Reviews

I don't know what to make of this film, except to say that it may be the silliest excuse for a sci-fiction/horror movie ever cobbled together. I got the feeling while I was watching it that the flick was made solely as a vehicle to showcase the three leads, and nothing else. In truth, I have never seen these guys in anything before.

The film is a hash-fest of mistakes and blunders. I can't understand how they could make this, a science fiction movie, and yet do so little research so that they could get things right. The Apollo Program information isn't exactly classified.

And then we get to the monsters: giant, anaerobic spiders with the ability to morph themselves into rocks, even though there isn't any evolutionary reason for them to possess this ability. They're just there, and that's that. I think it would fairly easy to create a much better monster.

And then there is the fact that the spiders tore the Russian flag to bits, and later did the same to the U.S. flag. What, are the Moon creatures fascists who hate both nations?

Even as "Eragon" rode on the, er, dragon's tale of Star Wars, so this arose from the sea to try to bank on Harry Potter. Unfortunately, you have to "best" the original material if you don't want to sink at once and be consigned to the $2.00 movie bargain bin at Wal-Mart.

"Billy Owens is turning 11. Turns out this little rapscallion was born on the 11th day of the 11th month, at 11pm no less, so it ventures to reason he has some powers of the magical variety..."

Well, with credentials like that, it's a dead certainty that he would be able to end a world war, so I suppose that the next stop for Billy is a flick in which he goes back in time and manages to do just that.

I get the sneaking suspicion that either no one has seen this movie, or someone has and thinks that it's too worthless to comment on. Of course, the idea of positing that illegal aliens can save the day for our hero by showing him "how to make it in America" is a questionable plot device at best when the USA is coming apart at the seams over the problem of how to deal with illegals. The only reason I can see that this got made in the first place is because it is a Canadian/United States co-production and Canada is notable for its laxness concerning immigration. It's almost as if this is some sort of propaganda piece intended to create a favorable view of illegals. "Almost" hell. More like "is."

I haven't seen this myself, but I doubt I will.

—and for which our nation and its economy are all paying the price. While there is nothing wrong with technology as such and it has relieved the general workforce of many dangerous and difficult tasks, there can always be too much of a good thing. One of the characters asks Whipple who will be left to buy his products when the jobs have all been wiped out.

A combination of automation and job exporting has brought the manufacturing sector to near-ruin; Detroit, MI and Gary, IN probably are the most obvious examples of this. From being the world's provider we have become the world's customer, and there are enough vacant, crumbling factories across the nation to show that the quest for profits —as in Whipple's case— can bring even the leaders to the day when they must clean out their desks for the last time.

The lovely scenery. That's it.

This is Sean Penn's valentine to a dead, spoiled rich boy-brat's pretensions. Nothing more. McCandless was a cold hearted, selfish creature who seems to have thought that everything should be all about his wants and needs. He whined about how sick our twisted society was and made no attempt to correct anything. He simply scooted off into the back country, where he traveled about, got beaten up, and finally died a needless, useless death.

The one person I found interesting was the railroad bull. Undoubtedly, we were meant to see him as a violent, savage support for the evil old society That Poor Chrissy so righteously despises. I've worked on a railroad and the bulls know what they're up against: many of these freeloaders are not the cheery, story telling hobos of yor-- many are ruthless professional criminals who will kill somebody for five bucks. The bull doesn't necessarily enjoy what he does but he does it because it must be done to protect the railroad, us (think of the merchandise you buy that travels by train,) himself and yes, idiots like Hirsch's McCandless, who never think of how dangerous riding the rails can be.

And in the end, the movie McCandless' journey ended as did the odyssey of the real one-- a miserable, pointless death in the middle of nowhere.

One thing that amuses me is how Chris' worshipers like to blather about how, unlike so many of us, he wasn't content with the 9-5 routine in our allegedly sick society, he lived his life the way he wanted, the way it was meant to be lived, etc., as if the path he took is the only authentic one. And of course, the ones who rant the loudest against our technological society in the process do so while using a computer to post on the Internet. Thus proving that they are hypocritical fools perfectly matched to the arrogant McCandless, a kid with very little to be arrogant about.

From ignorant pantywaist to skilled karate champion- film 1.

From champion to death match participant lacking confidence to confident, merciful champion- film 2.

