Category: Film Review

The Forbidden Planet (1956) 

IMDb meta-data is 1 hour and 38 minutes, rated 7.5 by 53,000 cinematizens.

DNA: Of the time. 

Verdict: A Keeper.  

Tagline: Shakespeare did it. 

A crew lands (a spaceship) where they are not welcome to save survivors (who do not wish to be rescued).  They find the Tin man Robbie with the personalty of Ariel in the body of Caliban. Prospero is Mr Miniver, an icy but ever so polite host.  Honey West as Miranda is such stuff as dreams are made of.  (She had her last IMDb credit fifty years later.) 

Frank ‘Antonio’ Drebin (his last posthumous  credit in 2011) leads the merry crew including Bart Maverick, a cast of television regulars, and a painful comic relief who could and did better in other credits. They are all decked out in grey on gray garage mechanic boiler suits.    

Then they encounter Id, and Id gets ugly. Very. Marvellous son et lumière show.

Though the Krell are the premise, we never see them.  Yet they dominate everything.  

***

What a high risk investment this film must have been at the time. No big name actors, a B-movie genre, an invisible enemy, a psychoanalytic explanation, and the voice of J. Michael Anthony  from the Tin Man.  Conspicuously lacking is any Cold War resonance, which was a staple for Sy Fy of the time. Surprisingly Prospero is a philologist not a physicist.  Again inconsistent with the norms of 1950s Sy Fy, though the storyline was made to fit it. Nor was there a nuclear threat, rather the evil is within us…all!  

The local Dendy, with its eight screens, devoted one Saturday to a Sy Fy revival – May the 4th be with us.  About twenty films were cycled during the day from 10am onward and I chose this one, rather than the big ticket items in the larger theatres Blade Runner, Total Recall, and the Wraith of Khan. (I was tempted by the chance to see Ricardo Montalban’s pectorals again but passed.)  One film was enough for me, and I chose this one.

Forbidden Planet screened in theatre 7 upstairs in the back around the corner, seating sixty, and it was completely sold out. And not all were geriatrics.  Far too many of whom used their phone screens during the feature.  Such is our time.

Here is a curiosity: on You Tube is this film backwards.  Yep.  It runs backward from the credits, both the audio and video.  Yep.  Why, one might ask?  Good question to which there is no answer. 

Judging by the crowds from the Nerd Kingdom about the Dendy on my entry and exit, the day must have been a commercial success.  I can only imagine the work that went into corralling this collection of material.  

My thanks.

Space Milkshake (2012) 

IMDb meta-data is a runtime of 1 hour and 25 minutes, rated 5.6 by 2012 cinemtizens.  

Genre: Sy Fy.

DNA: O’ Canada.

Verdict: Droll, irritating, amusing. 

Tagline: Beware the yellow rubber duck.

Dark Star Quark, Inc has the contract to collect near-earth space debris with its scow, the Regina, and a crew of four: Hobbit, Lana Lane, Mr Sulu, Major Carter, and that other guy.  I know that is five, but we never see but only hear Sulu because he is not a member of the crew.

Major Carter and Hobbit were an item, with no other alternatives, but now she wants someone taller.  New Boy (Five) comes straight from the Corner Gas school of acting, and bumbles around.  Lana keeps to herself, until….

Through their own inattention and incompetence they collect some trash that was…alive!  Not good.  Lana is the first to go, sort of.

There follows an hour of good natured confusion with a denouement.  Though the destruction of earth, inter-dimensional travel, the murder of Lana, artificial humans, and more are surfaced, none of these themes is developed. But the duck has its day!

Moreover, no one seems to mind that the android killed Lana.  Nor is there any explanation of the title.  

On the other hand it is so unpretentious that it is easy to like. No priestly voiceover to lecture the audience on its climate sins, no heroic posturing by a wannabe who isn’t waving a plastic gun, no boy genius with designer fuzz to save the day by adding 2+2….  It was not made to the Hollywood formula aimed at prepubescent boys with arrested development by prepubescent boys with arrested development.

It is compounded of a mixture of Star Gate, Star Trek, Quark, Dark Star, and, let us not forget Corner Gas.  

Subway (1985) with a runtime of 1h 44m, rated 6.5 by 16,000 cinematizens; Le doulos (1962): 1h 48n, rated 7.7 by 12,000; and Ascenseur pour l’échafaud (1958): 1h 31m rated 7.9 by 29,000.

When prowling around streaming outlets I came across these, one after another, during our Cronulla staycation. I watched them in this order.   

