A Satisfying Bar Graph

(Over 1,900 of these are shorts.) 
 

A Lifetime of Rewatches (Thus Far)

 

Ragtime Remake

Idea: A new version of Ragtime, but it's about a disaster that requires everyone on Earth to pull together and create billions of rags, then use them to clean up the planet. Makes heavy use of ragtime music. 

As I was writing, I had Gemini make a poster. My prompt: 

Create a movie poster for a remake of Ragtime, except this time the movie is about the people of earth using rags to clean up the world. Feel free to come up with an appropriate crew and cast for the poster credits. The poster's tagline should be "From Rags...New Riches" 

Simian Shelf Actualization

I'm going ape for my new movie shelves. 
 

Carpenter Makes a Shelf

I have now obtained all of John Carpenter's films. (Not pictured: Dark Star and Elvis, which are on the shelf above.) They're displayed here with action figures of Keith David as Frank Armitage (They Live), Adrienne Barbeau as Stevie Wayne (The Fog), Christine the Plymouth Fury (Christine), and three alien invaders (They Live). 
 

Felled by Fellini

 

Do you mock me, sir? 

A few days ago, I completed a major reorganization of our theatre room. Yesterday, not content with my work, I set about re-sorting some of my discs and adding themed decorations to the shelves. 

Suddenly, something heavy fell from above, slamming right into the bridge of my nose. I was so stunned that I didn't even yell; I was too dazed. A second later, the pain hit; it was severe enough that I wondered if something had broken my nose. When I touched it, causing an even worse flare-up of pain, my fingers came away covered with blood. 

I scurried to the bathroom and tenderly applied tissue to the wound to stanch the flow of blood, then returned to the scene of the accident. There on the floor was my prized Criterion Fellini box set--the culprit. I must have jostled the shelves, and the set, which had been perched with other Criterion sets on high, tilted over and struck its blow. 

I have now secured the Fellini in a better position. I'm just glad it didn't fall on Sylvia. 

Thanks to Stephen for the inspiration for this post's title. 

Bruce Campbell vs. the Blobs

 

Bruce would have been great in a Blob sequel or remake. But then, he's great in everything. 

Themes and Nanogenres Mid-Year Check-In

Letterboxd's themes and nanogenres tracking is a fun idea, but it's taking a long time to tag the hundreds of thousands of films on the site. Hence, I'm sure I've seen more than 33 "Moving Relationship Stories" this year. 

I feel kind of accused by "Intense Violence and Sexual Transgression" appearing in my top ten themes. I don't shy away from that sort of thing, but I'm not actively looking either. My affection for the horror genre probably has something to do with it. 
 

Masters of Their Universe

Masters of the Universe (Travis Knight, 2026) delivered the kind of goofy, unhinged fun I haven't experienced in quite the same way since Flash Gordon (Mike Hodges, 1980). 

Based on the Mattel action figure toys released in 1982, Masters of the Universe tells the story of Adam Glenn (Nicholas Galitzine), who is determined to find the mythical Sword of Power and in doing so save his home dimension, Eternia, from the skullduggery of Skeletor (Jared Leto). 

But fifteen years after arriving on Earth as a child--hidden there to escape Skeletor--Adam hasn't had any luck. Instead, he's grown up, making the best of things by taking an office job in Oklahoma City. He works in Human Resources, and his affable, charming personality makes him a beloved, if eccentric, figure among his colleagues. Adam can't seem to lie, and he speaks earnestly about his quest to anyone who will listen. They think he's either role-playing or insane. But soon enough Eternia comes calling, and Adam's quest moves into high gear. Can mild-mannered HR drone Adam retrieve the Sword of Power and become the kind of hero who defeat Skeletor, his right-hand woman Evil-Lyn (Alison Brie), and their horde of monstrous minions? 