From reluctant, terrified participant to self confident champion- film 3.

Up, down. Up, down. By the final film, Daniel-san is the height of wishy-washiness. I realize it would have resulted in us having no movie, but come on. There's so much illogicality in this flick that it seems to take place in an alternate universe. Daniel tossing his future to help Miyagi open a Bonsai store? Couldn't Daniel recommend a product more likely to, you know, SELL?

Was the entry form for the tournament a legally binding contract with legal consequences should the signatory be a no-show? Given Kreese's threat in film 1, that's highly unlikely. Even if that were true, LaRusso always had the option to forfeit, relieving him of the need to defend the title and short circuiting the entire revenge plan. And let's face facts, deciding not to defend a title in an 18 and under karate tourney is hardly going to impact one's life for all time.

As to Kreese, this film continues his cardboard cutout persona of the vengeful, evil dude. It's stupid. Were I him, I'd get Daniel away from Miyagi and train him myself, with this in mind: this is a kid who jacked up ALL of Cobra Kai's top fighters, including the best of the best. Daniel became a local celeb in doing so. What could be a greater coup to score than to have HIM join Cobra Kai? Kids would flock to join and Kreese wouldn't be able to open dojos fast enough.

Just more examples of the realm of the senseless these characters inhabit.

I watched this on DVD this evening, and I'm glad I didn't waste my time seeing it in the theater. A lot of people have bombed on it, and now I understand why.

Setting aside the special effects (which were great, I admit,) we must turn to the special defects, primarily the ocean of trite, sentimental mush. Parents are separated, dad's distant because he's busy with his career, wifey has found a new guy, the kids are as distant to their birth dad as he is to his family (in order to force this point down our throats, the son routinely calls dad by his first name, just so we won't imagine they're close or anything.).

Then things start to fall apart worldwide. There is a lovable radio-talk nutcase who is, of course, right about everything that's about to happen; the family (including dad 2, who possesses invaluable skills) are swept-up in these terrifying events, and by the end humanity is kind of sort of saved, dad 2 is nobly sacrificed to open the role of paterfamilias to the birth dad, and the family unit is back together, all huggy-wuggy and ready to embark on the bold new adventure ahead!

Of course we have the obligatory "what makes us human we can't leave all those people to die" speech and a scientist involved in a secondary romance; we also get the seemingly heartless politician who, in my opinion, is really the voice of common sense.

I hate this film, and I won't be watching it again. Once more, just to be clear: i'm glad as hell I didn't see this in the theater. As bad as the story is, I don't think even big-screen treatment would have helped.

**** for the special effects. And that's all.

I fear that this isn't the end of the series.

It pulled $12,000,000 on release, coming in #1 at the box office. Now, since it looks like it's going to do well already, there will be no motivation for the filmmakers to close down this particular cash-cow. They've obviously got the old '80's horror formula down pat: just keep releasing the same film over and over with a few variations and there will be no limit to how many checks the studio will be able to cash. With that formula, I will not be a bit surprised if, twenty years from now, we'll be seeing THE FINAL DESTINATION CHAPTER XVIII: THIS TIME IT'S FINAL."

I note that Devon Sawa wasn't in the credits. Apparently he's smarter than I gave him credit for, because I'd bet even-Steven that he was offered a role of some sort and turned it down.

This is easily the best episode of Night Gallery, in my opinion, and I've watched it several times. The story has already been described in rich detail by other commenters, so I think I can do without mentioning the particulars.

The acting is first-rate from all concerned and the sets (utilizing the studio's "back-lot village") are superb. When Mr. Sharsted leaves the house, take a good look at the surroundings-- the "Foreign Wine and Spirit Merchant" shop looks utterly sepulchral, with its arched, tunnel-like entrance and lack of windows; the establishment next door, "The Exchange Dining Rooms" hardly looks any more inviting, and the Corn Exchange, with its adjoining steps and open square before it, reminded me of an arena (which I don't think was accidental.)

