Posts Tagged ‘Science Fiction’

The FX Magic of Ray Harryhausen continues with ‘Mysterious Island’ and ‘It Came From Beneath the Sea’, this weekend at the Trylon Microcinema

Thursday, March 11th, 2010

Take-Up Productions and The Trylon Microcinema’s month-long celebration of the career of one-man effects powerhouse Ray Harryhausen continues this weekend with two of my personal favorites: the loose and fanciful adaptation of Jules Verne’s Mysterious Island and the early monster-from-the-deep programmer It Came From Beneath the Sea.  It’s a veritable giant seafood buffet!  Showtimes are as follows:

Mysterious Island
Friday: 7:00pm, 9:00pm
Saturday: 7:00pm, 9:00pm

It Came From Beneath the Sea (HD)
Sunday: 5:20pm, 7:00pm

Tickets are $8.00, and can be purchased (cash-only) at the door or in advance online.  For the complete schedule for this series and advance ticketing information, click here.

The Trylon Microcinema is located at 3258 Minnehaha Ave S in Wtf-Film’s own Minneapolis, MN, and is the home of Take-Up Productions.

The FX Magic of Ray Harryhausen at the Trylon Microcinema – this weekend, ‘Jason and the Argonauts’ and ‘Earth Vs. the Flying Saucers’

Friday, March 5th, 2010

The Trylon Microcinema, an intimate 50-seat house located at 3258 Minnehaha Ave. S in Wtf-Film’s own Minneapolis, MN, is quickly becoming the most exciting film venue in the city for eclectic cinema aficionados.  This past Halloween brought a month-long tribute to the cinema of David Cronenberg, for instance.  Films are screened in either 35mm or HD (non-film screenings are denoted on the schedule).

Starting this weekend, as lead-up to the big-budget remake of Clash of the Titans, the Trylon is hosting a retrospective of the special effects films of Ray Harryhausen, from his early days toiling on low-budget science fiction programmers to his heyday in the mid-60s.  This weekend brings a classic double feature, the epic fantasy Jason and the Argonauts and the ultimate in 50s alien invasion cinema Earth vs. The Flying Saucers. Screening times are listed below:

Jason and the Argonauts
Friday, 05 March: 7:00pm, 9:00pm
Saturday, 06 March: 7:00pm, 9:00pm

Earth vs. The Flying Saucers (HD)
Sunday, 07 March: 7:00pm, 9:00pm

Cash is accepted at the door, or tickets can be purchased in advance online (see the link below).  Seating is limited, so I suggest planning ahead (and yes, I realize I posted this too late for anyone to act on the shows tonight – next week’s announcement will be more timely).

A full listing for Trylon and Take-up Productions’ Harryhausen celebration can be found here:  Titans.  Will.  Clash. – The FX Magic of Ray Harryhausen

Crazies, The (original)

Wednesday, March 3rd, 2010

companies: Pittsburgh Films,
Latent Image and Cambist Films
year: 1973
runtime: 103′
country: United States
director: George A. Romero
cast: Lane Carroll, Will MacMillan,
Harold Wayne Jones, Lloyd Hollar,
Lynn Lowry, Richard Liberty,
Richard Francis, Harry Spillman,
Will Disney, Edith Bell,
Bill Thunhurst, Leland Stames
writers: Paul McCullough (original
script) and George A. Romero

cinematographer: Bill Hinzman
music: Bruce Roberts
special effects: Tony Pantanella
and Regis Survinski
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VHS | SD DVD | Blu-ray

Things get a little crazy in Evans City, Pennsylvania after a germ warfare experiment crash-lands in the town water supply in this early thriller from director George A. Romero (Night of the Living DeadMartin).  Recently remade as a slick horror piece by Breck Eisner with an executive production assist from Romero himself (read our coverage of that film here), the original The Crazies plays less for chills than one might expect.

The story is relatively simple: The Army descends upon the quiet community of Evans City in full HAZMAT getup in an effort to contain an accidental outbreak of the experimental Trixie virus.  Epic miscommunication between the Army, civilians, and the scientists on the hunt for a vaccine causes no end of trouble, with the unprepared military suddenly finding themselves up against both the crazed infected and the understandably defensive citizens of the town.  Meanwhile a small group tries to escape the insanity, dodging military patrols while dealing with the crazies among their own . . .

