Reviews

This was just fine for a Monday night after a challenging day at work. I did not have to think much; the characters were always getting into quite predictable situations, the ploy pretty conventional.

I'd give it an 8 for atmospherics. The late 70s vibe -- I always equate that period to sleaze and bad fashion -- helped. Along with the Texas Gothic setting. Sort of like Texas Chainsaw Massacre meets Boogie Nights. One of the characters even has a touch of Baby Jane Hudson in her.

But pretty much everything about the plot is predictable. The old couple you know are going to be a problem. Filming an adult movie on a swampy, 'gator infested piece of land -- with the Bible Belt owners present -- may create some dangers. And girl! Stay out of the cellar!! I know the really creepy guy told you to go down there without a flashlight, but do not trust him.

Now on the plus side: kudos to the New Zealand production team for getting NZ to look like South Texas. And to the dialog coaches for doing a fairly good job on the Texas twangy accents. I grew up near Houston and it was all pretty convincing. I had no idea this was shot in New Zealand.

This was a Netflix "recommendation" for me. So I checked out a few minutes of the first episode, and unlike most Netflix series where I lose interest pretty quickly, or make it through the first three or four episodes, I found this Mexican series strangely addictive.

The setting: A wealthy gated community somewhere in central Mexico (it was shot in Huixquilucan, between Toluca and Mexico City). The plot focuses on five couples and their families. Each have their secrets, problems and tensions within their marriages.

--There is the failing politician from a corrupt family and his always pregnant wife and their seven kids.

--A entrepreneur of some sort from Spain, and his wife. He is domineering, and physically abusive to her.

--An executive of a Dutch/Japanese firm who runs their Mexico business, and his socially ambitious wife.

--A female real estate agent who has to peddle property in the gated community because her husband is a layabout and pothead and she has bigger ambitions for her school aged son.

--A highly successful plastic surgeon and his wife -- his creation -- who he constantly wants to remake.

Each episode focuses on one family and is told mostly from the wife's point of view, with some journeys into what the guys are up to (it's mostly frat house type male bonding and tamed down machismo, e.g. Who plays the best tennis, who has the most audacious watch).

Yes, it gets a little soap opera / telenovela like. But like a soap, you want to know more and more about each situation, especially as the pathologies and desperation -- lots of money issues -- are slowly revealed. We also get to see some of the social, racial problems of Mexico in an Upstairs Downstairs sort of way. In some ways their bubble community resembles upper middle class America circa 1975.

One disappointment: the American English dubbing / translation. With the guys it is non stop "bro" and "dude." Curious what that is in Mexican Spanish. It is seriously annoying. Not sure middle aged, middle class men speak like that -- in any language.

All in all a fun and unexpected binge watch. Trashy yes, but good fun. Do not look for seriousness here.

This could have been a great exploration of adolescent depression and how families cope, or do not cope. Sadly it gets mired in melodrama, a very predictable plot -- one "uh ohh" element is reveled early on -- and one dimensional characters, most notably the son in question, Nicholas, played by Zen McGrath. I'm sure he is a fine actor, but here he has little to do other than moan about his depression -- in the movie it's never called depression for some reason -- look mopey, and be manipulative.

Hugh Jackman is Peter Miller, a successful, workaholic New York lawyer trying to reconnect with his estranged son while pursuing some sort of political career. He is clueless as to his son's problems. You just want to shake him, and say, "It is 2023, have you even heard of depression?!" Peter has daddy issues himself, and out of the blue confronts his uber rich father, a cold, authoritarian figure played by Athnony Hopkins. There is a very short argument about dad's frostiness and inattention when Peter was 10 and that's it for Hopkins.

Laura Dern plays Peter's architect ex-wife, Kate. Vanessa Kirby is Beth his new wife who has just had a baby. Both have little to do other than react to the latest bad behavior by Nicholas. They are mostly confused and mildly upset throughout.

There is a ridiculous hospital confrontation scene, which my psychiatrist neighbor tells me would never happen in the real world. Worse is an absurd ending that 99% of the viewers will figure out in a nanosecond.

As a reviewer here earlier suggested, this whole affair is like one of those old "after school specials" ABC ran in the 1980s, but with a huge budget and name-brand talent. The run time is 2 hours and 3 minutes, which is about 30 minutes too long.

It's been awhile since Netflix produced a truly great show, but here it is.

Mike Flanagan's homage to Edgar Allan Poe's short stories in this eight part series, "The Fall of the House of Usher" is amazing. It's a dark, atmospheric, densely plotted, character-driven piece of Gothic horror that stays with you weeks after viewing.

Flanagan, known for his work on The Haunting of Hill House and The Haunting of Bly Manor, has crafted a terrifying and unforgettable series about hurt and the lengths humans will go to exact revenge.

The story follows Roderick Usher, an ultra-wealthy pharmaceutical CEO, and his tech-genius twin sister and COO, Madeline Usher, as they careen through a quick succession of horrifying family tragedies. It's told through flashbacks as Roderick, ensconced in his dilapidated childhood home, makes a long confession to a federal prosecutor who is trying Usher's company for what sounds like a sprawling RICO case.

The performances in The Fall of the House of Usher are excellent. Carla Gugino is particularly outstanding as the mysterious and enigmatic Verna a mysterious woman from the Usher twins' past. She pops onto the scene at crucial moments with some life lessons for Roderick's children. Roderick is played by Bruce Greenwood, who gives a strong performance as a sociopath on the brink of madness and possibly death. Mary McDonnell is the childless, man-hating, cold-as-ice Madeleine.

Roderick's six children - and the ensemble cast who play them - are especially engaging. The characters are deeply unlikable, so there is satisfaction in their various punishments. Yet in some ways they are darkly humorous and have a sliver of buried humanity. Each is deeply flawed, their weaknesses magnified by their money and privilege, and a sort of contest their dad has set up to show him who can be the most successful. All have "vices" and issues, e.g. Raging drug habits. Voyeurism. Out of control hedonism. Ambition. Sociopathy. Cruelty. Their ambitions mostly flame out in the most gruesome ways.

Infused in each episode are references to Edgar Allan Poe's stories. I could identify the Pit and the Pendulum, The Masque of the Red Death, The Murders in the Rue Morgue, The Black Cat, The Cask of Amontillado, and yes, the Fall of the House of Usher. There are probably many more. Verna, for example, is an anagram of raven.