Then there are the characterizations: the old lamplighter, apparently trying to be helpful but later mocking; Mr. Sanderson, cheerful at meeting-up with an old friend in Sharsted, who is horrified to find that Sanderson is still carrying-out his wretched business; war profiteer Amos Drucker, bent over and scuttling along like a Robber-Crab; William Sharsted Sr., who looked to my eye like a stereotypical pirate; and of course Abel Joyce, who in his dark coat, cravat and top hat, carries himself erect with an almost regal bearing, walking slowly and deliberately as if he KNOWS he's head-and-shoulders above the rest of this crew of low-lifes.

One of the finest things about this episode is the fact that they could do so much with what they had, that they could create a slice of hell in a late 19th Century setting WITHOUT the use of computer-generated effects.

I saw this on the recent DVD release and I must say that the actors all did a good job-- they delivered their lines well and their physical characterizations that accompanied same matched. All in all, I have no problem there.

The ending, however, ruined it for me. Chris (Vincent Van Patten) finally succeeds in hitting pay dirt, if you will-- he finds a rectangular lid that is chained shut and breaks the lock.

SPOILER:

The thing opens slowly, the kid backs himself into a corner and looks suitably terrified. Up pops the farmer who says "Surprise!" and starts laughing.

I presume that the idea is that this is the old guy's grave, meaning that when he is shown at the farmhouse he's merely a specter. But the way Carradine is positioned in the hole relative to its edge makes it look like he's standing on a ladder. If that was what it was SUPPOSED to be and this was just a cruel trick on the farmer's part, then they shouldn't have bothered, as it lowers it to the status of one of the unfunny vignettes Jack Laird insisted on.

This example of poor blocking kept this from being a great segment.

It's hard to understand the thinking of the creatures who made this thing. As everyone who's seen it is aware, the film's attitude toward Gays is utterly vile, but it is in keeping with opinions of the time-- it wasn't that long ago that the American Psychological Association decided that homosexuality isn't a mental illness (it is truly hilarious that the narrator labels it "contagious.")

One of the worst things about this film is that the filmmakers were so ignorant of the subject matter, and yet promoted this as an educational film. In doing so, they put the boys who were their intended audience MORE at risk, not less. Had they bothered to do the research, they might have found that many molesters are actually heterosexual-- some having families of their own; that the average Gay male does NOT engage in this behavior, and finally that, far from the *ahem* Gay men in cars shown in the film being the significant threat, that spot is reserved for people the boy already knows, and can include clergymen, Boy Scout leaders, neighbors and even friends and family members. Advice to be careful if the adult seems too friendly is useless in such a case.

I read a book several years ago about sexual abuse in the Scouting movement. One of the men the author profiled was one Thomas Hacker, who began to molest boys in the Scouts in 1961. A film like this must have been a godsend to men like him. What boy in 1961 would suspect the Scoutmaster of having designs on him after watching this?

When I first heard about this film, I was singularly unimpressed. I knew that it had suffered a disastrous opening week, and that it was consigned to the Bermuda Triangle of video stores out there, places where bad movies often disappear forever.

Then I watched it. Okay, there's no question that the Columbine Massacre and imagery thereof damaged the film's chances-- panicking teens at a school dance, the floral memorial for two murder victims being run-over. Utterly tasteless. Check. We all get it. As to when the film was released, it was a bad call on the part of marketing, but they likely had no choice but to go ahead and release it. The longer it sat in the can, the less chance it had of doing ANY business.

Today this movie deserves to be evaluated on its own merits, all these years later.

The film concerns the intrusion by the supernatural into the non-life of Anton Tobias, motivation-less, clueless, dope-smoking, TV-addicted, addle-pated teen. I'll admit to having had a heavy crush on former teen throb turned has-been Devon Sawa (I used to think he was really cute-looking, unlike now) but I personally think his acting in this was somewhat overblown. This is NOT to be seen as an attempt to lambaste him completely, since much of what he does actually works-- I laughed out loud as the hand throws him over the porch-railing of Molly's house and he jack knifes to his feet, as well as the battle-for-the-TV-remote (and if he didn't use springboards for the porch scene, Sawa must have been very athletic at this time in his life.) Anton seems to inhabit some bizarre alternative dimension, where stoning and slacking and television addiction are regarded as perfectly normal pursuits for a teenaged boy, as is walking down the street in his underwear and entering a friend's house via a basement window. Meanwhile, the kid's parents are completely uninterested in what "Our little Scooter" (as Mrs. Tobias calls him) is up to, presumably content for him to do nothing for the rest of his life.