Subway has the frenetic energy and mordant wit that director Luc Besson’s films often have. It also has Isabelle Adjani melting the screen.  A tuxedoed thief on the run finds refuge in a Paris Metro station (Châtelet?) where he discovers he is not alone. The plot, which makes no sense, is an excuse for the to’ings and fro’ings.  This is another characteristic of Besson films.  It is all on the surface, but it is fun while it lasts.

Le doulos is Jean-Pierre Melville, the director, out-noiring American film noir. In contrast to Subway this is all serpentine plot. All the threads come together in a downward spiral. Each member of this ensemble is doomed. The moodiness and the movements are compelling in this seedy world of criminals where no one escapes fate.  

By some miracle of city planning there is always a parking place in Paris for the Yank Tanks these villains drive. The title is a slang word for an informer, someone who talks, tattles, through or behind his hat.   

But the best for last is Ascenseur pour l’échafaud, made when the director, Louis Malle, was a boy of twenty-six.  When most that age are making student films of 10 minutes, he directed this feature length masterpiece. Moreover, he did everything against expectations. The elegant, suave, and handsome Maurice Ronet is a reptilian villain, while up and comer Jeanne Moreau is a luminous fallen angel. The close-ups of each of them are unsparing. Sometimes against black backgrounds the characters seem like puppets, and perhaps that is what they are.  Compelled by their own instincts, and unable to control themselves, each, in a different way, is driven to a bad end, along with a pair of innocent bystanders, who are not so innocent by the time the film ends.  

The tension and drama are all the more remarkable because so much of the screen time is confined to an elevator car.  

Moreover, there is a perfect soundtrack from Miles Davis that sets the mood in the middle.  

Did Malle read Somerset Maugham’s Of Human Bondage; it would seem so. 

Krakatit(e) (1948)

IMDb meta-data is 1 hour and 34 minutes, rated 7.3 by 42 cinematizens.  

DNA: Czechoslovak.

Genre: Sy Fy.

Tagline: Boom!

Verdict:  Hard to find but well worth the effort.

 A conscience stricken scientist lies in a coma as he recalls in nightmares his discovery of a powder with the explosive force of the volcano Krakatoa.  The story was published by Karel Ćapek in 1938.  

The cinematography is inventive and at one point our anti-hero watches on screen his own vain efforts to control his invention.  There is a mystery woman who appears and disappears like a dream.  Then there is an American agent (named Oppenheimer [just kidding]) who wants the formula.  In between is a jealous and unscrupulous colleague whom we know is not to be trusted since he does not return library books when they are due. What a rat!  

Relentlessly downbeat. Our scientist is doomed after an explosion of the Big K poisoned him and lies dying while the jumble of his thoughts retraces the steps (some real, others illusory) that brought him to his deathbed.

There are a number of remarkable scenes as his delirium is played out:

• the wax works aristocrats in museum poses
• the menacing D’Hémon with the satanic eyebrows
• his mini-Krakatoa of sex 
• the melting face of the femme fatale 
• the police in German uniforms like ghosts
• the assembly of beer hall hooligans in furs and diamonds.  
• the grasping of krakatit from a dead body
• most of all is the anxiety and torment of the scientist who is eating himself up with guilt

Battle in Outer Space (1959) Uchû daisensô 

IMDb meta-data is a runtime of 1 hour and 30 minutes, rated 5.7 by 1,500 cinematizens

DNA: Japan.

Verdict: Shoot ‘em up! We’re good at that. [Indeed.]

Tagline: The Munchkins are coming! 

No sooner did the Mysterians leave in 1957 than the Munchkins arrived in 1959, setting up a military base on our Moon!  While the Mysterians said they went to Pearl Harbor in peace, these Munchkins skip the soft soap and get right to the zap. Peace is for wimps. They came to conquer.  

It takes one to know one and in response the world Co-Prosperity Sphere unites behind Japan to battle the Munchkins, repeatedly for at least two-thirds of the runtime. Where would we be without the peace-loving Japanese to blow things up? 

In a favourite ploy of cheapskate invaders, the Munchkins exercise mind control over a couple of key individuals to save on make up.  These zombies go around looking vacant when turning off valves that would save the world. Some plumbers they are!

The budget went on models to create effects, and these are very well done. Better even than Gerry Anderson’s toys.  Albeit, the moon buggies looks too much like Oscar Meyer Weinermobiles to take seriously. 

