Reviews written by registered user
|101 reviews in total|
Film is an unusual combination of Western and horror, with the heroes
tangling with a macabre tribe of cannibalistic native Americans (a
Writer/Director S. Craig Zahler is to be commended both for his unique story and the way he was able to interest some notable actors to star in it under his own direction. Certainly the result is a rather odd cup of tea, not necessarily to the tastes of a broad audience, but there is a lot here to like or at least admire. Zahler's dialogue is deliberately idiosyncratic, with its formal cadences and unusual vocabulary choices, but it's in service to a rather plodding 'quest' storyline that builds to a rushed (albeit gruesome) finale.
Along the way there are a few false steps. It's not a very suspenseful trek that the heroes make to rescue the townspeople abducted by the cannibals; the riding scenes (then walking after their horses are stolen) and bivouacs play out one after the other with little sense of pacing. In fact, their main function seems to be to pad out the film's running time.
By the time the cannibals' lair has been discovered, the ensuing violence happens in discrete bursts of action with no build-up to a climax. Little enlightenment about the tribe, its origin and intentions, including whether there are enough survivors to remain a threat, is provided either visually or verbally.
Performances by the cast, especially Kurt Russell as the sheriff and Richard Jenkins as his deputy, are an asset. However, Matthew Fox's character proves somewhat enigmatic and wooden. And Patrick Wilson, as the injured husband seeking to rescue his kidnapped wife, is okay but has done much more compelling work elsewhere.
A couple of other minuses are the flat cinematography of mundane Southern California desert locations, and Zahler's apparent disinterest in close-ups. But the cannibals are pretty scary, and there's one spectacular prosthetic makeup effect like nothing I've ever seen.
Overall, Zahler shows considerable promise as an off-the-beaten-path type of filmmaker, and viewers will probably want to keep an eye out for his next project.
I agree with many points made by fellow commentators. This was one of
director Philippe Mora's best efforts: atmospheric, grisly and
featuring an extraordinary cast of slumming actors. The makeup
transformation effects by the Burman studio are quite well done. BUT...
Why isn't this called The BUG Within? This poor kid doesn't turn into a beast - he turns into a gosh-darn GIANT CICADA! WTF? Where did that come from? There's no explanation in the script, and according to those who've read the source novel, it's completely different from the original story. I remember seeing this at a United Artists screening in Los Angeles back in 1982. My buddy Mike and I were big horror fans, and after the screening let out we kept asking each other, "But why did he turn into a BUG?" Neither of us could come up with an answer then and obviously, even after all these years and with all these discussions on IMDb, no one else has either.
Screenwriter Tom Holland probably could however. Certainly he's proved himself a talent in the horror genre, with his terrific script for the first Psycho sequel and subsequent work on the first Child's Play and his directorial debut, Fright Night.
Philippe Mora has had a more checkered career. A strong visual stylist, he's struggled with poor choice of material such as the infamous sequel Howling III: The Marsupials.
The Bug - sorry, BEAST Within is definitely worth a look for horror buffs, but when you watch the big transformation scene two-thirds of the way through, I guarantee you'll be scratching your head afterwards. The makeup FX are pretty cool though.
There are already a lot of spot-on reviews here about this failed
attempt at big-budget space adventure from the 90's. I won't bother
adding to commentary about the performances, but I would like to point
out the absurdity of one of the plot points covered elsewhere.
The bad guy, Teague (somnambulantly played by the usually exceptional Peter Boyle), doesn't just have a STUPID motivation for his evil plan - to cause the failure of the spaceship Helios' mission to the sun, so that he can sell lots of stockpiled foodstuffs and make a fortune - he has a NONEXISTENT motivation! Because the Helios' mission, whether it succeeds or fails, DOESN'T AFFECT HIS PLAN. He doesn't believe that the 'mega-flare' (ha ha) will happen; he's just exploiting the current parched conditions of Earth's biosphere. Even if the Helios succeeds in dropping the antimatter bomb into Section 17 (ha ha) of the sun and thereby prompts a megaflare in the opposite direction - away from the Earth - it wouldn't change conditions on Earth. So it literally doesn't matter to him whether the Helios mission takes place or not.
As this storyline is based on a Japanese novel, I wonder if the author thought about this, or if it was strictly an invention of the two screenwriters, Joe Gannon and Tedi Sarafian (the director's son, working under a pseudonym). Either way, it's idiotic.
Don't waste your time on this movie. The competent model work and VFX by Richard Edlund's company are not sufficient compensation.
OK, somewhere between the gushers' and the haters' comments is the
reality that this isn't a bad movie. Just not a good one.
Clearly the filmmakers loved their source material and tried their best to do it justice. There's plenty of stunning design work, superbly-rendered CGI and overall high production values. Disney might have spent a dismaying quarter of a billion dollars on this hoped-for 'tentpole' entertainment, but at least the money is on the screen.