In terms of humor, it is left to Seth Green and Elden Henson to really carry the film as Anton's understandably laid-back and later undead slacker friends Mick and Pnub, respectively, and due to the fact that they are such good actors, they do it easily. In fact, even critics who unreservedly hate this movie usually acknowledge their contribution to it as being head-and-shoulders above the rest. Even before their zombification, Mick seems to be the more easygoing of the pair while Pnub is delightfully snide-- the big guy (Henson is built like an icebox) even takes a sneering slap at the group Hanson, as the film was made when the three Okie boys with girl hair were still inexplicably popular.

Jessica Alba as the love interest was a very good choice for obvious reasons, and I was amused by her obliviousness to the fact that something is seriously wrong with Anton when he goes to her house.

Anton's truck-mechanic neighbor and buddy, Randy, is played by Jack Noseworthy, looking considerably more muscled-up than he did just two years earlier in his turn as Justin, the overly-enthusiastic engineer on the Lewis & Clark in the movie "Event Horizon." Noseworthy, a professionally trained actor who is well known for his work on the stage, has no trouble here, and has plenty of good lines-- my favorite exchange is when Anton pleads with Randy for information about the devil because Randy listens to "Devil Rock" and "You MUST have picked something up about the guy!" Randy, by now probably realizing that he's dealing with an idiot or a lunatic (or perhaps both,) reminds Anton that it's JUST MUSIC. If anything, Randy joins Mick and Pnub as the collective voices of reason, for all the good THAT does.

Vivica Fox is Debbie, the druidic priestess who has dedicated herself to finding and capping the demon, now made all the more urgent by the approach of a demonic sabbath of sorts. She is the spirit of tough-as-nails determination personified. Given her language and toughness, one wonders why she doesn't just go into the infernal regions and challenge His Infernal Majesty to a no-holds-barred wrestling match. I get the feeling that Hell would have a new sign replacing "All hope abandon, ye who enter here," and it would read "UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT, MORONS!"

Let me add here that Anton's statement that the hand makes him do things he doesn't want to do is almost a verbatim repeat from the Night Gallery 2nd Season episode "The Hand of Borgus Weems."

What else is really good about this film? I'd say that the visuals are excellent-- the inside of the Tobias family's house, for example, looks weirdly paranormal and menacing from the start and with its dark woodwork, dark green walls and narrow spaces upstairs, imparts a feeling of claustrophobia-- perfect for a film in which a killer is on the loose in town and no one knows who he is (yet.) The photography outdoors, particularly in relation to the sky, looks desaturated at times, but this just emphasizes the action.

Personally, I liked the soundtrack, as well. One of my favorite funny scenes involves Anton awakening to the strains of BTK's "Peppyrock," throwing off his earphones in disgust, and putting on his Sony tape player, which begins blaring the exact same music. He smiles, satisfied.

I bought this on the strength of its negative reputation and was, as the cliché has it, pleasantly surprised. Expecting outright garbage, I stumbled on a horror comedy gem that I'll be watching many times. And remember, as Randy tells us, "Idle hands-- are the Devil's playground."

Professor Peabody is teaching a seminar on mythology at Miskatonic University, and makes it plain that his opinion of the subject matter couldn't be any lower. He airily dismisses superstition as "Balderdash," commenting to one of his students that "Ancient man was out making sacrifices to nonexistent gods" when he should have turned his faculties to harnessing the elements.

Alas, the Prof ends-up picking on the wrong gods, who take a dim view of his view of them. They are, of course, the "Old Ones" of H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulu Mythos, and the professor insults them and then accidentally invokes them with a spell he reads aloud from the Necronomicon. Their vengeance is fairly grotesque but the episode manages to end on a light note anyway.

Carl Reiner is superb as Peabody, the man who just doesn't know when to shut up (there is a lull in the proceedings, indicating that if he'd just quit while he was ahead, the Old Ones would have let him off the hook.) He's also the professor who constantly cracks jokes which are completely unfunny. The students who are identified by name are the In joke-- the names are connected to Lovecraft: Mr. Derleth, Mr. Bloch, and Mr. Lovecraft himself. The latter is very well portrayed by Johnnie Collins III, who was a dead ringer for Billy Mumy. He is very good-- his face expresses perfectly his growing sense of alarm as he seems to realize what is really happening.