Flanagan's direction is superb. He creates a truly atmospheric and unsettling world for the characters to inhabit. The film is visually stunning, toggling between haunting dark and gloomy, and forbidding icy cold high tech minimalist. The sound design is excellent, so important for at-home viewing. It creates a sense of dread and foreboding without being overbearing.

The Fall of the House of Usher is a must-see for fans of horror and psychological thrillers. The film is a masterful exploration of grief, loss, and the fragility of the human mind. It's dark, disturbing, and deeply atmospheric film that will stay with you long after you have seen it.

I rarely get to a nine rating but this is it.

I did a three-consecutive-night binge watch of Godfather, Godfather II and this, Godfather III (the Coda version).

After the first two, Coda is a mild disappointment. Yes, the same beautiful sets and locations. Pacino is wonderful again. There is a strong supporting cast, with a few notable exceptions. And many memorable scenes. Coppola's direction is masterful. He has produced a film that is a visual treat.

But wow, the story itself is a mess, with key points not explained, relationships not at all clear. Motivations murky.

It all starts in 1979, ten years after the Godfather II ends. Pacino's Don Corleone is in his early 60s, suffering health problems, and feeling guilty about his life of crime. He's turned in to a mega-donor to Catholic charities, and is obsessed with morphing the family's businesses into a legitimate empire.

He puts in a $600 million (about $1.8 billion in 2023 dollars) tender offer for an Italian real estate venture controlled by the Vatican. Thanks to corruption, the Vatican bank, headed by a Corleone ally and Catholic cardinal, needs the money to stay solvent.

From there we go through crosses and double crosses. An attempt by the American mafia families to get in on the action. The buy out of their casino interests in Vegas and Atlantic City (Trump's now demolished casino is the backdrop for a meeting of the crime families). A new pope's short-lived efforts to clean up the financial mess in the church.

There are also two subplots involving the Don's bastard nephew, Vincent (Andy Garcia), his ambitions, and his romantic relationship with Mary Corleone (Sophia Coppola), Michael's daughter and Vincent's first cousin.

But so much is not explained. There is almost no reflection by anyone on the Vincent / Mary relationship other than it is "dangerous" according to Michael, and that he disapproves.

Sophia got lots of criticism for her bland acting, but you know what? It is such a nothing role a strong actor would have been wasted.

Vincent also has a running conflict with low level mafia boss Joey Zasa (Joe Mantegna) but that's not explained at all.

And who tried to kill the crime family bosses? And why? Why is there a contract out on Michael? What is Don Altabello's (Eli Wallach) beef?

What is the mysterious Luchesi character up to? What is his real role? Wikipedia says that he is head of the real estate company that Michael is trying to buy. But the Coda version does not explain that at all. And how did the bank scam work? The business plot in Coda has more holes than a Dunkin' store at 6 AM.

Redeeming all of this are some fine performances by Pacino and supporting cast. The glaring exception is a badly miscast George Hamilton as the new mob lawyer and presumably the Tom Hagan (Robert Duvall) replacement. Hagan's disappearance is never explained. Hamilton when he appears - thankfully it's a small role - gives the movie a bit of a cheesy, cheap, TV vibe.

Diane Keaton is back as the Don's ex-wife, Kay. They had a bitter split at the end of Part II but now they are seemingly best friends. Why? How did that happen?

Connie, Michael's sister, is also here. But her transformation is the most remarkable and most mystifying. Over the course of the three films she transitioned from loving, conventional housewife and mom, to trashy, serial marriage-and divorce floosy, to now, in Part III a sort of an assistant Don, a dragon lady actually ordering executions. How? Why?

I must say the last 30 minutes and the opera scenes in Palermo are very satisfying if a bit over the top. So redemption points there.

So watch this for the cinematography, direction, sets and scenery, costumes, upscale melodrama and Pacino. But plot? Fuhgettaboutit.

I'm very mixed on this series.

If, like me, you like a movie with David Lynch weirdness, a dash of body-horror from Cronenburg, topped with some Hollywood parody / black comedy, you will like Brand New Cherry Flavor. The problem is that there is just not enough energy, mystery, suspense to drive this series forward. I bailed at the start of Episode 5 in favor of a few "watch list" movies. There are only so many hours in a week.

The story is pretty simple. It's 1991. Lisa Nova (Rosa Salazar), a young filmmaker moves to Hollywood to make her first film, which is based on a short, and apparently brilliant student film she produced earlier. She gets involved with sleazy producer Lou Burke (Eric Lange), a sort of Harvey Weinstein type character, who promises that she will direct the movie. He comes close to sexually assaulting her, then after she rejects him - shock! - steals her idea, and pushes her off the project in favor of a low-talent music video director. She wants revenge. And who better to help with that than Boro (Katherine Keener) the neighborhood witch / tattoo artist / crazy woman.

From there it's a moderately engaging ride of spells, spontaneous human combustion, disgusting potions, injections, arachnids, digestion problems, hallucinations, magic vines, zombification, recovered memeories, a new type of body orifice (it even has a G-spot!), and yes, even cat vomit. And by that I do not mean a cat vomiting but a character vomiting up kittens.

It's all set in glitzy, somewhat creepy, early 90s Hollywood that looks a lot like today but with landlines, 80's muscle cars and 1991 Mercedes.

The characters are fairly well drawn. Burke, of course, everyone will hate. Nova is just unlikable enough that you do not always root for her. She lets her ambition get the better of her. Boro, the witch, is inscrutable, a total mystery in the early episodes. Keener does a masterful job here. There's a good guy, an upscale drug dealer, Nova's ex BF. His silly bimbo-lite Aussie girlfriend. And my fave: the vapid, narcissistic, probably not very talented, heartthrob movie star, Roy Hardaway (Jeff Ward) who is way in over his head.

The story moves along at a moderate. Not so fast that the plot is hard to follow, but with enough speed to make a three-hour binge watch session enjoyable. (Episodes run 36 to 52 minutes). The problems start in episodes 3 and 4. For some reason I can't explain, I lost interest. Perhaps the plot was becoming too predictable. Maybe I tired of all the body horror. Or the underlying mysteries were not compelling enough. Likely the characters just got old. I may re-start in a few weeks, but just be warned: some viewers may find the new cherry taste increasingly bland as the story unfolds.

