Jodorowsky's Dune - Because Frank Herbert's Version Didn't Take ENOUGH LSD

If there's one thing I've noticed the more I get into study of film and review (and I suspect this is a fairly common occurrence) it's that I find myself becoming more and more fascinated with the behind the scenes tales of films. Commentaries, memoirs, production diaries, just the various stories of how these projects turn out the way they do provide interesting new perspectives on titles, for good and ill (the amount of money that got spent on The Room, for example, makes the film THAT much funnier/more depressing.)

Strangely enough, some of the best stories are actually the ones about the films that never get made. We see so many films, we almost take for granted that it got made at all, seeing as the figurative graveyard for the number of films that don't see completion would make up a small country at this point. Some of these stories are pretty well known for various reasons; Many for the weapons-grade amounts of Murphy's Law that sabotage them, some to the point of being the stuff of legend just through failure.

This is part of what makes the story behind Jodorowsky's Dune a fascinating one - it's a movie that's ultimately not that focused on the failure, but the attempt.

and also this...
Especially this.

Let's wind the clocks back and set the scene for the moment - it's the mid-1970s. Chilean filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky has gone from being a relative unknown to American moviegoers to conquering the midnight movie circuit with the one-two punch of El Topo and The Holy Mountain. The heavy spiritual meditations combined with his engrossing visual style were like nothing many viewers had seen to that point and are said to have helped completely cement the midnight movie movement of the 70s. Inspired by the two movies, French producer Jean-Michel Seydoux contacted Jodorowsky about making a movie with him, any sort of project Jodorowsky wanted. Without even stopping to think it over, he picked Frank Herbert's science fiction classic Dune- a book he humorously later admitted he hadn't read at the time. What followed was one of the most ambitious projects to never make it to screen. Jodorowsky and Seydoux put together a team that, for the industry at the time, was unheard of: artists like Moebius, H.R. Giger, Chris Foss, and an at-the-time fresh-faced effects guru Dan O'Bannon, music by bands like Pink Floyd and Magma, and a cast including Orson Welles, Salvador Dali (whose demands for agreeing to be in the film lead to some of the funniest stories recalled,) David Carradine, and Mick Jagger.

Considering the outcome, this movie is pretty much the textbook definition of too good to be true.

Yes, even factoring in the fact Moebius intended for Welles to wear the outfit on the left.
That would take a LOT of wine to get him to go along with it.

As I said above, what makes Jodorowsky's Dune stand out for me as a documentary about a film that didn't make it is how little it actually focuses on what went wrong. In fact, the only reason it fell through is pretty benign. No studio wanted to back it, despite many execs being utterly blown away by what was being offered. The film does touch on this, but the bulk of its 88 minutes is more about showing us the offerings rather than exploring why they were turned down.

And said offering, despite never making it past the stage of concept art and storyboards, is still one of the most fascinating things I've seen on the big screen in a while.

Jodorowsky's Dune is a weird case as a documentary goes. In terms of just how it's produced, it's pretty standard in a lot of regards. What really escalates it to being as memorable as it is is their choice in subject. For a film that never happened, it's a genuinely fascinating project. The filmmakers do their best to help give us tastes of it, in particular in a few sequences where they do some colorization and animation on a couple of Moebius's storyboards (most notably in a long take Jodorowsky wanted to open the film with,) and that's certainly one of their own nice touches on it. For the most part though, they're aware this film is ultimately about another team's movie, and so they let them have the floor. Alongside the peeks into the storyboards and concept art, the interviews with all the members of the production team are a good balance of interesting and enjoyable. Of the full team, sadly the only one there are no comments from is the late Moebius, who had died before this entered production (O'Bannon, while also dead, relates some stories via archival interview, including one appropriately funny and bizarre story of his first meeting with Jodorowsky.) Everyone else, meanwhile, relays their own various thoughts at the time they worked on the project as well as their sentiments after the fact - for a film that didn't happen, it's one everyone involved seems to have had a lot of love for.

No one feeling that love any more than Jodorowsky himself, who is probably one of the most interesting people to appear in this film. Besides this ultimately being his brainchild, there's something very infectious in the man's enthusiasm for what he does. Given the nature of his films and how few he's made, it would be easy to almost picture him as a very reserved or withdrawn artist. When he's on camera, however, Jodorowsky is animated and enthusiastic about just about everything. He's a man who genuinely loves what he does and it really helps give this movie a lot of its energy. Even when he's discussing the nature of art, a topic that could easily sound pretentious, he comes across not as being full of himself, but rather just very passionate about making sure he's happy with it. It feels odd to try to sell the man in text here, but really, he's someone where reading statements from one thing, hearing and seeing them from his own mouth is another. The whole team is interesting, but at the center of it all is this man's dedication and energy that pulled everyone together.