The actors are decent too, within the confines of the trite dialogue and genre conventions that don't really clarify the plot. As the titular hero, Taylor Kitsch is especially effective as a man of action with a troubled past and not a lot of excess body fat.
The problem is that it's all been done and seen before. When Edgar Rice Burroughs first dreamed of Barsoom, his notions of flying machines held aloft by sunlight, warring tribes fighting with swords and rayguns, and beautiful princesses with combat skills were innovative and helped establish the nascent genre of science fiction and 'planetary romance.' But that was back in 1912, and there's been a lot of plundering of his ideas over the decades since. People like George Lucas and James Cameron readily acknowledge their creative debts to Burroughs and his contemporaries.
The result is that there's absolutely nothing new in this elaborate cinematic construct. All the gorgeous detail and VFX gloss are mere window dressing to a tired tale of swashbuckling, monsters, and battling hordes.
And come on -- not only do modern schoolchildren know that Mars is an arid world with virtually no atmosphere, but a good number probably also are aware that its gravity is about 40% of Earth's. So why is John Carter able to leap HUNDREDS of feet into the air, or swing a giant boulder and chain like a yo-yo? The filmmakers provide no explanation for this idiocy.
I will let them off for the truncated and ridiculous title, though. That smacks of a gutless studio marketing decision.
Good example of squeezing every cent of value out of found locations
and minimal but well-executed special effects. Peter Weller doesn't do
much more than act tough as the beleaguered commander of a
down-to-the-dregs military outpost on a ruined planet, but he's good
enough to keep interest in the narrative.
Mechanical effects of the 'screamers' -- autonomous killer robots which mainly burrow through the ground -- are well-done, and there's some nifty stop-motion work by the Chiodo brothers showcasing a small reptilian version that stalks some of the heroes inside a building.
The science is disappointing for a film set in 2078 on a planet ('Sirius 6B') in another solar system. As the level of technology would demand faster-than-light spaceship drives, as well as robotics that allow machines to self-replicate and even evolve into perfectly counterfeit human forms, there's little evidence of it. No doubt that's due to budgetary limitations. But what's more risible is the made-up mineral being mined there, something called 'berynium', that's supposed to be 'the solution to Earth's energy problem' but has become terribly radioactive(?). Why wasn't it radioactive when they first started digging it up? And what kind of preventative treatment could be contained in the reddish cigarettes everyone smokes? How could its ingredients possibly protect every cell in the human body from the constant bombardment of ionizing radiation? That's just dumb.
The film's not a time-waster, and it's certainly not just a time-killer. Its plot moves well, and there's some bleakly effective cinematography of the wastelands and bombed out industrial structures. Unfortunately a romance between Weller and a female soldier seems trite as well as unlikely, and the story's ending is anticlimactic and dragged out for too long. Many questions about the war and the Screamers remain unanswered.
The only reason I can think of for this film being made is that
apparently it's based on some obscure video game, so the producers must
have figured there was some kind of built-in audience out there
somewhere. Although it delivers the requisite splatter for an R-rated
sci-fi/horror flick, and the visual effects are competent, there is
absolutely no characterization, no humor, and the action is numbingly
repetitive. But I suppose if you're up for a 90-minute slog through
darkness and gore and minimal dialogue, you might enjoy it.
The most dispiriting aspect of the film is its sheer ugliness. There's not much of interest to look at other than the regular splashes of blood. Most scenes are just too dark to make out any detail. Costumes and weapons are generic. All of the mutants look the same: bald, scarred, each with a big pointed bony spike in place of one arm. They're savage and quick but not really scary.
And worst of all: this is another in the seemingly endless modern canon of inexplicably monochrome films that look to have been digitally photographed against green screen, with CG sets and backgrounds added in post production. I hate to have to point out the obvious to these modern filmmakers but THE HUMAN EYE DOESN'T SEE THINGS THIS WAY. We're not dogs. We have color vision, and in reasonable lighting we can see the actual colors of everything around us. The world does not appear grey/brown like in the latest HARRY POTTER installment; nor blue like in the UNDERWORLD series, nor sepia like the new BOOK OF ELI. Please, can somebody besides James Cameron buck this trend?. The sad thing is that cinematographers shoot movies in beautiful rich color, then watch as the director or producers or whoever drain the imagery of color in post production. It's a waste, and makes absolutely zero sense.