It's good enough that I'd be OK if Netflix made a second season. But not so great that I would be upset if they did not. I note that as of October 10, 2023, Netflix has not announced whether or not Brand New Cherry Flavor will be renewed.

I saw this on Amazon after an especially hard day at work. I needed some dumb escapism. But you know what? This move is not lame enough to be really funny, nor good enough to be in any way entertaining.

The set up is simple. Three astronauts return to earth after some sort of mission to, well, somewhere. They land their craft just off the coast of Los Angeles, but the two survivors find dead bodies on the beach, the city devastated, and a band of mutant humans threatening them.

They make their way to a mansion in the Hollywood Hills, while encountering a young boy, Chris (Christopher Barkett, the producer's son), and Sarah (Lynne Margulies) an attractive 20ish woman fleeing what looks to be an amped up motorcycle gang / Mad Max cult. Along the way our two astronauts learn that most of mankind has been wiped out by nuclear war or biological warfare. The rest of the film is about their navigating and trying to survive in the dangerous post armageddon L. A.

Negatives?

-Wooden acting. Steve Barkett is the producer, director, writer, and star so this is clearly a vanity project. He is pretty deficient in each category. And fails to get much more from the other actors. Margulies tries her best, but is mostly relegated to being the helpless female, always in peril.

-Exploitive. There are gratuitous scenes of poor Sarah bouncing, jiggling about, on the run from what looks to be a biker gang gone berserk, her nipples plainly showing beneath her tight tank top. She's at the center of several disturbing rape / sexual assault scenes that are way over the top for violence. While no one was prosecuted for obscenity, this was the early Thatcher years in Britain. The film was seized and confiscated in the UK under Section 3 of the Obscene Publications Act.

-A blaring, intrusive, off-the-VU meter musical score. The composer, John Morgan, used a full orchestra and got every dollars worth. Trumpets blast. Flutes riff. Snare drums snare. French horns warn. No one makes a move without the music overwhelming the scene. And it's usually inappropriate. Happy music, say, for an abduction scene.

-Looks cheap, but the budget in 2023 dollars is just under $500,000. Today that would make for a pretty good indie film. Maybe the money went for the score?

Positives?

+A for effort. The cast looks like they are having a good time, especially the senior Barkett.

Clearly this movie needs the RiffTrax, MSTK3 treatment.

First this movie is not for everyone. It's gory. It's in black and white (I know that will bother some of the younger folks). It requires some basic understanding of recent Chilean history, the Pinochet regime, and even Margaret Thatcher.

That said, wow. What a fun ride director Pablo Larraín and his co-writer Guillermo Calderón provide. From the opening scenes in 1783 France where our protagonist licks the blood off Marie Antoinette's guillotine to the super-surprise ending it's non-stop shock and pitch black humor.

The story is about the rise and fall, and eventual death wish of Augosto Pinochet, military dictator of Chile from 1973 to 1990 and in El Conde a vampire. Pinochet died in 2006 - in El Conde he faked his death - but here he is in 2023, 250-years old and debating whether he wants to carry on much longer. He has become quite bored and has become a vegetarian to hasten his death.

He is being visited at his ramshackle compound in some godforsaken desert by his five greedy middle-aged offspring. They are checking on their inheritance. They apparently have already burned through much of the money they plundered from the state. And they are curious if dear old dad committed some beastly murders in Santiago.

One of the daughters has called in a nun who is a top exorcist and forensic accountant. From there the fun begins with searches of the old man's belongings - millions in bearer bonds and rare books - seductions and betrayals, an unexpected "biting," and much use of bar blenders (don't ask). And it's all done with a Margaret Thatcher character, of all people, narrating in her haughty, plummy voice. "It's said that when one samples the succulent muscle of a still-palpitating heart, it's hard to go back to being a normal person." Kudos to Stella Gonet who does a perfect Thatcher, as good as Meryl Streep. (Thatcher is despised in Chile for her refusal to allow him to be extradited to Spain for human rights violations).

The visual style is stunning, with Edwin Lachman's black-and-white cinematography creating a nightmarish atmosphere. It reminded me of a David Lynch film (Eraserhead, Elephant Man) with touches of Orson Welles' Touch of Evil and Luis Buñuel's The Exterminating Angel and Belle de Jour. The scenes of a vampire flying about a glittering Santiago at night are especially striking.

Chileans no doubt appreciate the symbolism. The quasi-fascist Pinochet sucking the wealth and freedom from the country, aided by his leach-like family and other enablers. Thatcher gets a few well deserved hits as well, if you subscribe to the idea that British Conservatives have their own parasitic tendencies.

So bravo to Netflix for buying the distribution for this Chilean production. Finally something intelligent, funny -- the Thatcher / Pinochet connection still has me laughing -- outrageous, and yet thoughtful. I am putting this on my short list of watch-again movies.

I'm so mixed on this film. I went in with high expectations. And the first hour is engaging. Well paced. The mystery competently set up. Stylish cinematography. Dark, forbidding vibe. But at the end, I found it to be a missed opportunity.

The crime: a young, attractive real estate agent, Matilda Lutz as Summer Elswick is brutally murdered at a home she is showing. It is clearly a crime of passion. Over thirty stab wounds, and a knife embedded in her pelvic bone.

Her boyfriend, Will Grady (Justin Timberlake) a successful colleague, is the first suspect. Summer failed to show up for one of his talks, and he becomes quite angry. He was to meet Summer at the listing.

Suspect #2 is a sleazy, slightly "off" ex-husband Sam Gifford (Karl Glusman). His art projects are downright creepy. Number three is Eli Philipps (Michael Pitt) who appears a few nights later at Will's mom's home as a threatening, perhaps mentally disturbed young man bent on avenging a decades old real estate deal brokered by Will's dad. He feels cheated out of a family farm. He looks like a messier, bad-hair-day Russell Brand.

But then it all crashes at hour two. The plot becomes cluttered and unfocused as we wade into the suspicious doings at the small city police department, and procedural stuff. Too many ancillary characters wander in and out of the story. Subplots are dropped. Plot holes emerge. A ridiculous mistake by one of the bad guys reveals too much too soon. And it is all way too slow. A traffic stop takes an eternity and nothing much happens. There are several scenes of cars lazily cruising through scenic country sides, a cliche I often see in Nordic noirs. This thanks to cheap drones, I suspect.