As further evidenced by the fact this was the portfolio he put together to send studios.
I will state here for the record - and again in the review - I would love to see this get general publication.

One of the things I find oddest to say walking out of this after is the fact that I genuinely would have loved to see this movie. I will also be the first to acknowledge this would NOT have been a particularly faithful adaptation. We only see samples of the full story - Jodorowsky had all of the film's concept art, script, and storyboards compiled into a book to send to studios (see above) - but those samples show some pretty big deviations. Things like the death of Duke Leto Atreides - a scene that as Jodorowsky and Moebius envisioned it, feels like a sort of futuristic bit of grand guignol or their envisioned finale, in which protagonist Paul Atreides undergoes physical death only to live on in an enlightened form among his followers, are very much products of Jodorowsky and Moebius rather than Herbert's original work. Jodorowsky is pretty open to admit this, and even argues it's something of a necessity in the art of adaptation - albeit care of an analogy that REALLY should have been reconsidered (I know the word 'rape' gets thrown around a lot in discussion of adapting another person's work, but Jodorowsky picks the wrong way to address that here.) I mean, I find the man's openness and frank honesty rather refreshing, but that talking point was one very awkward scene in an otherwise really enjoyable set of interviews. Poor word choice aside, it speaks to the creative efforts on this film that, despite its apparently breaking from Herbert's novel on several levels (which I would still like to see a good adaptation of some day) it's a film I would have genuinely loved to see happen. Even at its very worst, it would at least be a memorable mess.

and, true to Jodorowsky's style, the finest quality eye-porn.
Also, based on what this film's shown me of Foss's art, I have to look into more of it.

I think part of the reason it doesn't phase me much is, as I was watching the movie, I became less and less concerned with the film as an adaptation and instead became more intrigued by the movie in its own right. It's not unlike Kubrick's adaptation of The Shining in that regard, in that it comes across as a film that, independent of its source novel, would still be a legitimately strong story in its own right. At this point, I'd even welcome the possibility of Jodorowsky approving publication of the production bible they put together. Especially since, as this documentary tells it (particularly in an account by Drive director Nicholas Winding Refn) it's a film that they so thoroughly plotted out before filming that, by just looking through their notes, it's almost like watching the film for yourself. The discussion at the start of the movie really speaks volumes about why this project is so fascinating to people even nowadays, it's a project that, even before getting greenlit, inspired such passion that they had all but made it on their own. It was a film they had all but made out, shot for shot, in their heads, and needed only the funding to then play out for the rest of us. That level of dedication right out of the gate is astonishingly rare in film, and I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't love to see more of just how far they had taken it, even if only on paper.

Of course, even though it never did see film, the documentary does also point out that it actually went on to influence a lot of other projects. Jodorowsky and Moebius went on to reuse many of their concepts from the film in several comics, most notably The Incal (which is a pretty wild read if you can ever track down a copy of it). O'Bannon later contacted Moebius and Giger to work with him on Alien, and, as this film points out, a lot of the visual style of this movie would later influence many other science fiction films to come – including such works as Star Wars and the 1980s version of Flash Gordon. It's another way where, even in the field of movies that never happened, Jodorowsky's would-be epic is a particularly special case, and one of those rare titles where one can say it may have just been too ahead of its time and mean it.

After seeing this art for years with no site explaining specifically what it was, learning Giger essentially made a giant techno-mansion based on Welles's image just makes this picture even better.

I realize I've kind of been a bit roundabout on discussing the movie itself, but like I said before: this is a movie that ultimately has its greatest strength in its choice of subject. It's one of the most unusual and intriguing passion projects to become the stuff of cinema legend, and, for a film that got cut down in its prime, its influence echoed on long after it. I can certainly see why; leaving the theater, some of that enthusiasm had rubbed off on me. This is one of those films that winds up stoking the creative itch, in a weird sort of way (not bad for being about an unfinished project.)

I'm not sure if this will be making anyone's top ten lists when the year wraps up, but as of now, I can honestly say it's certainly one of the most memorable moviegoing experiences I've had in a good long while.

...okay, with that, I'll finally get the Captain America review up soon. But humor me, I'd been waiting to see this movie for a while now.

Till next time.
...and this may officially be the strangest image I've ended an article with in a good long while.

From the Angry Old Man Department - Instant Franchise, Just Add Brand

Why yes, this is another largely useless department here at the Third Row. I'll be honest with you- It mainly just exists as another excuse to horde office supplies.

You laugh now, but when you find yourself hard up for a stapler, you'll remember me and my citadel of them. Then who will be laughing?

...Okay, I promised angry old man, not delusional.