The story has parallels with The Earth versus Flying Saucers of 1956 but even less character development.  There are also reflections of it in the space battles of Star Wars.  

IMDb meta-data is a runtime of 1 hour and 36 minutes, rated 5.4 by 1701 cinematizens.

Genre: MysteryCom.

DNA: Isle of Man.

Verdict: Oh hum. 

Tagline: Oh hum.

With the sledgehammer subtlety of Hollywood the opening scene lays out the film.  Reality is what you believe it is.  Welcome to Fox News and Magaland. 

However it takes another 90 minutes to confirm that thesis. Dr Nandor Fodor (1895-1964), who by the way did exist and made a career of debunking the mysticism of the time, gets drawn into conversation with an illegal Asian immigrant mongoose.  (You read that right.)

On the plus side of the ledger, the acting is fine, the cinematography of the Isle of Man is scrumptious, and the valedictory presence of Dr Emmett Brown is charming.  

On the debt side the story is an empty shell. The syllable ‘Com’ is used above because ‘comedy’ is attributed to it on the IMDb but I did not notice any of it myself.  

I watched it thinking Simon Pegg is a clever writer himself and any project with his touch would be fun. WRONG!  

Dead Men don’t Wear Plaid (1982) Les cadavres ne portent pas de comstard. 

IMDb meta-data is runtime of 1 hour and 28 minutes, rated 6.8 by 23,000 cinematizens. 

Genre: Comedy Noir.

Verdict: One of a kind. 

Tagline: ‘You do know how to dial, don’t you?’   

It all started when she walked into his life, well, in fact she fell into his arms at seeing the headline on the newspaper he was reading: ‘The Dodgers lose again!’  Dem bums! 

Thus begins the Tec’s search for the frenemies of his favourite brunette, Carlotta.  Along the way he enlists Marlowe as a legman, whose motto is ‘Guns don’t kill but love does.’  He also issues the title line.  [No spoiler.]

Partly parody, mostly homage to US film noir of the post-World War II era, as the bumbling Tec follows the trail, none too coherently, meeting, in addition to Humphrey Bogart’s Marlowe, Cary Grant, Alan Ladd, Barbara Stanwick, Bette Davis, Lana Turner, and more in some brilliant cutting.  

When all the fun is done, the closing dedication is the golden touch because it is to all the invisible talents who put the noir into noir, the cinematographers, the camera men, focus pullers, the composers, the musicians, the prop men, the designers, the set builders, the costumers, the audio engineers, and so on.  They put the magic on the screen where it has stayed since.  

I had forgotten how much I liked this movie until I watched it again.  

(T)Raumschiff Surprise – Periode 1 (2004)

IMDb meta-data is runtime of 1 hour and 27 minutes, rated 5.5 by 16,000 cinematizens.

Genre: Sy Fy.

DNA: German.

Verdict:  Crass but fun, in (a few) parts.

Tagline: Move over, Benny Hill.  

‘When the Earth is in peril, who are you going to call?’  Certainly not the (Enter)Surprise.  But well, who else can be sacrificed to the cause?

Nothing works on the good starship Surprise, including the crew, of Groans, Snotty, Smirk, and Captain Kork. The Martians are about to conquer Earth when this crew intervenes, along with the interstellar cab driver who delivered them, because the Captain refused to be beamed Economy class and he didn’t have enough Space Cadet points to upgrade to Business. In extremis the secret and untested weapon is deployed: the time travel sofa!  Sit on it and time passes? Yes, but in which direction?

It takes them three tries to get the right year, leaving behind chaos here and there in a medieval court, in the wild west, and finally Area 51, which is not next door to Area 50!  

The humour entertained the Fraternity Brothers, who have an inflatable Benny Hill doll in their room.  (Don’t ask.)

On the good side, it would be banned in Florida, and there are some good lines.  

When languishing in the slammer, the big handsome taxi driver confesses to another prisoner his failures with women, saying that to please his ex-wife he learned to dance, to play the piano, and to smile at her parents.  Whew!  Yet she still divorced him and took everything, leaving him to eat, sleep, and work in the cab.  Ah, says the other prisoner, leaning close, there are words that will set every woman’s heart ablaze, my friend. ‘What? What!’ asks the stud. ‘Let’s go shopping!’  Sure enough, next chance he gets, the stud tries these magic words, and [censored].  

One hopes there is no Periode 2.  But per the IMDb it was a smash hit in its heimat. 

Les ordres (1974) Orders

IMDb meta-data is runtime of 1 hour and 49 minutes, rated 8.1 by 1,100 cinematizens.