On the positive side, Benico del Toro is great as the enigmatic detective Tom Nichols. He keeps the interest level up as viewers trudge through the messy narrative. He's perfect for a procedural. Low key. Poker faced. And unlike so many TV detectives, his character is free of major vices and a bad / failed marriage. Detective Nichols' only temptations: a better kitchen (and a motion activated faucet, a running joke here) and a top of the line used pickup truck. A not-at-all developed sub-plot shows him to be a jealous husband as well.

Alice Silverstone plays his wife, who is sort of an "assistant detective" helping him piece together a few clues. She is refreshing, a real change from the usual victimized, put-upon police wives we so often see.

I actually found Justin Timberlake's Will convincing as a sort of dodgy, narcissistic rich-kid real estate agent / motivational speaker. There's family money here and a strong mother (Francis Fisher) who heads the real estate business. If this were a series that dynamic would be ripe for exploring further.

In fact, Reptile, with all its subplots and supporting cast, would have been better as a six-part series. Or, a more skillfully edited, slimmed down 90-minute film. Both, though, would need a better title. "Foreclosure" maybe? "Do We have a Deal?" "Great Bones."

The Day of the Jackal (1973) is a classic political thriller that remains one of the best films of its genre. Directed by Fred Zinnemann and based on the novel by Frederick Forsyth, the film tells the story of an anonymous assassin, known only as "The Jackal," who is hired by embittered veterans of the Algerian civil war to kill French President Charles de Gaulle.

The film is notable for its meticulous attention to detail and its realistic portrayal of the planning and execution of an assassination attempt. Zinnemann's direction is understated and efficient, creating a sense of mounting tension and unease as the Jackal closes in on his target.

Edward Fox gives a chilling performance as the Jackal, a cold and calculating killer who is utterly devoid of emotion. As we would put it today: a stone cold sociopath. The Jackal is always well dressed. Meticulous in his preparations. And highly unpredictable. Anyone who encounters him is in danger.

He is perfectly matched by Michel Lonsdale as Louis Lebel, the somewhat frumpy, low key French police detective who is tasked with tracking him down.

The script is intelligent and economically written, with a focus on character development and clear, realistic dialogue. Not a word is wasted. The story is easy to follow, unlike so many over-plotted spy thrillers. And for the Europhiles among us, great location shooting in Paris, Genoa, Nice and London.

The direction is masterful, with Zinnemann creating a sense of mounting tension and dread throughout the film. As with the script, the scenes are tight and purposeful. As Roger Ebert put it in one of his reviews, the movies is like an intricate, expensive watch. Lots of parts but all precision crafted and working perfectly together.

On a deeper level, the film explores the length to which some people will go, the evil they will commit, to deliver retribution for a loss. Fifty-five years later that dilemma still bedevils us.

If I were teaching a film class, this would be assigned viewing for the students.

I do not know the Harry Palmer series at all, so I am viewing this film with no backstory nor understanding of the recurring characters or the franchise "rules." That said, as a standalone movie, I found Billion Dollar Brain, confusing at best.

At the one-hour mark, so many questions. Why is a Russian general sneaking into Michael Caine's hotel room? Why is Caine on some ambush party in Latvia photographing "secrets" being carried in a potato truck? What's his relationship with Karl Malden other than just being "old friends?" And no curiosity at all about the billion dollar brain that spits out commands and orders? The glamorous Francoise DorleacI pops in and out, with not much explanation. What's her story? I hate exposition, but this is one movie that could actually use a little more.

Michael Caine is quoted by his biographer, Michael Hall as saying, "Ken Russell lost the story somewhere and no one could care a damn about what was going on because they couldn't follow what was going on."

I actually had to go to the Wikipedia plot summary to get re-oriented and then rewatch earlier scenes. (I am grateful for streaming). The crib notes vastly improved my enjoyment of the film.

I'm guessing the incoherence is just a function of lazy editing. Perhaps a disjointed script. Too much plot. Inattention as Caine stated. Or maybe that was the style that permeated spy movies of the time, though the Bond films are very easy to follow.

On the plus side, I love Michael Caine's performance as sort of a poor man's Bond. He's a middle class guy - he's in MI5 not MI6 after all - struggling to run what looks to be a Sam Spade-type detective agency in London. He's low key. Skeptical bordering on cynical. The glasses give him a touch of vulnerability.

Karl Malden is convincing as an international criminal / con artist. Grizzled and blustery as ever. And that nose! Ed Begley as the over the top General Midwinter has just the right degree of right-wing craziness. In 2023 we know a lot more about what that looks like.

Oh, and the second half of the movie? Once we meet General Midwinter in Texas the action gets into gear and the plot makes more sense. The right-wing hoe-down / political rally is chilling.

The locations in Finland are marvelous. The Honeywell computers are authentic. Clearly there was a generous budget. And the prediction of an easy break up of the Soviet Union, turned out to be prescient as did the rise of an American, right-wing cult leader.

So a seven rating. Points for the cast and locations. A few more for "effort". But minuses for editing and coherence.

What was Amazon Studios thinking when they produced this schlock?

The Eddie Redcliffe character, a detective from Darwin, who has been called in to lead a murder investigation, has to be the most annoying television character in the history of the medium. Played by Madeleine Sami, she is loud, obnoxious, off-the-charts stupid, and, if we had smell-o-vision, probably ripe since she never changes her clothes. And somehow the chief of police puts her on a high profile case?

Then there is Cath York, the ultra-possessive, controlling neurotic wife of Deadloch's top cop Dulcie Collins (Kate Box). She has convinced the long suffering Dulcie, the only normal character, to take a demotion from detective to sergeant so she can spend more time at home. She nags, and badgers, shames, and guilt-trips at every opportunity. There are lots of 200-word texts and voice mails from Cath, usually interrupting whatever semi-interesting thing that's going on in the main plot.

Finally the supporting players. Sven Alderman (Tom Ballard) a gay male constable, who is totally ineffective, and lazy. The local timber company baron, a surly misogynist who hates the lesbians who are creating a community in Deadloch. The brother of the first victim, a belligerent, brutal red neck (as we would say in the U. S.). A bar maid who hates everyone. And in the background a gaggle of clueless cops and stupid townspeople.

I could only get through 1 1/2 episodes this show it is so bad. Yes, I know the other reviewers say stick it out to the fourth or fifth episode (out of eight) when it somehow gets better, but really I have far better things to do. And shame on Amazon: they promised a police procedural in their tease bar but delivered a bad slap-stick comedy.