Of course he can, and does. What's important, as ever, lies in how the tale is told. And this time around, the tale is told with tongue planted firmly in cheek. The screenplay is full of clever gags, the action is well-structured, well-executed, and essential to moving the story forward, the actors are clearly having tremendous fun, and the whole thing is so genuine and wholesome that I fell in love with the film about five minutes in and never fell out. 

Some highlights:

• The brilliant origin story of many of the ridiculous character names
• The characterizations of the chief villains, Skeletor and Evil-Lyn, captured in clever dialogue, performance, and special effects--I never once thought of Skeletor as a CGI creation, but always as a full-fledged, delightful villain in the over-the-top style of old serial villains from the 1940s
• Camila Mendes as competent, steel-nerved warrior bestie Teela
  
• Idris Elba as Man-at-Arms, a fallen warrior lost to alcoholism in the wake of Eternia's fall, who reluctantly answers the call to destiny once more
• Two of the most satisfying and delightful post-credits scenes I've seen in quite some time
  

As far as modern takes on old franchises go, I'd put this one right up there with Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves.

A movie based on a toy line has no right to be this good. IT HAS THE POWERRRRRR

An Uncanny Obsession

The very best horror films are also tragedies. Obsession (Curry Barker, 2025) will haunt anyone who ever pined for someone beyond their reach; anyone who realized too late their true love was there all along; anyone who had to bear the guilt of not returning the love of someone they merely liked. 

Such is the tragedy of Bear, who loves Nikki; Nikki, who sees Bear as a little brother; and Sarah, who loves Bear. And Bear again, for not realizing that last truth until it's too late to even ponder it. And Ian, trying to be the best friend he can to the others, bewildered, concerned, helpless, powerless, and doomed. 

The uncanny is the most potent form of horror. It is malevolence for the sake of malevolence, striking out at the vulnerable, wreaking anguish just because it can and for no other reason. Bear, Nikki, Sarah, and Ian are all demonstrably good people who genuinely care for each other; their friendships, had the uncanny not intruded, could have ebbed and flowed into something more or something less; whatever happened would have been better than this modern variation of "The Monkey's Paw." 

The scariest thing about Obsession is how real it feels. The uncanny takes the form of the banal here--capitalist trinkets selling dreams for handfuls of change, complete with disclaimers and retro branding for nostalgic appeal. Break the One Wish Willow and your wish will come true--but we keep forgetting that in the fables, wishes never quite turn out the way you expect. In life as it is in horror. 

I really cared for these four young people, though I knew they were doomed from the start. The knowledge doesn't ease the heartache. Yes, this is a fiction, a scary parable--but it's a mirror of the fear and chaos that disrupts lives from out of nowhere. It happens to the luckiest of us, somewhere, sometime, and if it hasn't happened to you yet, just wait a while; it will. 

3D Man

Here I am back in 2017, when I didn't worry about catching a virus in movie theatres. Better days. 
 

I Never Left You Hanging

Today, with some help from Sylvia, I installed a clothes drying rod. Zounds! I exceed myself. 

I used the following tools for this mad mission: 

• Drill
  
• Hammer
• Screwdriver
• Allan wrench
  
• Pliers 
• Level
• Pen
  

Note the extension bar with holes! I can hang action figures and starships from this simply by threading fishing line through the holes. Bonus! 

 

The Extra Special Guest Star

 Something occurred to me while watching the first and second seasons of Columbo. In multi-part film and television stories--basically all film and television stories save anthology series and stand-alone films without sequels--producers will often cast a stable of actors multiple times as different characters within those stories. 

In the James Bond films, for example, multiple actors have played characters such as M, Q, Moneypenny,  Bill Tanner, Felix Leiter, Blofeld--and even Bond himself. 

Roger Moore's Bond worked for two Ms, but neither he nor Moneypenny remarked upon their boss' change in appearance. Nor did Bernard Lee's M remark on Bond's change in appearance from On Her Majesty's Secret Service to Diamonds Are Forever to Live and Let Die. 

This is, of course, because characters are played by different actors in different productions all the time. We, the audience, don't remark on it, so why would the characters? 

