I've seen a few film serials, and thus far I'm not a fan. But, to fancy oneself a film buff, I suppose at least some must be endured--and I stress "endured," being that many, such as this one, "Flash Gordon," go on for thirteen-or-so repetitive chapters, running up to several hours in total length. "Flash Gordon" is of special historical importance as, perhaps, the most popular and celebrated of Hollywood's "golden age" serials from the mid-1930s to the mid-1940s. It's included in America's National Film Registry for a reason. I think my problem is with the form, which has more in common with television episodes than with feature-length cinema. This is more "Star Trek" the TV show, say, than "Metropolis" (1927). Of course, New Hollywood filmmakers grew up on this fluff, which was aimed primarily at matinee-attending boys, and so eventually "Flash Gordon" and its ilk came to closely resemble the feature film and, namely, those involving George Lucas, including the Indian Jones and Star Wars franchises. Indeed, "Flash Gordon" was ahead of the curve of our current age of cinematic franchises, shared universes and endless reboots. Born of a comic strip and previously adapted for radio, the film serial went on to spawn two sequels, "Flash Gordon's Trip to Mars" (1938) and "Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe" (1940), as well as TV series and a 1980 film.
Thus, I appreciate its historical significance, but I struggle to appreciate this even as mindless entertainment. The designs, effects, performances and plots are cheesy and as monotonous as the inevitable cliffhanger at the end of an episode and its equally-inevitable resolution at the beginning of the next one. There's little in the way of imaginative sci-fi visuals, either, with obvious and poor special effects, enough hidden passages to make one wonder if they stumbled into a haunted-house picture, eavesdropping, double crossing and other soap-opera antics, English-speaking aliens surrounded by either Art Deco designs or laboratories ripped-off from Universal's Frankenstien films, and the usual exotic "othering" including villainous ethnic stereotypes. I mean, "Emperor Ming" of the planet "Mongo," where they strike gongs, for crying out loud.
But, don't get me wrong; it's not as though any of the other characters have any dimensionality or sophistication to them, either. Consequently, characters change loyalties and goals at the drop of a hat. Flash is your typical, cardboard cutout, vacuous adventurer meant as the hero for the young-male spectator to identify with. Apparently, he's addicted to getting into fights, which of course he always wins, and he's catnip to the ladies. One of these women and the other part of the picture's idealized Arian-blonde coupling, Dale, is even worse--a damsel-in-distress trope who is constantly fainting and screaming when not spouting characteristically-insipid dialogue or projecting her one anxious impersonation of acting. And, yes, the alien women are more interesting; at least, Princess Aura can hold her own in a skirmish, and their outfits offer sex appeal--and along the same lines as when Flash lacks clothes over much of his muscular frame. Relatively racy stuff for a picture released under the tyranny of the Hays Code. And, since it's sci-fi, there's something of a mad doctor--although, like the other characters, he's blander than the wallpaper.
That the production values here are claimed to be superior to those of other chapter plays is discouraging. There is the occasional, if unmotivated, canted angle, shadowy lighting, POV shot, or composition framed by foreground objects. The repetition required some innovation, or at least variety, in editing transitions, including wipes. When the program does, perhaps, try more-original ideas, they tend to be ridiculously slipshod, such as encounters with the "Shark Men" (guys wearing swim caps) "Hawk Men" (guys wearing fake wings) and "Lion Men" (just guys)--and they're all white men, including Ming. Or, there's Flash mixing it up with an "octosak" (an octopus, essentially), some sort of claw monster, an "orangopoid" (a guy in a monkey costume) and a fire dragon. At best, this junk is laughable. And when at their laziest, merely "giant" iguanas show up, or a bear with a nose ring, or just a plain tiger--sorry, I mean, "tigron."