Anyway, this has been an interesting few weeks in the film circles as far as comic book films. Actually, this time of year is shaping up as an interesting one. For one thing, DC confirmed the inevitable moment we all knew/dreaded coming - yes, a Justice League movie WILL happen, and they have Zack Snyder locked to direct. Whether or not this is because Snyder managed to make Man of Steel profitable for them (...well, Snyder and an ad campaign that was the PR equivalent of carpet bombing) neither DC nor Warner Brothers has said. For another, over the last few weeks, we have seen/will be seeing the continuing installments in not one, but three different comic book franchises.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier opened a few weeks back to probably some of the best reviews Marvel has gotten since The Avengers came out (and deservedly so. This will likely see a writeup in the near future here, even though it's a bit late for its release.) In another few weeks, Fox will be rolling out its next X-Men installment, Days of Future Past, which will either solidify their comeback or bury it, depending how things proceed. Finally, this weekend, Sony released their follow-up to their Spider-Man reboot, The Amazing Spider-Man 2. This, in particular, is the one that's inspiring my angry old man grumblings.

The Amazing Spider-Man brand hasn't been sitting particularly well with me for a while now. The first film was...okay. Not awful, but not really as amazing as its title would suggest either. The arbitrary retread of the Spider-Man origin story felt rather forced at the time, but given Sony was trying to hang onto their license of the character in response to the building steam of the Marvel money train, I was willing to let them have a quick brand lock and trust they would at least try more the next time around.

This was also around the time The Avengers happened. With a wave of strong reviews and audience response, Marvel's big gamble paid off with a vengeance. It was pretty safely locked for one of the biggest hits of 2012 and the entire effort was seen as a game changer for how comic book movies would be made.

...and Sony took the absolute wrong lesson from it.

Of course, I can't say it's JUST on Sony here, seeing as DC/WB has also been pretty openly trying to jump-start their own super franchise in light of the movie's success. When they went from a standalone Superman movie to announcing its sequel would also feature Batman, Wonder Woman, and even Cyborg with the intent of turning this into a Justice League project, it was no surprise that people read this as a pretty bald-faced attempt to ape Marvel's success.

Which is particularly unfortunate since, as I've said before, Man of Steel wasn't a bad idea for a movie. Doing a film that tried to break from the Richard Donner mold was a great idea, and actually playing more with the idea of the possible mistrust Superman would face as an outsider was a concept with a lot of potential to build from. Even some of what Snyder and Goyer gave us was decent, if flawed. I left the film thinking what they had left this one off with could be salvaged with some more thought and work on a sequel. For a couple of weeks after its release, I was even willing to go to bat for them on the idea that this could be growing pains. Then they made the fateful announcement that the sequel would be Batman vs Superman and I was willing to concede I'd backed the wrong horse. They weren't interested in trying to fix up the flaws in their new Superman - they'd gotten a profit out of it and that was enough. Now they were gonna take this sucker to the big leagues as hard and as fast as possible.

I could make all manner of tasteless analogies for what they're doing there, but you get the idea.

Not ones to be outdone, Sony is now busting their humps to turn their Spider-Man license into its own super franchise as well. It was actually pretty striking that, in the months ticking down to ASM 2's release, for every announcement about what the movie itself would contain, their would be at least one, often more, announcements heralding Sony's plans for the overall Spider-Man brand - including announcements of spinoffs already in the works for supporting characters like the Sinister Six and Venom. The former of these also resulted in some criticisms towards the current movie, care of the fact Paul Giamatti's four minutes of screentime seems to amount to little more in the film than to set up the next movie. Even up to the week of the movie's release, Sony was rattling off more of their future plans than having anything to say about the film itself - they even made announcements about the ASM 2 Blu-Ray release before the film was even in theaters. It was like a Mel Brooks gag come to life.

Then the movie came out, with all the mixed reception, the speculation was confirmed. Even now the film is currently the most critically roasted Spider-Man movie. Yes, even more so than the infamous Spider-Man 3 from the Raimi years. One of the big reasons for this - as many people pointed out in reviews, was the fact the movie devotes more of itself to hyping up future releases than it does to making the movie it has here and now good. In fact, a friend of mine over at MoarPowah probably put the problem best when he described the film as not a movie, not a trailer, but a two and a half hour long power point of Sony's plans for the next ten years.

Not that this is necessarily a shock at this point. Between the Giamatti confirmation happening months before the film's release, and even ASM 2 teasers containing blatant hints of upcoming villains care of gear for the Vulture, Sony has been pretty clear this film is being made with one eye on the camera, the other on the business plan.

While I have concerns for Fox's actions here, I'll admit, I'm inclined to give them a half pass on this one. Not because I necessarily thing DoFP will be good - it could go either way at this point. Rather because they've been building up X-Men for a while now. I mean, they've been at this brand for a good ten years off and on now. While it's not at the same level of work and dedication as Marvel's shown on the Avengers project, they've at least paid their dues so far. Whether this marks a continued rise or fall is all on the individual film now, but at least it feels - for now at least - like they're focusing on just making this film work first before they start jumping on future projects.