This is yet another Aussie comedy that features hateful, horrible leads and puerile humor. Netflix's Wellmania, with Instagram star Celeste Barber, comes to mind. So is this a cultural thing? Do Australians really like non-stop profanity, and gross physical comedy, lead by hateful women?

As for Deadloch, I give it a 2. The only redeeming feature is poor Dulcie who has to contend with the horribleness of everyone else.

Maybe this movie was OK in 3D, but I just watched it on a 65-inch flat screen and wow, it is just awful.

The Bubble opens with a man and his very pregnant wife flying in a small private aircraft for no apparent reason (like why not drive to the nearest hospital?) The plane is in an extreme thunderstorm, when wifey starts to have contractions. It is night, the pilot informs the couple that the closest airport has no lights and the radio is broken, so he lands the craft on what turns out the be a residential street.

Next scene, morning. The woman is in a hospital bed, the baby in an incubator, and the husband is looking for a phone to call the in-laws. But all the town's residents are more or less mute, able only to speak the same three or four words over and over, e.g. "Cab mister?" And make the same movements. Even the doctor who presumably delivered the baby can barely speak. It's an uncredited role, probably because the actor was embarrassed. More disturbing the townspeople wander about like zombies in what looks like a badly maintained back lot full of movie props and buildings from every era

Here is the truly annoying part. Neither the wife, husband or pilot seems to think anything is especially odd. Even in a saloon when a tray of drinks starts levitating and headed for the camera - the wires are very plain to see - it's not deemed out of the ordinary to the pilot and dim hubby. Same when a 1890s style dancer, for no reason, comes down the stairs and starts kicking her legs at the audience like she is doing the Can Can at the Moulin Rouge. All just a typical day in mute town.

Not much else happens from here. They slowly discover they are in, yes, a bubble. Sort of like the dome in the Stephen King movie or whatever was covering the Truman Show town. Then they stumble on to what has to be the lamest ending in any science fiction I have ever seen.

A further note. The television version print is washed out, as the scenes are in a bright sepia tone.

I later learn that this movie was made in 3D, so that explains some of the gratuitous movements. And maybe the odd color. But without that this movie is not even up to a very bad Outer Limits or Twilight Zone episode. I give it a 3 just because it was probably "just OK" with a third dimension added.

Some Girls Do is a British comedy/spy film starring Richard Johnson as Hugh "Bulldog" Drummond, a debonair secret agent posing as an insurance adjuster, who is called in to investigate the sabotage of a new supersonic airliner and a potential £8 million payout.

The movie also stars Robert Morley, Sydne Rome, James Villiers, and Florence Desmond. Joanna Lumley is in an uncredited role as Robert #2.

Some Girls Do is a spoof of the James Bond films, and it features many of the same elements, including high-tech gizmos, in this case infra-sound weapons; exotic locations; beautiful women (mostly fem bots!); and action sequences. Unfortunately the gags are pretty lame, and the action, even by 1969 standards, is a bit of a snooze. The locations on Spain's Costa Brava are boring. They look like a generic 1960s Mediterranean resort area. It is not entirely clear how the fem-bots came into being. There is some hint of surgery, which would be pretty gruesome and not very funny.

On the plus side, Johnson is well cast as Drummond. He delivers a witty and charming performance with an accent even more posh than Sean Connery. Morley is also excellent as Miss Mary, Drummond's eccentric, obviously gay, butler. He is an undercover agent posing as a culinary instructor. He's one of the few sources of real laughter. Rome plays Flicky, a Bondian seductress and triple agent who exudes a sort of silly sexuality. Desmond, in her last film role, is credible as an aging, ex-pat society host who is also a spy. The best performance is from Villers, who plays the villain, Petersen (odd name for a bad guy) to the hilt. He looks especially mad in his Duke of Wellington outfit.

But none of it really comes together. The really good laughs are few and far between. The action sequences (a glider sabotage, a speed boat race) do not produce much adrenaline. Special effects are so-so. The photography is meh. The musical score - always fun in a Bond film - is forgettable. It's a bland, paint-by-the-numbers Bond spoof.

So a great set-up. Fun cast. But a major miss on entertainment value.

Suddenly, Last Summer is a guilty pleasure for me. I watch it every three or four years, and it gets campier, more over the top with each viewing. It is highly entertaining - for me at least - but I suspect it is not aging well. I am older, but I would love to know what younger folks think of this film.

Directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz and based on the 1957 one act play of the same name by Tennessee Williams. The film, produced in 1958, stars Elizabeth Taylor, Katharine Hepburn, and Montgomery Clift. Gore Vidal and Williams wrote the screenplay.

The story centers on Catherine Holly (Taylor), a young woman who is traumatized after witnessing the violent death of her cousin, Sebastian Venable (Clift), on a trip to Europe. Catherine is confined to a Catholic church-run mental hospital, but is being thrown out due to her alleged sexual advances toward a 60-year old gardener, and her hyper-sexual ravings and hints of what might have happened in Sebastian's final days in a poor Spanish fishing village.

Her aunt, an ultra-wealthy New Orleans dowager, Violet Venable (Hepburn), wants to hide the events of Sebastian's death and attempts to bribe a young surgeon / psychiatrist, Dr. John Cukrowicz (Clift), to perform a lobotomy on Catherine. However, Dr. Cukrowicz is determined to find out the truth about Catherine's state before taking any action.

The story advances through a number of long conversations Cukrowicz has with Violet and Cathrine, one aided by some sort of "truth serum." The dialog and settings are pure Williams. Flowery. Full of symbolism. There is the decaying mansion with a primordial, overrun garden. One can just smell the rot and mold. There's Violet's hair accessory / fascinator which looks like a giant nest as if some evil bird were nesting on her head. And there are indeed baby sea turtles being eaten by gulls. Venus flytraps devouring insects. Hungry street urchins. Blazing heat. Hints of cannibalism even.

Taylor delivers the goods with her usual histrionics and simmering sexuality. As always she looks stunning. Hepburn is chilling as the cold and calculating Violet with her arch soliloquies and witty comebacks. Clift, though, is flat, without much affect. He apparently was drinking heavily and was taking codeine to relieve pain from a car crash a year earlier. That said, his bland demeanor works well in his role as "investigator," a dispassionate psychotherapist / surgeon.