There are horrific elements to Romero’s The Crazies to be sure.  The opening plays as a repeat of that from Night of the Living Dead, with a young boy trying to scare his sister through ghoulish behavior.  Things soon take a turn for the serious, as the boy’s father loses his mind and sets fire to the property.  Later displays of insanity, a priest’s self-immolation in front of his church, an elderly woman treating a soldier as so much knitting, and a father lusting after his teenage daughter, make for indelible images as powerful as anything from the earlier Night . . . but are few and far between.

The step down in horror means a step up in action, the uneasy balance between the two marking The Crazies‘ place as a bridge between the better-known horror classics that bookend it.  Scenes of the Army bursting into homes unannounced and the gun battles that ensue are highly evocative of the tenement scene early on in Dawn of the Dead, with one major difference:  The tenement residents in Dawn know that they’ve been breaking the law in keeping their dead in the basement of their building – no one bothers to tell the citizens of The Crazies why they’re suddenly finding themselves under martial law.  It’s no surprise when factions of the town, crazed and sane, take up arms against what they see as an anonymous invasionary force.

Made as the war in Vietnam was in its death throws and opposition to it was at its height, the image of the US military in The Crazies is not a terribly kind one.  Soldiers are seen stealing from invaded homes as well as from the corpses of dead, for instance.  The commentary here seems to be more about individual indiscretion under extreme circumstances (a big part of the later Dawn of the Dead) than a condemnation of the military as a whole, here presented as an organization of working men who are every bit as confused about what they’re doing in Evans City as the citizens are about their being there.  Hogtied by bureaucracy and a lack of both supplies and manpower, it’s no small wonder that the containment operation devolves into madness so quickly.

The real villains (the only villains, in fact) of the piece are the politicians and generals at the top of the food chain.  They’re first priority is to put a nuclear weapon in the skies over the quarantined city, a decision that has more to do with saving face (biological warfare experiments are obviously a no-no) than containing the infection.  Robert Wise’s The Andromeda Strain seems a likely inspiration for these sequences, with those in charge sitting in a room far from the center of action with far more concern for their personal careers than anyone who might be affected by their decisions.  Romero adds a nice touch here, showing several of the group having snacks (an orange, a sandwich) as they glibly discuss the mass-murder of a few thousand civilians.


Made for peanuts in his native Pennsylvania and on the streets of the real Evans City, The Crazies is an interesting if jumbled production from a Romero still trying to find his footing in the film world.  The biggest fault of the production is its kinetic editing sensibility, heavily influenced by Romero’s past as a commercial filmmaker.  What works well for scenes of action or horror leaves the drama tangled and, thanks to the low-budget audio recording, frequently unintelligible.  It’s not a bad film by any means, particularly given the considerable budgetary constraint, and there is still some prescience to the story (the corralling of displaced citizens into a high school gymnasium reminds of the Louisiana Superdome during and after hurricane Katrina).  It’s just not up to par with Romero’s better known works from the same time period, though the positives – strong performances and immediate, documentary-style photography – make up for the negatives.

The Crazies wasn’t a terrifically successful picture upon release in March of 1973 (it was even less successful when re-released as Code Name: Trixie a few years later) and hasn’t developed the same level of cult devotion Romero’s two contemporaneous zombie pictures.  Released twice previously on VHS by Vista Home Video and Anchor Bay respectively, Blue Underground has recently given the film the respect deserving of a lesser work from a horror icon.  Now available on both DVD and Blu-ray from the company, their editions come with excellent restored 1.66:1 framed anamorphic video as well as a nice array of supplements – including a commentary track with director Romero, a featurette on supporting actress Lynn Lowry (ShiversI Drink Your Blood), the usual trailers and television spots and an extensive stills gallery.  Suffice it to say, the Blue Underground editions are the ones to own.

There are more than enough reasons for genre fans to see this one – the director, the supporting cast (Richard Liberty (Day of the Dead), Richard France (Dawn of the Dead) and the aforementioned Lynn Lowry), the memorable moments of craziness.  Though rife with imperfections Romero’s goal of creating a timely action / horror / thriller is achieved all the same, and The Crazies ‘73 is still a far more intriguing beast than its recent remake will ever be.  Recommended.

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A home video release 45 years in the making – ‘Crack in the World’ coming to DVD in 2010

Wednesday, February 24th, 2010

Color me surprised, but when a company I’ve never heard of announces that they’ve licensed titles from Paramount’s hefty catalog of previously unreleased productions it can be nothing but good news.