Which brings us to where the old man in me is bitter and rambling. The reason Sony and DC/WB are annoying me as much as they are - especially in Sony's case, is because of the utterly blatant the attempts to piggyback off the success of The Avengers. In both cases, they're essentially operating as though a big cross-media franchise will be a given, rather than a possibility. It's like they forget just how much of a roll of the dice the first Iron Man movie was years ago, given that was the film that would ultimately make or break Marvel's chances at the Avengers effort. Prior to its release, they'd played those plans close to the chest, and even after its release, they were pretty careful. It wasn't until after the success of The Avengers and its follow-up features that they decided to announce plans for the next fourteen years of movies.

I feel a fourteen year plan might be a bit excessive - but Marvel has paid their dues here, so for now, they can do as they will. By comparison, DC and Sony have each had two relatively successful, if not particularly memorable, films to their names and were following them up with plans for a big industry on the spot. This wasn't even a matter of taking a slow road to get there - it's again worth pointing out that DC intends to use their Superman movie to bus in Batman and Wonder Woman. They're in such a hurry to get to the Justice League that they don't even want to give two of their brand's vaunted 'big three' chances to stand on their own, which is particularly damning given just how little representation Wonder Woman has had so far. On the other side of the coin, rather than going for the big event film, Sony is already convinced with two movies they have enough ground laid to spin off films for supporting characters and villains that, at this point, have really had little to no screentime.

Maybe I'm finally just that bitter old man I joke about. Maybe the industry's changed and I just have a hard time keeping up. All I know is, looking at this model, I just keep hearing the old Yoda line:

“This one a long time have I watched. All his life has he looked away...to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm? What he was doing. Hmph.”

I wouldn't mind this approach if the films being made in the present were good. Unfortunately, it feels too much like they're so caught up in the dream of pulling in Avengers money that they're not actually bothering to see if the films they're making now are even worth a damn. It also gets harder to shake the concern that, if this keeps up, we'll see audiences lapse into a state of comic book film burnout within the next few years, causing even Marvel's thought out plans to take a hit.

Granted, this isn't a new observation, and other, better people than me have likely already made this same observation. Still, sometimes it helps to just get something out of the system.

Or, for those who want me to be more succinct:

Sony, Warner Brothers -

HOLD YOUR FREAKING HORSES! FOCUS ON MAKING THE FILMS YOU HAVE NOW BETTER BEFORE YOU JUMP TO THE NEXT ONES!

...sorry. I can only play it polite just so far. Either approach, I think the point is clear. A franchise needs at least some quality before you can make with the quantity, guys.

Got a review coming your way in the next couple of days to make up for this (no, it won't be CA just yet.)

Till then though!

Berserk: The Golden Age Arc I - The Egg of the King - Give Blood. Lots of It.

Apologies for the delays on write-ups. The situation in a nutshell is that my laptop decided sometime last week that this would be a good time to try and fit its whole figurative fist in its mouth. Which was a cool trick at first...then it couldn't get it out again.

So, after three years of mostly loyal service, I'm in the process of hunting down a replacement. I'm working off an interim computer in the meantime, which brings us to this writeup.

In the few weeks of technological knockout, I've been getting reacquainted with a series. It's a fairly popular ongoing fantasy series known for its parallels to real medieval history, an alarmingly high mortality rate among its cast, and concerns within its fanbase over the idea that the author may be dead before he gets around to bringing it all to an end.

...okay, yes, that IS Game of Thrones, but that's not what I'm referring to. At least that has a contingency plan should something happen to Martin.

It also waited a little while before easing into the more brutal on-screen murder, but that's a discussion for another time.

Berserk has been my go to answer to people saying A Song of Ice and Fire has been taking too long. Besides the now public knowledge contingency plan, we know Martin at least has a project ending in sight, and compared to other titles, has been making good time meeting it. By comparison, Berserk has been running for longer (preceding ASoIaF by six years), is meted out in much smaller increments, and has been taking its time to such an extent that it's become a punchline within the fandom.

Despite that, the story is still generally pretty good. In particular it's done well enough to inspire now two animated adaptations. The first was a TV series that ran in the late 90s, and was later released in the US to become quite the hit here. The second is a much more recent trilogy of films meant to kick-start a revival to adapt the full manga.

Which brings us to now.

The Egg of the King is the first of three films that are designed to adapt the 'Golden Age' arc of the Berserk manga. This storyline, while not the first featured in print, is ultimately the backstory that establishes everything (and, to be fair, they can always recap the 'Black Swordsman' and 'Guardians of Desire' arcs in a single movie after this should they feel so inclined.) Telling a story in prolonged flashback, it introduces us to protagonist Guts (Hiroaki Iwanaga,) a swordsman born of a cursed fate who has been living day to day as a mercenary. After proving himself at a fateful battle, he catches the eye of charismatic mercenary leader Griffith (Takahiro Sakurai,) a seemingly superhuman man propelled by his ambitions. What follows? Well, that'd be getting into spoilers.