All in all, very good.

--that this was intended as a hoax when it was made. Its "story" is so disjointed and its "effects " are so laughably shoddy that I can't really believe that the filmmakers were serious about this. I think a good indicator that this was intended as a laugh is the drawing of a UFO on a piece of lined notebook paper that is clearly being held up so the cameraman can shoot it. Apparently they didn't have an easel, good paper or a competent artist! Where the film truly goes off the rails is when the host begins blathering about the aliens being from planet Ummo. Nothing really leads up to it-- they just introduce it without so much as a how do you do! This is one that will have you laughing for real!

I didn't think I'd like this film when I first heard about it-- it sounded altogether too bizarre for me. Then I watched it on the Web and I found that, weird as it is, grotesque as it is, downright horrific as it is, I enjoyed it. Personally, I think it would have made a dynamite feature length film if Mr. Cunningham could have crafted a serviceable script for it.

I was ready for it to be truly frightening, but I was completely disarmed by the beginning of the film, the way Johnny babbles like a baby to the doctor. That actually made me smile. Then we meet Elvis (after the credits, such as they are,) and he's nothing more than a scared, twitchy Chihuahua. Johnny goes into his rave-dancing in his chair and begins to morph. Later, his dad yells at him.

By the time the film ended, I felt nothing but sympathy for Johnny and Elvis, and little but contempt for Johnny's parents. To me, there's a moral here: Johnny changes and yet is perfectly harmless. His parents don't change but are in their own way grotesque.

*SPOILERS HEREIN* I picked up the DVD of this film a couple of days ago. I've watched it three times. This is without a doubt one of the greatest horror films I've ever seen. As other posters have noted, the tension never really lets up. The only moment that really made me laugh is when Holly in the cabin is stretching and falls over. Other than that, nothing struck me as humorous in any way.

The scene where the tunnel starts to collapse shook me a bit. I'm not really claustrophobic, but I swear I felt a bit of panic watching that.

The creatures were excellent. They were thoroughly threatening and single-minded: "kill-eat-protect the community" was all they knew. As horrific as their behavior was, they reminded me of the Morlocks in H.G. Wells's novel "The Time Machine": not truly evil, merely the products of biological evolution catering to adaptation to the environment.

The film has some of the finest production values I've ever seen. From the choice of actors to the monster makeup to the use of green-screen projection and the (few) solid sets, it all came together.

I have to admit that I didn't like the ending, which taken at face-value was a complete downer. I wanted to have at least one of the party succeed, but then again, life itself very frequently hands us a bad hand.

Rod Serling was very concerned about prejudice and cruelty in society. In this episode, he gives us both in the form of a vicious, obsessed maniac who is out to ruin everyone whom he considers evil; moreover, he has determined that he has the power to mark all evil people so that they will be instantly recognizable, as well as doomed, by said mark. In fact, Oliver Crangle DOES have that ability, and uses it-- only to find out, to his great surprise, who the truly evil is. Not "are," "is." For his Crangle, Serling chose one of the very best actors around, Theodore Bikel. He is excellent here, playing Crangle as a man who is at once cruel, vicious and intolerant of other people's errors, but who nevertheless displays a sense of humor. This is one of my favorite episodes.

I'm wary whenever I read that a film is a "documentary." The term seems to be used rather loosely these days-- some people even apply it to Michael Moore's offerings (even when he has contradicted that notion.) A film like this is not a documentary. It is a propaganda set-piece intended to make the hippie generation look like heroes, whether they were or not. Personally, I don't think that theirs' is a legacy to be very proud of.

Mr. Talbot was a typical campus anti-war protester of the time, so it only makes sense that he would paint "his" generation in the best possible light. This, to say the least, detracts from the balance one would expect of an authentic documentary.

As an aside, it's always amused me that it was the radical Left that practically destroyed the Democratic Party's chances at the Chicago Convention in 1968-- and thus paved the way and rolled out the red carpet for Richard M. Nixon.