The movie is handicapped by the motion picture code of that era, and a late 1950s sensibility which precluded direct talk of homosexuality. I remember seeing it as a child on television and not understanding in the least what the characters were talking about, or for that matter what the final scenes meant.

And the whole enterprise is brought down a notch by Williams' and Vidal's overwrought dialog and melodrama, and especially the implausible, over-the-top last fifteen minutes which almost makes this a horror film. The posters for Suddenly emphasized the many "emotional peaks."

Still, though, entertaining if you view it through a late 1950s lens, and have an appreciation for Williams' plays.

I had never seen Andromeda Strain. From all the word of mouth over the decades I was expecting something spectacular. A taut, suspenseful thriller with lots of cutting edge science and high level politics. And the premise hints at thrills ahead: a town has been wiped out by a mystery disease coinciding with a satellite crash. Scientists are rushing to stave off human extinction.

Well, there is certainly science here - how accurate I do not know - but the drama and suspense are at a fairly low level. The star of the movie is the technology. The robotic arms. Pressure chambers. Clean rooms. Elaborate decontamination protocols. And the all knowing computer system which rivals AI today.

The cast is left with little to do except to snap at one another - Kate Reid as Dr. Ruth Leavit is especially sharp tongued - and pace about every now and then look at a clock or television screen. The audience is treated to endless exposition about ph levels, crystalline structures, magnification levels, the size of whatever microorganism is causing the disease outbreak.

The only engaging parts of the movie involve the rescue and treatment of the only two survivors of the town: a starving six-month old and the town drunk, who has a penchant for drinking sterno. Their immunity is key to finding a way to kill the extraterrestrial germs.

There's also a fairly suspenseful five minutes as Dr. Mark Hall (James Olson) struggles with a self-destruct system and laser beams targeting him.

Arthur Hill does a yeoman's job as the bland, mildly-annoyed-at-all-times Dr. Jeremy Stone, leader of the underground bio-research facility. Hill has been in so many television series that it gives the film a made-for-TV vibe.

The art direction won a few awards. And for 1971 it's quite high-tech, save for the carbon ribbon Teletype machines, one of which breaks and causes some major issues. My fave: the 601 error, which shows up on monitors, and signals some sort of information overload - probably from all the exposition it's hearing.

Andromeda Strain is worth a watch if just for the subject, a potential pandemic, and for what the latest technology looked like in 1971. But do not expect much excitement.

I really wanted to love this movie. It promised all the Agatha Christie like elements I love. Secrets to be revealed. An eclectic group of very flawed characters in a confined setting. Class differences. A spooky mansion. Dark humor even.

But we quickly lurch into blandness and predictable plotting. It does not help that eight of the 12 characters are sent away at around the 20-minute mark after abruptly revealing their not very creative secrets. I had wanted to know more about each of them. After there abrupt departure some crosses and double crosses. And a series of flashbacks, one with very strange CGI, and a few bedroom scenes, one of which might be a bit of a surprise to some viewers.

The acting is community playhouse level. Madame Orlofsky, the psychic, (Triin Lellep) has an especially silly "Russian" accent and with the overacting reminded me of Natasha in the Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoon. The screenplay is full of plot holes, the directing pedestrian at best. There is not much in the way of visual interest in the sets. The characters are bland, not as villainous or "off" as they should have been.

Any positives? I understand that parts of this film may be a homage to the Hammer films of the 1950s and 1960s. Maybe. I've watched most of them, and this really too much of an inside joke for me to get.

The only mystery is why The Sixth Secret called a horror. I note a number of reviewers here use the term, as do some of the synopses on other sites. Odd. It's hardly horror. More mystery, sort of, and lame dark comedy.

When this dreadful movie was being produced in 1965 we were well into the Gemini program and Apollo was in the final stages of design. We knew a lot about space then and what it would it might look like for man to explore. Hollywood was there too, with Star Trek and Lost in Space a year or two hence. The visionary 2001: A Space Odyssey just three years away.

And then we have this disaster, Space Probe Taurus, a.k.a. Space Monster. Everything about it reeks ultra cheap 1955 schlock.

The corny, misogynistic, sexist dialog is the first anachronism that shows up. The first officer is a lech. The commander makes it clear up front that he does not think any woman should be in space. He was forced to take on Dr. Lisa Wayne (Francine York, a glam fashion model of the day) as a science officer because the best candidate, a male scientist, was, get this, grossly over weight. (The three male crew members on this voyage are no beauties either).

Poor Dr. Lisa does not have much to do save for looking at some sort of navigation display, fiddling with test tubes, and going in and out of the cramped main compartment via a very, very slow automatic door. Oh and she hands out "meal pills" like she is some interstellar flight attendant. Her best moments are making a few snarky remarks about the commander's retrograde attitudes. Later, after a rare moment of peril, he sort of apologizes for his boorishness and then forces a wet, sloppy kiss on her. Yuck.

Remember: this is 1965. Diana Ring is Mrs. Emma Peel in The Avengers, using her sleuthing and martial arts skills on spies and mad scientists. A few months later Lt. Uhura will be running comms on the starship Enterprise. And 1967 had Julie Newmar and Ertha Kitt as Catwoman bedeviling Gotham City. Empowered women.

The sets are as stale as the chauvinism. I'd say pretty much everything was borrowed from American International's 1950s-era prop warehouse. Barcaloungers, with a fancy fabric upholstery no less -- my grandmother would hav e approved -- for the command compartment. Metal dial rotary phones in Earth Control (AT&T introduced touch tones phones in 1963). Desk microphones too. Even contemporary TV shows like Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea - Irwin Allen was notoriously cheap - and Man from U. N. C. L. E. Had more contemporary design.

Aside from the dated appearance of this movie, there is the lame story loaded with extraneous events that in no way advance the story. In the opening scene, we see the last survivor of another space craft from years earlier being poisoned by toxic gas, but there is no real link to the present (the year 2000) or mention of him again.

There is a delay in the journey as they check out an alien spacecraft that gets in the way of their stop at a manned satellite station. A brief tussle with a humanoid alien leads to a shooting (still using pistols and bullets!) and our human crew blowing up the vehicle and then just heading out into the galaxy - so much for the stop at the space station - with only a passing comment about destroying the first alien life form man has encountered. Like, "Oh well, stuff happens."

Upon crash landing into the sea of the planet Taurus, they set about to repair a computer - looks like mostly splicing some wires - even though no one has even mentioned it is broken.