Moments like this I almost question if it's even worth the caption. I mean, this one practically writes a ream of material right here.

Anyway, the first film concerns Guts's first meeting Griffith and later joining his mercenary corps, The Band of the Hawk. It then proceeds to work through several of the main events of the first part of the story, most notably their meeting with recurring antagonist Nosferatu Zodd (Kenta Miyake) and Griffith's growing prominence in the noble circles (and the subsequent ire that earns him.)

One of the things that's still surprising to realize about this movie is how short it is. I mean, we live in a culture where nowadays it's almost unheard of for an action movie to come in at under two hours. By comparison, the first Berserk movie clocks in at all of an hour and sixteen minutes. Now it's rare to even find kids films that short.

That said, that brisk runtime is something of a, and I'm sorry to use this term here, double-edged sword for the movie. On the one hand, it keeps it from overstaying its welcome, and the movie keeps its plot at a lively pace. On the other hand, it means in order to cover the ground it wants to, arcs have to be folded over, cut out, or just skimmed over. This is especially pronounced in the first part - after a fairly well-handled and even expanded version of the siege where Guts proves himself by taking down the knight Bazuso, much of the subsequent arcs where his childhood and his early sorties getting to know his fellow members of the Band of the Hawk are all largely left out. The former is actually briefly hinted at care of a series of fever dream flashbacks by an injured Guts - it's an interesting way to try and cover the material (and somewhat thankful in a way of getting around one REALLY unpleasant part of his past) but if one isn't familiar with the original manga, the events are rather hard to make sense of. The last shot of the nightmare especially loses its impact if a viewer has no idea who the man Guts is watching die is. It's still a very effective sequence for dropping hints and just capturing the nightmare feel well, but it's a bit of a hurdle for any newcomers in the crowd. By comparison, the other early sorties are just dropped altogether, and after Guts is officially made a member, the movie jumps to a 'Three Years Later' card.

The second half of the movie has overall better pacing, and to its credit, makes a decent effort try and transition between the smaller plots to give the movie less of an episodic feeling. They don't always work too well, but the effort is at least appreciated, and a few of the new bits are actually pretty good means of maintaining the flow and tightening up events.

One of the better examples from this - both for scene bridging and time compression - comes care of a bridged scene where several nobles are seen discussing Griffith's successes on the battlefield. It's a pretty standard narrative trick - classic Greek chorus style recap - but it still makes for a decent transition events-wise, especially to help establish just how much of an upset his succeeding despite his common lineage is in the eyes of the nobles. Also, the decision to do this scene all through silhouettes is something of a nice touch. Yeah, it's likely to help save on some animation, but it does also help convey the notion that this small group is representing the sentiments of all of the nobility in Midland.

I'm trying my best not to compare this too much to the earlier series, because they're two different adaptations and two different formats, but I have to admit, it's very hard not to. Especially since it seems each picks up the ball where the other drops it.

Direction is a big example of this. The movie isn't particularly bad from a directorial standpoint, and there are a few scenes that I like the handling of in this version- most notably the end of the movie. Choosing to end the film with Griffith explaining his ambitions to the king's daughter, Charlotte, is a good choice to end the movie on - it helps remind us of the kind of man Griffith really is underneath it all, and how much his dreams define who he is. It's a scene that is vital to really helping establish his character, and without giving too much away, the movie sells both the delivery and the foreboding about how far this man might go. At other times in the film, however, the direction lacks something of the same impact the earlier version had. One of the biggest examples of this going to the confrontation with Zodd. Now, I liked parts of how the film handled this scene (most notably Guts's walking past the corpses of his men to the reveal of Zodd) but the scene lacks the overall ominous sense that was hanging over the scene in the earlier version- particularly in its last moments, which are supposed to be a grim bit of foreshadowing for events to come.

"BOOOOOONESAW IS REEEEEAAADYYYYY!"
(...actually, I'd watch a version of this with Zodd dubbed by the late Randy Savage, but I digress.)

Outside of comparison, one sequence I will give the movie that is unique just to this version actually goes to the opening sequence. The siege the movie starts with is well done, both in terms of building up (the sequence starts with the sounds of combat muted staring at the sky before flying to the ground and the Hellish din of war) and the extent to which it's covered (the effects of the siege are shown at several levels, from soldiers to noncombatants, all moving fast in keeping the chaos of the sequence.)