Otherwise, there's some blatant imitation of "Metropolis" in the employment of closed-circuit television-like screens, although their use here along with radio for communication, in addition to surveillance, had me hoping for more-intriguing self-reflexivity (indeed, another serial I recently viewed, "Adventures of Captain Marvel" (1941), more fully developed this notion), and there's the turning of clock-like hands to operate the radium-fueled atom furnaces. Heck, Flash even instigates a proletariat revolt in the plant to further recycle elements from Fritz Lang's silent masterpiece. Moreover, as if copying the Frankenstein franchise weren't enough, invisibility is borrowed from another of Universal's monster series--apparently, just a side project the scientist happened to be working on in his spare time between saving Earth from imminent destruction, trying to contact and get him and his crew back home, and repeatedly saving Flash from his continual life-threatening predicaments. It's only fitting that other filmmakers like Lucas came along to imitate this imitation. Give Flash a lightsaber instead of a sword in which to swashbuckle with in space, and he's basically Luke Skywalker.
Thus, I appreciate its historical significance, but I struggle to appreciate this even as mindless entertainment. The designs, effects, performances and plots are cheesy and as monotonous as the inevitable cliffhanger at the end of an episode and its equally-inevitable resolution at the beginning of the next one. There's little in the way of imaginative sci-fi visuals, either, with obvious and poor special effects, enough hidden passages to make one wonder if they stumbled into a haunted-house picture, eavesdropping, double crossing and other soap-opera antics, English-speaking aliens surrounded by either Art Deco designs or laboratories ripped-off from Universal's Frankenstien films, and the usual exotic "othering" including villainous ethnic stereotypes. I mean, "Emperor Ming" of the planet "Mongo," where they strike gongs, for crying out loud.
But, don't get me wrong; it's not as though any of the other characters have any dimensionality or sophistication to them, either. Consequently, characters change loyalties and goals at the drop of a hat. Flash is your typical, cardboard cutout, vacuous adventurer meant as the hero for the young-male spectator to identify with. Apparently, he's addicted to getting into fights, which of course he always wins, and he's catnip to the ladies. One of these women and the other part of the picture's idealized Arian-blonde coupling, Dale, is even worse--a damsel-in-distress trope who is constantly fainting and screaming when not spouting characteristically-insipid dialogue or projecting her one anxious impersonation of acting. And, yes, the alien women are more interesting; at least, Princess Aura can hold her own in a skirmish, and their outfits offer sex appeal--and along the same lines as when Flash lacks clothes over much of his muscular frame. Relatively racy stuff for a picture released under the tyranny of the Hays Code. And, since it's sci-fi, there's something of a mad doctor--although, like the other characters, he's blander than the wallpaper.
That the production values here are claimed to be superior to those of other chapter plays is discouraging. There is the occasional, if unmotivated, canted angle, shadowy lighting, POV shot, or composition framed by foreground objects. The repetition required some innovation, or at least variety, in editing transitions, including wipes. When the program does, perhaps, try more-original ideas, they tend to be ridiculously slipshod, such as encounters with the "Shark Men" (guys wearing swim caps) "Hawk Men" (guys wearing fake wings) and "Lion Men" (just guys)--and they're all white men, including Ming. Or, there's Flash mixing it up with an "octosak" (an octopus, essentially), some sort of claw monster, an "orangopoid" (a guy in a monkey costume) and a fire dragon. At best, this junk is laughable. And when at their laziest, merely "giant" iguanas show up, or a bear with a nose ring, or just a plain tiger--sorry, I mean, "tigron."
Otherwise, there's some blatant imitation of "Metropolis" in the employment of closed-circuit television-like screens, although their use here along with radio for communication, in addition to surveillance, had me hoping for more-intriguing self-reflexivity (indeed, another serial I recently viewed, "Adventures of Captain Marvel" (1941), more fully developed this notion), and there's the turning of clock-like hands to operate the radium-fueled atom furnaces. Heck, Flash even instigates a proletariat revolt in the plant to further recycle elements from Fritz Lang's silent masterpiece. Moreover, as if copying the Frankenstein franchise weren't enough, invisibility is borrowed from another of Universal's monster series--apparently, just a side project the scientist happened to be working on in his spare time between saving Earth from imminent destruction, trying to contact and get him and his crew back home, and repeatedly saving Flash from his continual life-threatening predicaments. It's only fitting that other filmmakers like Lucas came along to imitate this imitation. Give Flash a lightsaber instead of a sword in which to swashbuckle with in space, and he's basically Luke Skywalker.