Forgive the mundane US title, a poor substitute for the original but
problematic DOPPELGANGER. This 1969 British science-fiction drama finds
producers Gerry and Sylvia Anderson striving to rise above the
kiddie-oriented marionette spectaculars ('Fireball XL-5',
'Thunderbirds') with which they'd achieved TV success. Though based
upon a scientifically ludicrous premise, its solid acting and
imaginative effects make it well worth a look for fans of cinematic
Okay, most school kids who've learned something about space and astronomy know that the orbits of the planets are not circular but elliptical, which renders the notion of a hidden planet on the opposite side of the sun pretty silly. But once we're over that, the storyline does provide some good old-fashioned space adventure, nifty hardware, and not a little 'Twilight Zone'-type eeriness.
When it first came out, my younger brother and I saw this as part of a sci-fi double bill, most likely paired with a Japanese monster movie. The latter was quickly forgotten, but this one made an impression. I especially remember the poetic spaceflight sequence, with its psychedelic visuals and dreamlike music. And we both loved the excellent miniatures by Derek Meddings (famous for his James Bond work), particularly the giant, Saturn 5-like multistage rocket and launching pad, and the futuristic hoverjet that brings American astronaut Roy Thinnes to the Eurosec space facility in Portugal.
Other cool gadgets (an Anderson staple): fake eyeball camera used by spy Herbert Lom; heart-lung-kidney machine that enables the astronauts' hibernation on their trip beyond the sun; ultra-streamlined motor vehicles of the year 2069; and so on. Anderson may not have had a Kubrick '2001' budget, but he squeezed every penny's worth of value out of meticulous production design, costumes, and model work.
Get past the slow first half-hour, and the narrative gains momentum and emotional weight on its way to a sobering and thought-provoking conclusion.
Danny Boyle's film aspires to '2001'-like transcendence but ultimately
disappoints with a confusing final third and some too-gimmicky
It's not just that the fairly linear, science-driven plot abruptly shifts into a horror flick scenario -- this might've still provided an appropriately tense, countdown-to-zero finale. But Boyle unwisely overlays the action with such blurry cinematography and choppy editing that it becomes virtually impossible to follow.
The cast is fine, doing their best with underwritten roles, but it would also have been helpful if screenwriter Alex Garland had provided a bit more back story, e.g., why is the sun expiring, how were the two solar expeditions put together, what has life become like back on earth, etc.
Also -- and this may seem like a minor complaint to some -- if you're taking pains to be scientifically accurate, and indeed, deliberately following in the footsteps of Kubrick and Clarke, it would behoove you to give an explanation for the ship's artificial gravity. I've read that earlier concepts included a centrifuge section, or alternately, that the bomb's payload was so massive it provided adequate gravitational pull, but neither is mentioned. Disappointingly, then, 40 years of advancing space technology and knowledge have not led to better VFX or increased verisimilitude.
The filmmakers' efforts here are appreciated, but it's a shame they fall short of the mark.
Jean Shepherd, Bob Clark, and the entire cast and crew seem to be
trying really hard with this latecomer sequel to "A Christmas Story"
but it just doesn't work.
Now granted, it would be tough for anyone to follow in the footsteps of the beloved characters portrayed so memorably by Darren McGavin (as The Old Man) and Peter Billingsley (as Ralphie) in the original, but the efforts here by Charles Grodin and Kieran Culkin, respectively, are disappointingly feeble. Culkin can be dismissed as merely bland; he's just not much of an actor. Grodin, however, is more problematic. Never the warmest of actors, his skill at playing low-key supporting characters who specialize in dryly delivered asides is unparalleled. But here he's simultaneously trying to pay a tribute to McGavin and convincingly portray a bigger-than-life 'man's man'; in both cases he's not only unconvincing, but actually looks uncomfortable.
Despite the ploddingly episodic script and casting weaknesses, praise should go, once again, to the production design and costuming, nostalgically evoking a bygone era. For some people that may be enough. But overall this a depressing example of filmmakers going to the well once too often.
Let me start off by giving credit where it's due: Gene Kelly and
company put a lot of lovely female pulchritude in this one. Not a
skinny babe in the bunch. That's a big plus for us dirty old men.
However, the script itself is not only misogynistic -- every female character is treated as an object, not a person -- but mostly unfunny. Part of the problem is miscasting. The two male roles should've been reversed: Matthau as the cynical smoothie, and Morse as the naif. Neither actor here is showcased to his best advantage.
The cameos are pretty lame too, with comedy greats like Lucille Ball and Jack Benny largely wasted. The best one has Carl Reiner, who's funny as always in a mainly physical comedy role, but the ending of the sketch is weak.
The dumbest aspect of the whole enterprise is the central notion of Matthau wanting to cheat on his incredibly gorgeous, hot-to-trot wife, played by knockout Inger Stevens. After an eyeful of her I spent the whole rest of the movie muttering to myself about what an idiot he was.
As a time capsule of the 'Swinging Sixties' this might provide some nostalgic amusement. But there are much better sex comedies from the period. Check out Jack Lemmon in HOW TO MURDER YOUR WIFE.
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