Genre: docudrama. 

DNA: Québécois. 

Verdict: Disquieting.

Tagline: Why?

‘The October Crisis of 1970,’ seen through the eyes of five innocent by-standers who were caught in the tsunami response: one is a union shop steward, his stay-at-home wife, a single father on the dole with custody of two small children, a woman university student, and a male doctor from a health clinic, three men and two women. They along with 500 others were seized and incarcerated without warrant, explanation, trial, or common courtesy: hand cuffed, stripped, strip-searched including ahem…, and verbally and physically abused as they were imprisoned. No indignity was omitted. As far as the police and warders knew, these were dangerous and violent extremists, despite their appearance.  

The details of induction into life in jail are many, and hard to watch, especially knowing that none of the five had anything to do with the events. (Nor did any of the others in the five hundred.) The only thing they have in common was being Québécois, but then so are their jailers.  

While the presentation is low-key and matter of fact, it cannot but remind viewers of Germans rounding up Jews or Latin American dictators sweeping up real or imagined enemies for one-way trips.  They were processed in the underground carpark of football stadium in that best South American style.

It can’t happen (t)here! But it did, and it might again. 

Their homes were torn apart in the search for… no one seems to know what, and that ignorance made the searches even more furious and destructive, while young children were left without a parent as the police hauled away mom or dad.  ‘Not our problem,’ says one officer.  (Neighbours stepped in.)

The five were held from six to twenty days, and put under conspicuous surveillance after release. None of the 500 were charged with anything to do with the kidnapping and murder of the October Crisis.  Though the extra-legal searches did turn up evidence of other crimes, like unpaid traffic tickets, overdue library books, marijuana stashes, and other such high crimes. ‘Apprended insurrection’ not!  Those were the legal magic words used to justify the imposition of martial lawlessness.

The question is why these five and these five hundred?  What list(s) were they on?  The film gives no answer. 

There are extensive entries on the Crisis in the Canadian Encyclopaedia, but these are carefully bland, offering no insight into that question. The literature I could identify concerns the big picture and not these human faces.  

Those handcuffed and bundled away often asked: ‘Why me?’  On the rare occasions when they were answered the response was: ‘Les ordres.’  Makes you wonder whether your own name is on someone’s list.   

The direction and acting are low key throughout, and the telling measured and mesmerising.  It is more a documentary than a drama in presentation.

Whispering Star (2015) Hiso hiso boshi

Runtime of 1 hour and 40 minutes rated 6.5 by 1244 cinematizens

Genre: Sy Fy.

DNA: Japan.

Verdict: Museum pace.

Tagline: all trip, no arrival.

The inside story of UPS (Space Parcel Service) as the android operator traverses the universe to deliver cardboard boxes to the widely dispersed, few remaining human beings in the galaxy.   

The SPS van looks like a humble cottage outside and inside, except for the rocket motors, and the computer guidance system which froths at speaker on bad days. Imagine that, a rocket ship with a leaking faucet, and a moth trapped in the cover diffuser on a neon tube ceiling light.

Space is vast and empty and the deliveries take years. Many wonderful images of the cosmos. 

Strange since Amazon teleportation takes seconds but some people prefer this archaic method of dispatch. The android has a daily routine of cleaning and recording a log. We see this repeatedly. (Hint.) 

When not changing her AA batteries, the Droid does peek in some of the boxes (which are unsealed such is the trust in androids), perhaps wondering, if androids are curious, what could be so special or important as to warrant a ten-year delivery by hand. Only the most mundane objects are revealed: a hat, a pencil, a strip of film with banal images on it, a feather, one wood screw, a blank scrap of paper….   Upon arrival recipients are blasé about the decade long delivery, except for one whose reaction we see through a paper wall like a shadow puppet play. Marvellously done.  

Most of the outdoor footage was shot in the forbidden zone of Fukushima and looks it.  That reference will remind alert cinematizens of Andrei Tarkovsky (sorry about that), and yes on this point there is a resemblance to his Stalker (1979). But I found his palpable contempt for both audience and subject matter distasteful, whereas this treatment was restrained and presented its subjects with respect, even deference. This filmmaker did not watermark the film with a sneer like Tarkovsky.

Black-and-white with a minimal soundtrack. There are one or two shots of colour and a brief stretch of string music in one instance.  

Having said that, it still does not make much sense to me, but perhaps to thee. One review I read went on about Plato’s allegory of the cave, for no good reason that I could fathom.