanding who Agatha Christie, Dashiell Hammett, or Earl Derr Biggers where, let alone their signature mystery protagonists.

The film, adapted by Simon from his own play, is a send-up of mystery novels, using parodies of the genre's most famous characters: Sam Spade, Nick and Nora Charles, Miss Marples, Monsieur Poirot, and Charlie Chan*. Moore and Simon assembled a "who's who" cast to portray their caricatures: Elsa Lanchester (The Bride of Frankenstein, Mary Poppins) as Jessica Marbles, Peter Sellers (Doctor Strangelove, A Shot in the Dark) as Sidney Wang, David Niven (Wuthering Heights, The Guns of Navarone) and Maggie Smith (Othello, Clash of the Titans) as Dick and Dora Charleston, James Coco (Man of La Mancha, The Wild Party) as Milo Perrier, and Peter Falk (The Princess Bride, Wings of Desire) as Sam Diamond.

Additionally, their companions include Eileen Brennan (The Sting, The Last Picture Show), Richard Narita (Dallas, Drop Dead Gorgeous), Estelle Winwood (Camelot, The Producers), and James Cromwell (L.A. Confidential, The Green Mile), and the host of their murder "party" is Truman Capote, with Alec Guinness (Kind Hearts and Coronets, Lawrence of Arabia) and Nancy Walker (Girl Crazy, Rhoda) as the domestics.

Marbles, Perrier, Diamond, Wang and his son, and the Charlestons are invited to the estate of Lionel Twain (Capote) for purposes unknown. Immediately, they face assassination attempts, staged rain, artificially rickety bridges, a screaming doorbell (Fay Wray's from King Kong, to be exact), the blind butler Bensonmum (Guinness) and the deaf-mute Yetta (Walker). During dinner, Twain appears in a psychedelic fashion and demeans the detectives (and by proxy, their respective creators), accusing them of being frauds. He challenges them to put their reputations on the line by solving a murder that will happen that night to someone in the dining room. Before the night is over, the detectives deal with a dead, naked butler, a maid that may actually be a mannequin, and Twain - the victim of his own mystery? Are things what they seem, and can the aloof sleuths work together to leave 22 Twain in one piece?

I won't linger on the machinations of Murder by Death's plot: the mystery is deliberately nonsensical, designed to offer clues that go nowhere, opening up plot threads Simon has no interest whatsoever in tying up. The film also functions nicely as an entry into the "old dark house" sub-genre, and one might argue that Twain's wager is reminiscent of The House on Haunted Hill. Two lingering images stick with me from a childhood encounter with Murder by Death: the opening credits, which consist with a pair of gloved hands opening a storage chest, revealing a pop-up diorama of the cast, drawn by Charles Addams, accompanied by a slightly playful, possibly menacing score by Dave Grusin. The second, without risking anything, is the moment following the final "twist" in the film, where the actual culprit laughs hysterically, fading to black during a blood-curdling, maniacal howl. I'm not sure if it was supposed to be chilling, but to this day it rings in my brain, inducing shudders.

Robert Moore and David M. Walsh's over-lit cinematography gives Murder by Death a "made-for-TV" aesthetic (one not served well by half a cast's pedigree in television) but Simon's script keeps the film moving at a brisk pace with wit to spare. While I may not have known the nuances of the great detectives, I could appreciate the actors I recognized (Guinness, Sellers, Falk, Smith, and Niven) and enjoyed the witty, erudite banter between the characters. The script relies heavily on wordplay, and over the years I came to appreciate the ways that Simon manages to pay homage to the source material while criticizing their shortcomings - Twain's final speech, pointing out the cheap tactics used to keep audiences in the dark, stands out particularly. Guinness manages to sell a gag as ridiculous as putting a blind butler with a deaf-mute maid together, and while Falk's quasi-Bogart impersonation leans towards broad, Brennan's Miss Skeffington pulls him back.

Do you need to know The Thin Man, The Maltese Falcon, Murder on the Orient Express, The Mirror Crack'd, or The Chinese Parrot? My suggestion would be that its advantageous to have some idea who Hercule Poirot, Sam Spade, Charlie Chan, Miss Marple, and the Charles couple are, but as a film, Murder by Death is successful to the uninitiated. Its stature in "spoofs" or "parodies" tends to be overshadowed by the better known Clue, but for my money the former is funnier, snappier, and better performed than the latter. It remains one of my favorite underrated comedies, one I'm continually surprised to discover that not only people have missed, but were unaware the film existed in the first place.