This film got an entry in Harry and Michael Medved's book, "The Golden Turkey Awards." As you might expect, they ran the film down. As you might also expect, they completely missed the sociological implications in the story, setting their sights on its being a monster movie (it's in the chapter entitled "The Worst Vegetable Movie of All Time.") But anyone who's actually seen this and thought about it knows better. The plot actually concerns how quickly friendships can disintegrate in stressful situations. The characters in this film might have all survived had they hung together and looked out for one another. Instead, greed, arrogance, vanity and other unlovely traits drove wedges among them. In that sense, the mushroom threat was only a plot device to get this little community to fall apart.

I recently bought this on the new DVD release and I'm very glad I did. It's now a favorite film of mine.

I'll give this one a 10; I wish I'd seen this years ago. The film documents the decision to make the tests, the deportation of the Bikini Islanders to a much smaller island that couldn't support them, the tests themselves, and the aftermath. The latter is poignantly shown by the interview with a naval veteran, Mr. John Smitherman, who witnessed the tests and was poisoned with radiation and lived out his later years suffering horrendously. His injuries are the stuff of some nightmare science-fiction film. Unfortunately, they weren't fictional.

There is some footage of Admiral William Blandy, USN, who carried out the tests. I've been told that he became contaminated at the Baker test as well. He died only 8 years later.

The naive stupidity of the Navy is paraded for all to see. For me, the most haunting moment is at the end, where we hear Mr. Smitherman's voice-- we see sailors sitting and talking, and some look at the camera while grinning, while over all of this plays haunting, dirge-like music that brings home the truth of Mr. Smitherman's remarks: Crossroads was undoubtedly the beginning of a hideous slow death for many of these people.

This item consists of 3 DVDs: Operation Tumbler-Snapper, Operation Hardtack and At Ground Zero. Outside of the usual footage of bomb detonations, there is a lot of narration, most of it an attempt to convince the viewer that the participants in these tests were not harmed in any way. It's difficult to tell if this is naiveté due to ignorance or callousness born of expediency. In any event, I could feel myself getting madder as I watched the soldiers in their foxholes standing up on command and taking a faceful of radioactive dust. Today we know them as the "Atomic Soldiers," who were shamelessly lied to and subsequently shamefully neglected.

On the other hand, there is some stuff here that is actually grimly amusing. The entire business of Civil Defense falls into this category-- these folks really believed there'd be someone left alive in his little white safety helmet to man the Civil Defense vehicles and rush out to aid the victims of an atomic war. The need for a family fallout shelter was also touched upon: after an effects test involving houses, cars, etc., the narrator tells us that a shelter can provide protection, as we see that the mannequins sheltered are all in one piece. However, said narrator later admits that, as this was a test involving kilotons, weapons employing megatons could be expected to do more damage.

I consider this set worth the viewing, if only because of the Government-sponsored nonsense it shows us. If you're nostalgic for the 1950s, this ought to cure you.

There's a lot of worthless garbage on TV, but until I actually saw this I would never have believed that we'd reached the point where such voyeuristic filth as this could get on the air and remain there.

The whole concept of "busting cheaters" in this way is utterly ludicrous. If you are only someone's girlfriend or boyfriend, you do not own the other person. Who they want to see is not any of your business, and it works the other way as well. This show for all intents and purposes acts as if it's a crime to go out with someone else.

The hosts strike me as the sleaziest low-lifes ever, and it says a lot when such things can make a living doing things like this.

If you're a fan of this show, you obviously don't care about civility or real morals to ANY degree, and you are to be pitied.

I think the best way to describe this film is --you should pardon the expression-- "pedestrian." It's fairly typical of the dross that came out of the MGM film-mill.

As long as the Gang was doing its thing for the Hal Roach Studios, the quality remained high, primarily because Roach understood children and knew how to work with them. Once the transfer to the mammoth MGM complex was affected, the kids appear to have been treated as mere product themselves, which must have been demoralizing.

The stories became duller, too, and concentrated more on moralizing lessons than humor (see the ghastly "Robot Wrecks," if you doubt.) The later works simply are not funny.

Rounding-out the disaster was the loss due to natural attrition of some key figures: Spanky McFarland, Carl "Alfalfa" Switzer, and Tommy Bond. Froggy Laughlin and Mickey Gubitosi simply had shoes too big for them to fill, and expecting the whining Freddie "Slicker" Walburn to replace Bond was an impossibility from the outset.

This film was a part of a sad slide into oblivion for a once great comedy troupe.