There is no firm street date as yet for this Olive Films DVD, just one of around 20 older Paramount properties the company intends to release by the end of the year.  And while I find it doubtful that there will be much in the way of supplemental content given past experience, this is still exceptional news for fans who have been waiting for a proper video release of the title for the past two decades or more.

You can read Wtf-Film’s review of the film here: Crack in the World (1965) dir. Andrew Marton

Ganjasaurus Rex

Wednesday, February 24th, 2010

companies: Prehistoric Productions
and Reel People Media
year: 1987
runtime: 88′
country: United States
director: Ursi Reynolds
cast: Paul Bassis, Dave Fresh,
Rosie Jones, Howard Phun,
Rich Abernathy, John Ivar,
Andy Barnett, Alex,
Stephen Brown, Diana Hahn
writers: Paul Bassis, Dan Gilweit,
Rosie Jones, Rick Cooper, Al Ceraulo,
Andy Barnett, Alex, Stephen Brown,
Jon Akselsen and Diana Hahn
videographer: Russel Dobson
music: Step One Studios, David Penalosa,
Rob Sadler, Andy Barnett, Mark John,
Rod Deal, Larry “Lazer” Murphy, Tree Spirit,
Tyce, Mike, Sean, Rich, Dan and Paul Bassis
special effects: marty Smitty
order the OOP Rhino Video
release from Amazon.com


Plot: A prehistoric monster terrorizes the California coast and the marijuana growers there, who have developed a new strain of cannabis the grows to be as large as a redwood tree.

Aside from an extensive selection of Sandy Frank-imported Japanese science fiction features and an Ed Wood Jr. skin flick, Rhino Video’s 1988 release of Ganjasaurus Rex is the only other VHS I clearly remember dwelling on Blockbuster’s paltry “Other” shelf.  Even to my young eyes it looked just too . . . well . . . bad . . . to be worth bothering with, so I never did.  Not, at least, until now.

The story, such as there is one, follows a handful of pot farmers looking to make it big with a new sequoia-sized strain of cannabis and the subsequent (farcical) attempts by the DEA to suppress their efforts.  Intruding upon things is the gargantuan Tyrannosaurus Herbivorous Ganjasaurus Rex, a misunderstood beast from the sea who seeks only to munch peacefully on the towering marijuana plants that dominated its prehistoric environment.  Compulsory scenes of monster mayhem ensue, with Ganjasaurus Rex sending the local California populace fleeing and the DEA rushing to an expert on the beast (one Professor Sprog) for help.

The box art for this one pretty much sums it up – cheap is the operative word.  Low-fi and low-tech, the project seems to be the confused brainchild of a few stoner musicians looking to sound off against the Reagan-era War on Drugs in the doofiest way possible, by having a pissed-off prehistoric monster rise up in reaction to Federal drug raids.  Some archival footage from a 1985 raid on a California pot grower is even used to beef up the creature’s first appearance.  The dinosaur menace (implicitly linked with Godzilla, which makes for a copyright joke at the end of things) is primarily accomplished through stop motion, at least in the argumentative sense of the term.  Mostly it looks like what it is: either a toy being jerked around in front of a blue screen or a larger head mock-up with a light bulb inside of it.  Impressive it certainly isn’t, though it is amusing from time to time.


Surprisingly enough, the writing here (credited to no fewer than ten people, including much of the cast) isn’t all that bad, and some is even funny as intended.  It’s obvious where the sympathies of the creators lie.  The DEA, local law enforcement, and anti-pot community activists (operating under the banner of “Operation C.A.M.P” . . . har har har) are presented as little more than buffoons, their dialogue full of Freudian slips (confusing “propaganda” and “press packets”, for instance).  The good-guys are peaceful and well-intentioned hippies with names like Cloud and Moss, who spend their days watching T.V., eating lentils, and being generally unproductive members of society.  The scientists are goofy, especially Professor Sprog, though we know they’re good too – they drink all-natural carrot juice while their DEA agent guest opts for Folger’s Crystals and Sweet ‘n Low.

There is some seriousness afoot when DEA agents descend on Moss and his girlfriend’s pad, confiscating their gargantuan potted pets (named Zelda and Wilma) at gunpoint.  Any comment on the use of extreme force is quickly lost in the farce, with the DEA agents, their supporters, and a gaggle of press representatives finding themselves quite taken with the smoking remnants of Moss’ pet trees.  The display also attracts one Ganjasaurus Rex, who goes on a brief rampage behind still photos of local buildings before settling down and taking a few tokes off the still smoldering pot-pyre.