The actual dialog is lame, at best. Best lines are the crew trying to figure out the giant sea creatures attacking their rocket vessel. Basically: "What can they be? I don't know. Strange. Never seen anything like it." Any sentient human can see they are CRABS. Crabs in an aquarium, attacking a miniature rocket.

And throughout the film, there is confusion, misunderstandings over the differences among constellations, planets, solar systems, galaxies, rogue moons, and even the universes.

I love old, cheesy sci-fi as a guilty pleasure. There is always something to like. And you have to appreciate the producers churning out a movie on such a low budget. I usually end up giving them fives stars just for effort. But wow. This? Nothing forgivable here.

What a surprise. I was expecting to be disappointed as so many sequels are just lame. But The Exorcist II, written and directed by WIlliam Peter Blatty, is a masterful psychological horror. It's high on suspense, dread, and atmospherics, with a fair amount of slow burn, police procedural plotting and even humor thrown in. It's nowhere near as graphic, profane or fast paced as the original which is perhaps why it is a great sequel. I mean how could you top Exorcist number one?

The film stars George C. Scott as Lieutenant William Kinderman, who is investigating a series of murders that bear a striking resemblance to the work of the Gemini Killer who was executed 15 years earlier, coincidentally at about the time of the Regan MacNeill exorcism and Father Karass' unfortunate tumble down the stairs.

As Kinderman digs deeper, he uncovers a disturbing connection between the serial killer and a mysterious patient X played by both Jason Miller and wonderfully creepy Brad Dourif (he's voiced Chucky in all the Child's Play movies) in the psych ward of a nearby hospital. The scenes between patient X and Kinderman are chilling. Lots of dialog and monolog, and yes, some approaching-camp-level over acting, but spellbinding nonetheless.

The hospital itself is unnerving. The psychiatric wing has a 1950s Creedmoor vibe to it, the patients being quite menacing. One disheveled, Alzheimer afflicted woman even manages to walk on the ceiling before she heads out on a field trip to commit mayhem. The nurses have Rached-like demeanors and one in particular is prone to rages. The head psychiatrist has deep "issues." Everyone in the hospital - patients, doctors and nurses - smokes, which was really not a thing even in 1990, which makes us think we are in an institution unmoored from time.

The most unexpected elements are the moments of dark humor, as in a scene from purgatory with cameos from Larry King, Fabio, and Patrick Ewing as the Angel Gabriel no less, all being serenaded by Jimmy Dorsey and his ill-fated band. Or a discussion of a carp swimming in Kinderman's bathtub, which his mother-in-law has slated for dinner.

More disorienting is the way Blatty shoots each scene. The camera always seems to be at an odd angle, or too close or too far. Whether it's just rookie mistakes, or intentional it furthers the viewer's unease. Even the exposition leads to a sense of dread, as a medical examiner explains how a patient was so neatly exsanguinated in his bed. Likely far scarier than actually showing the act.

The finale, the "exorcism" as the title promises, is relatively short but scary enough. Apparently the studio insisted that Blatty invest several million dollars in this scene which in 1990, where digital was nowhere near as advanced as today, would have meant a lot of manual work.

All in all, a scary, but intelligent film. A surprise given the usually bad sequels in the horror genre.

This is a strange but very engaging film. It's a 1965 made-for-TV movie that's never been broadcast the USA and has had only limited DVD exposure. I had never heard of it until Amazon somehow acquired the rights and recommended it. The print is excellent, rare for TV shows and low budget movies of that era.

It was originally produced as a pilot for CBS. It was never greenlighted for a series, so some extra footage was shot and it was turned into a TV movie. Then it was lost to the U. S. due to rights issues, and just lack of interest.

The star is a very low key Martin Landau (from the original Mission Impossible and Space 1999 series) who plays a Los Angeles architect with a side hustle as a psychic investigator / ghost hunter.

You can tell that Landau and his very ghost-skeptical housekeeper, are being set up as the recurring characters in am anthology series. And a huge wall of oil paintings in his spooky cliffside mansion is the likely lead in to each episode. Also starring: Judith Anderson, of Rebecca fame, and Diane Baker from Marnie.

I won't get into the plot, but the writers have included a number of red herrings and a surprising plot twist 3/4s of the way in and another toward the very end. It is really more mystery, skillfully told, than ghost story, involving a gumbo of a Mexican religious shrine; a corpse who has a telephone by her casket (just in case she wakes up!); hallucinogenic drugs; bad parenting; mommy issues (the writer is Jospeh Stefanao who wrote the screenplay for Hitchcock's Psycho); greed; and coverups. The ghost and related sound effects and score give off a low budget Outer Limits vibe, and guess what? Stefano was the producer for the first season of The Outer Limits.

All in all an entertaining, suspenseful 80 minutes.

The only disease here is logorrhea, a communication disorder characterized by excessive wordiness. In the case of The Satan Bug it wipes out any benefit provided by top notch cinematography, a beautiful desert setting, a seasoned cast, a generous budget and for 1965 a breakthrough concept: the risks of bio weapons.

We start with former secret agent Lee Barrett (a very bland George Maharis of Route 66 fame) called in to investigate the murder of the security chief and the disappearance of the head scientist at Station Three, a super-secret bioweapons laboratory in the California desert. We also learn that vials of two ultra-deadly, easily transmittable bacteria have disappeared. All life on the planet could be in peril!

From there we get endless dialog reconstructing the crimes. Even the guard dog gets "questioned" about his injuries. Barrett's old flame, another secret agent, Ann Williams (Anne Francis), shows up but no chemistry there, it's straight to business. Her dad (General Williams, played by Dana Andrews) is, conveniently, heading the operation to recover the vials. He looks like a 1960s TV version of a general.

Many more calls to Washington. Telegrams. More chatter about how the crime could have occurred. A threatening phone call from the Bond-like villain (I wondered if he was stroking his cat; we never see him in villain mode till much later). Some film from Key West showing dead people on a road. It's all interspersed with cars driving in the desert. Characters getting into or out of cars. Parking scenes. Backing up scenes.

Only until an hour in does this dull film pick up the pace. We get a fairly suspenseful chase and a few double crosses. There's a helicopter segment. And a short but suspenseful scene at the then ultra-modern Dodger Stadium. This pushes the movie from two-star to four-star status.

But oddly, with all the talk, there is no discussion about the ethics of manufacturing toxins that can wipe out all life on the planet. Nor hardly any thought given to the villain's motivations. That would have gotten it to seven stars.