On the comparison front, one area where this film holds a sizable edge is with regards to animation. I'm not sure how much budget the show had to work with, but I can honestly say its animation has NOT aged well at all. In fact, I was struck by just how often the show relied on stills and pans to get around certain sequences (to compare the two versions of the Bazuso scene, I was struck by the fact the series version apparently meant Guts had signed up to a corps of combat-trained ventriloquists. Everyone talking, no mouths moving.) By comparison, the movie's computer-based animation means they can do a lot more with motion. This isn't to say it's perfect - in fact, the large scale battle sequences tend to be plagued by a sort of stiff motion that causes many of the actions to look more like game cut-scenes, an effect only added to by the 'generic' faces on a lot of the soldiers under their helmets, which look eerily flat. It's like watching Guts fight his way through full-size Lego minifigures. At other times, however, the motions look surprisingly good, and at times it's easy to forget it's not CG animation because certain scenes manage to capture the 2D look well. As an animation style, this has a long way to go, but it's still come quite a ways from, say, the earlier Appleseed movies.

One of the tamer of the many scenes that had to be cut from The Lego Movie to maintain its family-friendly rating.

Alongside the animation, I do have to give this movie some extra points for the effort put into the combat choreography. One of the consequences of the earlier version's corner-cutting in animation was the fact many kills simply amounted to a still shot of a character with their sword drawn and their opponent spraying blood behind them. This time, they're better able to capture the speed and style used in the kills, so the fights become more than just 'swing once, NEXT.' I was actually surprised at some of the techniques they had animated some of these characters using for kills, particularly because many of them made sense in terms of 'you can target areas besides just swinging at the head or chest.' I continue to concede some of the motions are still a bit stiff, but hopefully that will be improved upon as the films go on.

At this point, about the only thing I really have to say sat fully wrong with me on this movie was the soundtrack. Now, Shiro Sagisu's score isn't bad on its own, but it's similar to comparing the scores Leonard Rosenman and Howard Shore did for their respective versions of Lord of the Rings. The Rosenman one is decent, but ultimately a pretty standard issue fantasy movie score. By comparison, Shore's version was a distinct part of its setting, and really helped define the films. The same has happened here - for years, Susumu Hirasawa has been the go-to composer for Berserk's music. First recommended by the original author, his score for the earlier series was, and still is, one of the best features of the show. The man's electronic-based score was a surprisingly good fit for the universe, with its sometimes tribal, sometimes unearthly quality that has since lead to his being called back to provide songs for several tie-in games to the series. We still get some of that feel in his one contribution to this version, the movie's opening theme Aria, but not hearing his style in the rest of the setting just feels off-putting. I know it sounds like an odd grievance to have, and comes across as just being critical of change, but it speaks to just how much his music had become a part of the world. Sagisu's score is still good, but it just does not seem to fit here.

"...and just watch. I'm gonna get blamed for all of this mess."

As far as the cast, I will admit I've only checked out the subtitled version so far (as the cast notes indicate.) The knowledge the dub brought back the cast of the series, which had a good quality dub all around, does speak very well for this, and has me curious to check it out in the future. The sub cast, on the other hand, are all largely recast compared to the original version. In this regard, they have proven well suited for the cast so far. Particularly surprising in the case of Iwanaga as Guts, who is still apparently quite new to voice acting. As the other main lead of the movie, Sakurai's Griffith strikes a good balance between his friendlier side and that underlying ruthlessness that goes with the character's drive. Rounding them out, Yukinari's turn as Casca is good so far, though she hasn't really gotten to do much with the role yet. This will change with the events of the second movie, so I'll withhold my full judgment on her for now.

In all, Egg of the King is a decent bid to reboot the title for animation. It's not a triumph out of the gate, but its failings also aren't so bad as to want to write things off. As is, it's taking the series out on the road for the first time in years, and in that regard, it's running better than expected. There's still a lot of things they can improve, but at this point it's less something to condemn, and more something to hope for in future movies. How far they take this project remains to be seen, but it's still off to a decent, if occasionally shaky, first step.

Whew. Not bad for a short film.

Hopefully, I'll have the laptop sorted out by next week at latest. In the meantime, I'll have another entry lined up for later this week. In the meantime, please bear with the delays, and we'll be back on schedule soon enough.

Till then!

Mobile Suit Gundam: Char's Counterattack - The Final* Chapter

*(Until Bandai and Sunrise decide they can get away with otherwise, that is.)

It's that time of the month again, folks.
Seeing as I have something lined up for Holy Week next week (that's actually not blasphemous) this week seemed as good a time as any for this month's entry for Gundam's 35th anniversary.

This one is something of a major milestone in the franchise's history on a couple of levels. For starters, this was the first completely original Gundam movie ever made, as opposed to the earlier films being a recut compilation. This was also the first big effort by creator Yoshiyuki Tomino to close the book on several big story elements once and for all.

Before we get into the movie itself, though, it's history time (again. Sorry, a lot of time passed between the last movie and this.)