Performances are expectedly mixed but, as was the case with the writing, not as bad as one might anticipate.  Much of the on-screen talent were local musicians, and at least they have something in the way of personality on their side.  The less said about the more technical aspects of the production the better.  The videography is mostly flat and static, and the live audio recording is ample for understanding dialogue but not much else.  One big positive is the music, which is quite good throughout.  I’d frankly be more interested in owning a copy of the soundtrack than the film itself.

I can’t bring myself to be too hard on this one, though I honestly don’t have that much to say about it either.  For a no-budget shot-on-video monster comedy it could certainly have been worse, even if some of it did leave me feeling rather sleepy-eyed.  Long OOP, Ganjasaurus Rex currently goes for anywhere between $50 and $1000 at online retailers, which seems excessive at both ends.  If you can find it cheap it may well be worth a watch, though those who skip on it certainly aren’t missing out on much.  Does ambivalence count as a recommendation?


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release from Amazon.com

Deadly Spawn, The

Monday, February 22nd, 2010

a.k.a. Return of the Aliens: The Deadly Spawn
company: Filmline
year: 1983
runtime: 81′
country: United States
director: Douglas McKeown
cast: Charles George Hildebrandt,
Tom DeFranco, Richard Lee Porter,
Jean Tafler, Karen Tighe
James Brewster, Elissa Neil,
Ethel Michelson, John Schmerling,
Judith Mayes, Andrew Michaels
writers: Ted A. Bohus, John Dods,
Douglas McKeown, Tim Sullivan
cinematographer: Harvey M. Bimbaum
music: Paul Cornell, Michael Perllstein
and Kenneth Walker
special effects: John Dods, John Mathews,
John Payne, Kevin G. Shinnick,
Arnold Gargulo and Gregory Ramoundos
disc company: Synapse Films
release date: October 26, 2004
retail price: $19.95
disc details: Region 0 / NTSC / dual layer
video: 1.33:1 / pictureboxed / progressive
audio: Dolby Digital 2.0 mono (English)
subtitles: none
special features: Two feature-length audio
commentaries, production photo and still galleries,
comic-style prequel short, outtakes and audition
tapes, new alternate opening, original trailer,
cast and crew biographies
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Plot: A monster crashes to Earth in a meteorite and crawls into a damp basement, where it slowly eats its way through the members of the family living in the house above.

The Deadly Spawn is the sort of film that could only have emerged from years of heartfelt hard labor on the part of good friends, a grimly imaginative bit of gross-out monster horror that’s at least as much fun as it is rough around the edges.  The brainchild of writer and producer Ted A. Bohus and special effects man John Dods, the film touches base with just about every science fiction monster romp of the preceding 30 years, from It Came from Outer Space and The Blob to the then-recent Ridley Scott mega-hit Alien, while retaining a unique low-budget magic all its own.  Made for about the cost of my second car The Deadly Spawn is far from perfect, but that doesn’t stop it from being a hell of a good time.

The premise is simple: A monster crash-lands in the New Jersey countryside and finds a nice wet home for itself in a family’s basement.  Once there it grows, sending baby monsters out to conquer the surrounding town.  People are eaten, families destroyed, and a monster movie obsessed boy becomes on unlikely hero.

It’s best gotten out of the way early that the script by Bohus, Dods, director Douglas McKeown and production assistant Tim Sullivan, has its fair share of low points.  Long sections of the earliest two thirds of the picture are devoted to slow slogs of exposition, none of which is terribly interesting.  The main cast of high school kids is a welcome change from the traditionally irritating monster-chow variety, at least.  They spend the picture worried about real-world things – grades, studying, a dead uncle in the recliner downstairs – though a brief bit of romantic interest between two of them is better left skipped.  In the end the teenagers exist only to be threatened by the title monster, dependent on the real hero of the story (an eleven year old) for their survival.

The biggest problem with the drama is just how superfluous most of it is, though the true star of the picture – the toothy, multi-headed brainchild of John Dods – and its crafty implementation more than makes up for it.  The Deadly Spawn’s extensive displays of monster-oriented death, mayhem and destruction are certainly its biggest selling point, and with good reason.  The chief creature, roughly a man’s height with three heads and fleshy stalks protruding from its back, spends quality screen time with the young hero in the basement in a series of wonderfully shot scenes.  There are moments where the low key lighting and imaginative framing seem positively inspired.  The most memorable of the scenes by a fair margin is when the child and spawn first meet, the boy watching as the monster vomits up his mother’s disembodied head!