* While they did appear in an earlier incarnation of the film, Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson were deleted from the closing moments of the story.

From the Vaults: Cap'n Howdy and the 80s Nostalgia of Doom!

I see the advertising from 300 is now gone and replaced with Transformers. I could go on a rant about Michael Bay ruining my childhood memories, but that's actually not going to happen in this instance. Why, none of you ask?

Well, I never watched Transformers. To be honest, I've never seen the movie, nor do I believe I've watched a single episode of the half hour *coughcommercialcough*, ahem, show. The truth is that I have very few memories of television shows from the 1980's, period, despite being born in 1979 and being a child during what is considered the "peak" era of kid cartoons.

I wasn't allowed to watch GI Joe, didn't find He-Man very interesting, having fleeting memories of Voltron and Thundercats, and no memory whatsoever of Transformers. Accordingly, unlike many people my age obsessed with the eighties, I also have never seen Dallas, The Golden Girls, Who's the Boss, Charles in Charge, What's Happening, Growing Pains, or Silver Spoons. In fact, I really don't know much about eighties tv programming. Again, things like The A-Team, Alf, Punky Brewster, Moonlighting, and Family Ties are lost on me. Never watched them. Don't have an overwhelming urge to go back and find out what the deal was.

To me, Mr. T is Clubber Lang, the guy who killed Mickey in Rocky III. Bruce Willis is John McClane, the guy who blew up the Nakatomi building in Die Hard. Names like Scott Baio, Soleil Moon-Frye, and Tony Danza mean nothing to me. I think it's pretty clear that the name Marty McFly means more to me than Alex Keaton.

But I wasn't just soaking up movies at a young age. Yes, I was very much aware of things like The Goonies and Tron or Ghostbusters and Indiana Jones as a youngster, but I did see some tv. Just not what everyone else was watching. I have fond memories of watching Lost in Space on USA, and the old game shows that followed it, like Press Your Luck. I watched Danger Mouse and You Can't Do That On Television, and when Nickelodeon stopped going off the air at 8:30, I watched Nick at Night. Well, except for Donna Reed. But Dennis the Menace, Mr. Ed, The Patty Duke Show, My Three Sons, Bewitched, and Green Acres? Sure.

I also know I watched Fraggle Rock for a brief period, and The Muppet Show is embedded in my memory from an early age (the first two movies my parents took me to as a baby were The Muppet Movie and The Empire Strikes Back, if that helps clarify why I am like I am). Scooby Doo was in the cards, too, but even at a young age I remember preferring episodes without Scrappy.

I was very late in the game when it came to the Disney Channel, so I was behind on things like Ducktales, Gummi Bears, Darkwing Duck, and Talespin. Rescue Rangers never did it for me. Actually, neither did Gummi Bears. I could go look, but I'm putting Tiny Toons in the later bracket of 1980's cartoons, which exempts it from discussion, much like shows like Twin Peaks (which I was aware of but didn't really see.)

A really, really vague memory is floating around in my head of The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy mini-series and some episodes of the Tom Baker Dr. Who on PBS. I clearly recall being disgusted at them eating the talking cow in the Restaurant at the End of the Universe.

There were also things like Mr. Wizard and sort of randomly assorted Nickelodeon programming floating (Double Dare) around, but by and large I didn't know characters on what folks consider the big 80's cartoons, and I certainly had no idea whether the toys were good or evil. I was really into Star Wars at that age, and watched a lot of Disney movies.

Speaking of which, I realized recently while talking to people who were born in the mid eighties why something like The Black Cauldron has no meaning to them whatsoever. I saw The Black Cauldron when I was six, and every time we went to the video store I asked if it had come out yet, and it hadn't. I saw the movie once, and then not again for another ten years, when it finally came out on VHS while I was in high school. Whereas many of these movies were around for people to see, Cauldron simply vanished, and if you didn't see it in theatres, it meant absolutely nothing in the interim.

Who knows? I know that certainly movies were not the most impacting influence on my young life (I didn't mention this before but I read a lot too), and yet the Sacred Cows of the 1980's mean almost nothing to me. Michael Bay turning Transformers into some crappy action movie doesn't bother me the way it might bother some. Or does, I should say. But if he decided to go after The Goonies or Back to the Future, there'd be hell to pay.