When we last left things, Gundam had gotten big- Very big. It was a breakout hit for Sunrise, and there was an interest in continuing the story. However, Tomino wanted to move on. In the years following the original series, he in fact went on to try his hand at several other shows to distance himself from Gundam, including Aura Battler Dunbine, Space Runaway Ideon, and Combat Mecha Xabungle. Each of these went in different directions in terms of ideas and tone, and really carved out unique identities for themselves that have allowed them to endure to this day. Yet nothing was quite as big as Gundam. Eventually (and this is one of those areas where a combination of lack of much behind the scenes info getting out combined with a language barrier makes the story hazy for English-speaking fans) he finally came back to give his hit series a sequel.

Mobile Suit Zeta Gundam was designed to be a darker look at the follow-up to the original series. After the devastation of the One Year War, the Federation's more corrupt elements were able to seize power via a special operative branch known as the Titans. Rather than being a retread 'Earth vs Space' concept, the show played as an internal civil war in the Federation, with the protagonists being in the splinter organization known as the AEUG (Anti-Earth United Government...it's Engrish folks, this could have been a LOT worse.) Without saying too much to give things away, the show stuck to its darker guns to the very end- which ended on a cliffhanger with many characters dead and the threat of a new Zeonic revival on the rise.

Literally the week after Zeta ended, its sequel series ZZ Gundam began. After the bleak finale of its predecessor, this show opted to try for a lighter tone. Depending who you ask, this decision was either a much needed dose of levity after an overly depressing ending or a rather clumsily added element of forced humor that really didn't fit. Suffice it to say, to this day, ZZ remains something of a divisive title within the fandom. As the show went on, it regained some more serious elements, but kind of hit some snags in the final arc.

This is where Char's Counterattack comes into play. Again, the information here is fuzzy thanks to cultural and language barriers, but as the stories have gone, ZZ originally was being set up with a much different finale than what it has now. As the stories have gone, ZZ WAS going to be the big finale, with Char (who was last established as MIA at the end of Zeta) coming back, taking control of his organization back from its established leadership, and leading one last push against the Earth in a big 'winner take all' ending. How much of that was meant to come to pass is a subject that's up for debate, but the show certainly shows signs it was being rewritten as they went, and this movie is the big reason why. It was greenlit mid-way into the series, and so any and all plans involving bringing Char back were reworked to free up elements and set the stage for the movie.

There, that's about as spoiler-free as I can get that for you.

Onto the movie.

Char's Counterattack opened in March of 1988, and was being advertised as the big finale. Fun fact regarding that - if you can get access to the old R1 Bandai Entertainment release, the bonuses do include the old Japanese promotions for the movie. It's not an exaggeration to say the movie was hyped up this way. This was the huge final chapter that was going to settle everything once and for all.

Suffice it to say, a lot got promised. How much got delivered? That's a matter of some debate.

Char's Counterattack is one of those movies that I find has a lot both going for it and against it. If I had to pick the single biggest problem with it, it's probably in the fact that it's ultimately trying to do a lot more than the time allows for. Unfortunately, unlike the earlier trilogy, there isn't really an alternative series version to check out, which has the breathing room to expand on these ideas. Unless someone takes it on themselves to translate the novels Tomino also wrote based on the story (and even those you take with a grain of salt, since he treated his novels as a separate continuity from his animated works) this is the only version we have to go on. Part of the problem with that is the fact that this movie hits the 'in media res' button pretty hard. More to the point, it smashes it with a full fist. As a general rule, Tomino as a storyteller tends to be big on in media res anyway, and when he's doing it with a series, that's one thing. In a series, it's a solid hook that you have the time to then unfold all the events of your narrative. Trying to do it in a movie that's only slightly longer than two hours becomes problematic. This is especially true in the first fifteen minutes where you're inundated with a lot of information that even those familiar with the previous series will find a bit confusing. The only thing we really get close to a handout as the audience is a single line in the opening scene, when Londo Bell officer Chan Agi (Mitsuki Yayoi) explains the situation - Char's back (and still voiced by Shuichi Ikeda,) he's leading Neo-Zeon, and as this is going on, he's getting ready to pull a Bond Villain and drop an asteroid onto Earth. That's the closest thing you're going to get to a lifeline this entire movie, kids. Hope you can swim.

"The next one we'll be hitting the Earth with will be THIIIIIIIIIIS big!"

Now, one of the other big drawbacks here is, in media res can still be relatively well-navigated with the right protagonist -- someone who's as inexperienced as the audience is and is learning as they go is a great fit for this sort of role.  The problem is, CCA's protagonist is NOT the man for the job - with Char's revival, it all comes to Amuro Ray (Tohru Furuya,) back in the pilot seat again and now a good deal more level headed and skilled, to finish the fight. It's a nice growth for the character, and proof he's come a long way from that wet-behind-the-ears fifteen-year-old who fell into a robot by chance, but he's already so immersed in what's going on that there's no opening to give the audience a learning curve. He certainly tries to explain parts of it while discussing strategy, but that context can only take things just so far.