Consider the inverted case: a guest actor appears several times during a television series, playing different roles. On Star Trek, for example, Diana Muldaur played Doctor Ann Mulhall in "Return to Tomorrow" and Doctor Miranda Jones in "Is There in Truth No Beauty?" Years later, she played Doctor Katherine Pulaski throughout the second season of Star Trek: The Next Generation. No character on either show confused Muldaur for any of the other characters she played within the same continuity. 

Of course. Same actress, different characters; in the shared universe of Star Trek, they're simply three distinct people who happen to look alike (to the eyes of the audience, at least). 

Forgive this rambling preamble; I'm aware that anyone who watches television or movies is well aware of the phenomena I've just described. 

But wouldn't it be fun if a creative team took advantage of our familiarity with the common practice of actors reappearing as different characters?  

Imagine, for example, Doctor Pulaski at the end of season two of Star Trek: The Next Generation. What if the good doctor had actually been Doctor Ann Mulhall the entire time, having faked her own death at some point between the 23rd and 24th centuries and given herself a new identity as Pulaski? Furthermore, what if, during the events of "Return to Tomorrow," Thalassa actually retained control of Mulhall's body and simply pretended to be her from that point forward? 

Imagine a two-part second season finale for TNG. In part one, Troi, working on a project with Pulaski more closely than usual, senses something off about the doctor. Furthermore, the doctor seems troubled by her conscience, and remarks on how old she feels--even though by 24th century standards she's in robust, middle-aged health. At the end of part one, during the course of a solo scientific mission in a shuttlecraft, she changes course and appears to be preparing to fly straight into a star. 

Part two opens as the TNG crew prevents Pulaski's suicide. Troi tries to counsel her, and naturally Riker, Picard, Data, and the others are concerned and reach out in different ways, trying to figure out what's gone wrong in Pulaski's life. 

The audience should be wondering too, because to us, she's Pulaski. By season's end, most viewers will have long forgotten that they remember Diana Muldaur from the original series. In fact, I'd wager 99% of viewers would be just as confused by Pulaski's actions and demeanor as the show's heroes. 

Finally, Pulaski lets slip a cryptic phrase, quoting some of her own words from "Return to Tomorrow:" "I told him oblivion together didn't frighten me. I lied." 

Then, a beat later, just before she successfully kills herself: "I'm not frightened anymore. Forgive me, Ann." 

For fans just familiar enough with Star Trek lore, the puzzle pieces should snap into place with what I hope would be dramatic impact. 

Our main characters are traumatized by all this--suicide being incredibly uncommon in the utopian world of the 24th century. In the episode's denoument, Troi and Data uncover Pulaski's past, reporting their findings to Captain Picard, who has to decide what to make of all this. The story of Mulhall/Thalassa/Pulaski is a triple-pronged tragedy of Shakespearean proportions, and a dark finale for the show's sophomore season. 

At the very least, I think this would have been better than "Shades of Grey." Plus, it would have given Doctor Beverly Crusher a powerful in-story reason to return--to be there for Picard and her other friends in the wake of such traumatic events. 

The Lost Return to Krypton

Despite having had Superman Returns in my movie library since, oh, probably 2007, only yesterday did I watch most of the set's special features, including the deleted scenes. 

The first and best of these scenes is Kal-El's return to Krypton, partially explaining the title; originally conceived as the film's opening, this scene captures both Kal-El's return to Krypton, and Clark Kent's return to Earth. 

In brief, we see Superman flying a crystal starship much like the one that brought him to Earth in Superman (Richard Donner, 1978). This version is much bigger, and it has a windshield shaped like the irregular pentagram that houses Superman's famous S symbol. (In the films and some other media, this symbol happens to be that of the house of El. In the comics, the Kents are typically responsible for the symbol and its shape, directly or indirectly.) The starship is beautifully designed, and it's inferred that the ship was grown by the Kryptonian crystals ubiquitous to the Donner/Reeve Superman movies.