So watch The Satan Bug for the photography, the mid-60s vibe, and last 40 minutes. But be warned: the first half of the movie is truly deadly.

I was not expecting much, since I barely remembered seeing it back in 1992 on its release. But what a fun film! It has aged really well.

Sleepwalkers is a horror film written by Stephen King (and not adopted from a novel or story). It stars Brian Krause as Charles Brady, an adolescent "sleepwalker" who, along with his mother Mary (Alice Krige), is am ancient shapeshifting energy vampire who feeds off the life force of virgin women. The film also stars Mädchen Amick as Tanya Robertson, the young woman who becomes Charles's target.

The film starts with dozens of cat corpses hanging outside the Bradys' last home in rural Ohio. Cats see through the Brady's shape shifting ways and get mightily peeved so it's cat traps and gutting for them. Worse, mom and sonny have exhausted the supply of virgins, so they move west to a small town in Indiana. Charles starts high school and immediately sets about to recruit Tanya. He attacks her on their first date, at a cemetery of course, and from there the fun begins.

We encounter bumbling country cops. Car chases. Shape shifting. Several cringe incest scenes. (But mom and son are really, down deep, not human but reptilian, so I guess it is OK). A hero police cat, Clovis The Attack Cat. His many cat friends who menace the Brady's homestead. Attacks on the locals. Impalings on a white picket fence. Even fun cameos: Tanya's parents are played by Cindy Pickett and Lyman Ward who played Ferris Bueller's clueless mom and dad. "Tanya, be home by five!" At the cemetery crime scene we run into Clive Barker, Tobe Hooper, John Landis and Joe Dante.

Best performance: Alice Krige as the steely, protective mom-vampire. Kudos to the cat wranglers.

Great fun.

What a sad sight to see. What a waste of talent. Here we have Ancient Fred Astaire, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr, John Housman, and Melvyn Douglas flailing about in this mess, dealing with flat dialog, choppy directing, plot holes, and slow pacing that never seems to get out of first gear.

They play four very old crotchety Vermont men, the Chowder Society, who get dressed up in tuxes, dim the lights in front of a fireplace, and tell each other ghost stories.

When they are not telling tales, they are are grousing and debating what to do as an old female friend of theirs who has apparently returned as a ghost.

Craig Wasson plays a dual role and provides the only energy here as Astaire's twin sons Don and David who tangle with the ghost. Patricia Neal, God bless her, has all of three lines. Like why is she even in this lame movie?

There's little suspense here. No red herrings. No guessing. The outline of the central "mystery" is revealed early on. There's even less differentiation of the four old men who all meld into 80-something geezers who share a big secret but not much backstory. Their reactions to every slowly revealed plot development is predictable. There is not much reason to care what happens to them.

Astaire was reported to believe at the time that he would die on set. Likely from boredom.

I had never heard of this show until last night when it popped up on my Netflix suggestions. Binge watched the entire first season.

What great fun. I grew up in the 1970s and the show is spot on about so much of that era. The music, the clothes, the homes and cars, and the job stresses. The show even has a Mohican Airways story line which is based on an actual Great Lakes airline of the time: Mohwak Airways.

Better still: as dysfunctional as most of the characters are you still like them, save for maybe the school bully. My fave is Frank Murphy the profane, often angry, Korean War veteran (think Red in That 70s Show), the husband of long suffering, proto-feminist Sue Murphy, and father of three. He works as a baggage handler at the local upstate New York airport, and is soon promoted to ground-operations manager after a colleague has his head chopped off by a propeller. The opening credits neatly summarizes his progression from optimistic, handsome college grad in the early 50s to his current, semi-sad state in 1975 or so.

Then there is layabout, weed smoking Kevin Murphy, his low-achieving 15-year old and aspiring musician who may have suffered brain damage in a pool accident when he was a toddler. Rounding out the family: Bill Murphy, a bullied 12-year old, and Maureen Murphy a super smart 10-year old girl who is dad's favorite and gets away with a lot.

The secondary characters are great too. A wild party-guy radio DJ neighbor. A baggage handler colleague and all round good guy. The vile, greedy airline CEO and owner. And Frank's direct supervisor, a morbidly obese airline mid-level manager. Oh and let's not forget

The situations are pretty predictable which is OK given the other positives. Mom wants "more in life" than just being a housewife. There are union problems at the airline. The kids have their challenges with school and friends. Frank is just frustrated with the lot of them.

I am looking forward to the next few seasons. But wow, who knew such a gem existed? Maybe the writers and actors strike is causing Netflix to ration live action and push the animation. In any event, great fun and looking forward to watching the next few seasons.

This film is a strictly paint-by-the-numbers exorcism film, so I will not waste much time on the plot. The only highlight: Russel Crowe.

It is set in 1987, in Castile, Spain. The basics: an American widow and her two kids -- a negative, bratty teenage girl, and a young boy maybe age eight -- come to an old monastery her recently deceased husband had left her. She's having it renovated with the intention of selling it for a big profit so that her family has some income. Strange things start to happen, and, you guessed it, full on possession of the little boy. (Too bad it is not the I-hate-everything girl).

Who do you call? Yes, Father Amorth (Russel Crowe), the master exorcist and friend of the Pope. He teams up with a local priest, a young and somewhat teen-idol-looking Father Esquibel. I will let the reader guess the progression of the story. There are political shenanigans at the Vatican, research and manuscripts at the Vatican archives (Trinity College's Library in Dublin fills in here -- it has been used for Harry Potter films) and some routine exorcism special effects. You are quickly delivered -- it is paced like a television show -- to a fairly predictable outcome albeit with some twists and reveals and one or two unexplained matters, specifically the motivations of a very young Cardinal from America. He reminded me of the Jude Law character in The Young Pope an old HBO series.

So it's a mildly diverting, not very challenging hour and a half. Good for a stressed out weeknight. But what makes this movie stand out is Russel Crowe's performance. He takes what the writers have given him and turned it into a likable, engaging character. This exorcist has a sense of humor melded with understandable world weariness. I may need to watch, re-watch some other Russel Crowe films.

If I were a betting person, I'd say this movie is a set up for a series or sequel. There is the "cop buddy" vibe of Amorth and Esquibel. The loose ends at the Vatican just scream to be explained in greater detail. I for one, see trouble brewing with the American cardinal.