While fans of the new breed of bargain basement monster horror (now industrialized and dominated by a few awful straight-to-video companies) will be accustomed to gore, the violence of The Deadly Spawn was quite graphic and intense for the time.  The many monster attacks are quick-cut and bloody, and rendered all the more effective by the free-for-all nature of the scripting (the film happily abides by Joe Bob Briggs’ rule for horror, that anybody can die at any time).  The Deadly Spawn opens with a classic cult scare, with the monster devouring not one but both of the parents of the household.  Later a teen-aged love interest is unceremoniously beheaded and tossed out of an upper floor window!  An attack on a vegetarian luncheon provides some welcome bad-taste laughs while the schlocker ending takes the “?” finale of The Blob to its logical conclusion, with a gargantuan spawn devouring the countryside.

The John Dods directed special effects, made for little more than the price of the 16mm stock they’re filmed on, are generally excellent.  The full-sized spawn puppet is a magnificent creation, even if it does look a little too much like a trio of razor-toothed cocks perched atop a bulging scrotum base.  Some of the simplest techniques manage the most impressive results, like the tiny tadpole spawns wriggling along barely submerged tracks or two-dimensional paper and foam puppets filmed in silhouette.  There’s little doubt that CGI would be used for such effects these days, but I’ll take the foam-and-rubber work of Dods and company over that newer method of doing business any day.

The Deadly Spawn was quite a success when 21st Century Film Corp. released it theatrically in 1983 (after nearly three years in production), making back ten times its production budget in its opening week in New York.  It was on home video that the film found its real cult following, both in America and especially in mainland Europe (it was banned as a “Video Nasty” in England), and I remember passing by its graphic over-sized Continental Video box many times as a child.  It looked terrible to me then, the cover showing the full-size creature surrounded by dismembered limbs, but it was one of the first videos I rented when I went to work at my hometown’s own (and now defunct) Video Spectrum years later.

The home video market has come a long way since the time The Deadly Spawn was released, and Synapse Films deserves no small amount of praise for doing such an exceptional job of bringing the film to its long-awaited digital debut.  Working from the original 16mm camera negatives, Synapse has delivered the most definitive video release of the title to date.



The 1.33:1 progressive transfer presents The Deadly Spawn in its originally intended aspect ratio, and while the pictureboxing  (to compensate for overscan on traditional television sets) limits the available resolution a bit my complaints about the transfer otherwise are slim.  In fact, I don’t think I have any!  The wonderfully grainy image presents with strong detail and accurately captures the highly variable nature of the photography.  Extensive color correction makes for exceptional results, and the frequent reds (seen in blood, bath robes, and even a telephone) really pop.  There is some minimal damage, limited to infrequent dirt and speckles, but nothing distracting – I’d wager this looks better than many of the 35mm blowups that played theaters in the 80s.   Audio is a healthy Dolby Digital 2.0 monophonic track that faithfully reproduces the highs and lows of no-budget recording.  There are no subtitles.

Proving that The Deadly Spawn was as much a labor of love for Synapse Films as for the original creators, the supplements are stacked.  First up are two audio commentaries, one with writer and producer Ted A. Bohus and another with special effects man John Dods, writer / director Douglas McKeown, production assistant Tim Sullivan, executive producer Tim Hildebrandt and actor Charles Hildebrandt (the 11 year old hero of the film).  The cast and crew track makes for tremendous fun, while the Bohus track tends towards the more serious and informative, covering the troublesome nature of the lengthy production as well as the distribution issues with 21st Century Film Corp.  Other supplements are more traditional, including a theatrical trailer (sourced from tape), extensive stills galleries, filmmaker biographies, and even a bloopers and outtakes reel, though there are some standouts.  We get audition tapes for the cast, a contemporary John Dods introduction to the creature listed as “A Visit with The Deadly Spawn 1982″, an alternate opening with some new effects added, and even a comic book prequel to the film.

I’ll never be one to call The Deadly Spawn a great film, but it’s certainly a fun one and I’ve been a fan for a long while now.  The reasonably priced Synapse Films disc was released on my birthday, 2004, and I picked up my copy as soon as I was off work that evening.  It’s a great disc by any estimation and comes highly recommended to both fans of the feature and monster horror buffs in general.  As for the film, it may be a little shabby but I love it all the same.  This reviewer say see it!

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