(Why does Superman need a spaceship, when it's been shown that he can fly through space under his own power? Because only in star systems like Earth, with its yellow sun, does Superman have his powers. Without solar energy, Superman eventually becomes a regular human. Dimmer suns, like Krypton's, are insufficient--and in this version of the myth, that star is gone anyway.) 

Within the starship, Superman gazes through the windshield at the shattered remains of his homeworld. We see that most of the planet has been blown to smithereens, but a sizeable chunk of the sphere remains, perhaps an eighth of the planet's surface. Superman pilots the craft for a closer look at that surviving chunk, and breaks out in a cold sweat the closer he gets. He soon learns why he's feeling sick: the detonation of Krypton's star has transformed much of Krypton's mass into Kryptonite, which is deadly to Kryptonians. He sees the crest of his family carved into a rockface, all that remains of his heritage, before the Kryptonite radiation forces him to turn back. He sets a course back to Earth. 

I really wish the filmmakers had found a way to include this sequence in the film's final cut. While Superman's reasons for leaving Earth are explained through dialogue during the film, this graceful, quiet sequence--through sound effects, Brandon Routh's performance, visual effects, and editing--shows, rather than tells, us why Kal-El would make such a journey. Like many heroes of myth, he has answered the call to adventure, and so must answer the call home--in this case, a home not just forever changed, but entirely obliterated. Having seen with his own eyes that he really can't go home again, he turns back to his adopted home, wiser and sadder. 

A half-dozen or so short deleted scenes set on the Kent farm follow, giving Ma Kent and Clark more time on screen together and giving Clark more scenes that again show, rather than tell, his mixed feelings about his time away. He stumbles upon stacks of newspapers that his mother has gathered in his absence, newspapers that cry out for Superman's help and wonder why and where he's gone. Not only that, but his mother has started dating again. Had he not left, Clark probably would have been happy for his mother, but a major change like this on his return clearly comes as a shock. And of course, as we see in the film as released, it's far from the only way his relationships have changed. 

The rest of the deleted scenes include some extra business when Clark returns to the Daily Planet, some shenanigans from Lex Luthor and his cadre of villains, and a final coda at the Daily Planet. I can easily see while these scenes were cut, though I do like the Daily Planet coda; it has a nice final moment for Perry White and Lois Lane. 

Superman Returns is not a well-loved film, and I'm well aware of its faults. But I still love it, because it feels like the natural continuation of the journey we saw Christopher Reeve's Superman begin in the 1970s. Reeve's Superman is gentle, charming, and self-effacing; he's a fundamentally decent person. But Reeve also captured the character's tragic side; he's an orphan one and a half times over, he has a secret he can't share with anyone, and carries a fantastic burden of responsibility; both his biologial and foster parents tell him over and over that he is on Earth for a reason, and that reason is not to play football--in other words, his life should not and cannot be normal. 

Clark takes on this responsibility gladly and solemnly, and he takes joy in helping people. But in the world of the Reeve films, he has no true peers. (Technically Supergirl exists in his world thanks to the titular Helen Slater film of 1984, but the two characters never interact, and none of the Superman films mention her.) There's not even a Justice League to pal around with. No wonder being Clark is so important to him; it's his only window to something approximating a normal life. 

The Krypton and Smallville deleted scenes make the final film's sombre tone even more justified, and give weight to Superman's final scene in the film.Though he's lost Lois, he knows that Krypton's heritage will live on through their son. "Will we see you?" Lois asks. "Around?" 

"I'm always around," Superman says, with his beautiful, confident smile, but we can feel his sadness, his loss, and his renewed sense of purpose. John Ottman's gorgeous music is a beautifully wistful accompaniment to this moment, until its forced to transition to the Williams theme for an upbeat final look at this version of the Man of Steel as he flies off into the sunset to resume his never-ending battle for truth and justice. 

Through Lois Lane, this film asks us if the world needs Superman. Lois' answer--and the film's--is yes. But that answer comes with a price. For Superman, the price is never having a normal life or a romantic partner. 

For us, the audience, the price is the knowledge that Superman isn't real. It's a beautiful fantasy--the idea that there could be a person selfless and true, someone with enough power but enough decency to shape the world for the better. 

So as it turns out, the only way to have the better world a real-life Superman would enable is to take on his mantle ourselves, to the best of our limited ability. We're always around, too, and we can choose to use our time to make the world better or worse. That's all Superman does. He needed a break in Superman Returns, but when he came to grips with his grief and his losses, he returned to his best self. 

Maybe someday we can all do something similar. 

Arnold's Path

A giant straddles the Terminator between light and shadow
Like Atlas, but actually Hercules
A Dutch treat from Austria, caught in a Matrix of illusion
A Julius Caesar, torn between worlds to rule
A Quaid/Hauser, lost in conflicting roles
A Kaminski/Brenner on both sides of the coldest war
A Danko, a Richards, a Slater, a Kimble, a Langston
A Trench-ant master, caught in a Fries frame
Doctor, President, Patron, Hood, and yet always a Self
The once and future King Conan Kalidor
Ahhhhnold, the T-800

Swooped Away

 

My Escape from New York blu-ray included some themed pins, so I used them to create a safe place for my metal Criterion Channel charter subscriber card. I figure it's appropriate, since the film has been on the channel. 
 

The Brain of Colossus

 

"Colossus' brain is bigger than yours. It weighs 60 tons."

The Young Man from Elsewhere

Today I watched a fifth-season episode of St. Elsewhere, and who should turn up but Wil Wheaton? He plays a prodigy with an IQ of 160 who's completed Einstein's unified field theory. 

Never mind that such a feat might fundamentally alter the world in which St. Elsewhere exists, Wheaton's character decides he wants to be a doctor, so even though he's only 14, he joins the cast for rounds. 

Wheaton is very good here, and it's interesting to see him in a role that comes after his star-making turn in Stand By Me but before he joined the cast of Star Trek: The Next Generation as Wesley Crusher. 

Other Star Trek alums appear in this episode: Bruce Greenwood, who joined the regular cast this season and who appeared as Captain Pike in the first two Kelvin timeline movies, and Ed Begley Jr., who guest-starred on Star Trek: Voyager. Mind you, several St. Elsewhere regulars have appeared on Star Trek, perhaps most famously Jane Wyatt, who played Amanda Grayson, Spock's mom. 
 

Kisses of Death, Flashes of Brilliance

The Death Kiss (Edwin L. Marin, 1932) is a fair-to-middling comedy-mystery hybrid about a movie star who gets shot to death on a film set and the pursuit of his killer. The comedy relies mostly on some dry wit and buffoonery, and the mystery has some clever aspects. It's not a bad film, but it's not terribly memorable--save for two aspects. 

One, Bela Lugosi is in really fine and atypical form here as one of the movie's quasi-antagonists and murder suspects. The script requires him to be somewhat abrasive and therefore credible as a murderer, but Lugosi's performance adds sympathy and ambiguity, so much so that I was thinking to myself that maybe he wouldn't turn out to be the murderer after all. (SPOILERS for a 94-year old movie: he didn't!) 

Two, Marin and his team add flashes of colour during two scenes of this black-and-white film. The first comes as the police are reviewing film in the projection room--film that might reveal the killer's identity. But the projector explodes, and does so in what I think must be hand-painted colour on the frames. The effect is quite dramatic, and if it caught me by surprise, I imagine audiences in 1932 must have been really impressed. There's also some use of the technique for light sources in the aftermath. 

Showing admirable restraint, this trick isn't used again until the film's climax, when the killer is tracked down and a running gunfight breaks out. Again we get hand-painted colour on flashlights and, most effectively, flashes of red and yellow gunfire. It really is a very cool effect that elevates the picture.