Fortunately, parts of the story can at least be relatively easily inferred as you go along, but it doesn't wash all of the situation, and it's rather telling that the R1 release of this came with a booklet just to help make sense of the setting for the era (granted, it also didn't help that the English release jumped straight past the two follow-up series so we went straight from Mobile Suit Gundam to CCA with Zeta only being released much later and ZZ only seeing an official release via streams last year.) Of course, even when you get past parsing out the jumbled setting, the movie still has its problems. Once you get your bearings on the setting (again, that feeling should diminish after the first fifteen minutes or so) the fact is, the movie feels very rushed in terms of how it all progresses. It's technically a complete narrative, but the number of jumps it makes to keep the action flowing really get awkward at times. The overall story feels like it might have been better served as a short OVA series as opposed to fitting it all into a single movie. As it is, it feels like watching a compilation feature for a show that never happened - you can imagine where other scenes would have been, but they're just gone.

Suffice it to say, with a story like this, the characters get hit hard. Most of the returning characters make out alright. Like I said before, Amuro's arc is actually a pretty good development for him after the shell-shocked young man we last saw in Zeta, seeing him turn into a capable veteran who has still managed to hold on to some faith in humanity is actually a pretty satisfactory end point for him. Likewise, Bright (Hirotaka Suzuoki) continues to hold up as the closest thing the franchise had to this point for a recurring focal character. It feels a bit strange to not see him in any sort of mentor role this time out, but he's still holding his own as a soldier who, despite working for a fairly crooked government, is doing his best to keep the general citizens from having to pay for the failings of their leaders. The one recurring character who takes the hardest hit in this is none other than our titular antagonist. Char's depiction in this movie has been the source of all manner of essays and arguments in the fandom for years and sparking a LOT of different opinions. To some people, his turn from being patient with humanity in Zeta to going "Nuts to this! I'm gonna force humanity off the Earth!" is a regression from the arc the character had been set on over the course of two series. To others, it's a sign of how the events of ZZ (which he was largely absent for) embittered the man on any sort of hope for the future. Which isn't a bad reading, but it's one the movie never even seems to entertain. In fact, almost nothing is said for what prompted his change of gears, even though Amuro has several times in the film where he essentially does ask Char "What the Hell, man?" Further, Char's suddenly deciding after all this time he's not actually over Lalah Sune (Keiko Han returning in a brief role) feels like a considerable step back to a lot of people. It's kind of a shame that, while Amuro actually had a pretty natural growth from the insecure kid he was into a pretty reasonable adult, Char's descent instead feels like a massive derailment due to lack of explanation. I'm not saying they even needed to do a lot to explain it, but the fact is, it isn't even one that inference helps.

"Son, what did I just get finished telling you? As a little kid, you were essentially a non-character. We'll get back to you later!"

As for the new cast, due to little time they get, most of them never really get beyond their archetypes. A large chunk of time in the film is devoted to new (well, semi-new in Hathaway's case, but seeing how little he did in Zeta, he may as well be new) characters Hathaway Noah and Quess Paraya (Nozomu Sasaki and Maria Kawamura) but they never really seem to benefit from the extra focus. In the end, they amount to little more than a naïve kid in over his head, and a stubborn kid who thinks she knows more about the world than she actually does (a personality that has made Quess a pretty heavily disliked character in the fandom. Then again, Hathaway's not much more popular.) This is kind of a shame, since the two present an interesting sort of counterbalance to Tomino's running theme in the two prior series about how adults don't understand and the future should be trusted to the children. By comparison, Quess and Hathaway seem to be his way of going "...although sometimes, children are just plain wrong, too."

When your own mobile suit doesn't even want you, THAT should tell you something!

Alongside them, the support pilots on both sides are incredibly one-note characters: Kayra (Shinobu Adachi) is brought into the film with a crosshairs on her forehead, Rezin (Kazue Ikura) is just obnoxious, and Gyunei (Kouichi Yamadera) is just a walking heap on inadequacy complexes that eventually leads to a completely underwhelming fate. About the only other character even worth mentioning for much here is Quess's father, Adenauer (Shunsuke Shima) and that's mostly just cause, on this rewatch, I've kind of realized just how played out the self-serving Earth politician character type is in this franchise. At the point this was made, it was still somewhat flexible, but nowadays, it really does feel like an easy out for writers to avoid having to actually write a character.

...okay, there's Chan also. But there's not a whole lot I can say for a character who was mainly written in because the backers didn't like Amuro's girlfriend from Zeta.

To the movie's credit, however, where it fumbles on storytelling, it succeeds on several technical levels.
While the film's story doesn't fully come together, there are several individual sequences that are well written and directed. Sequences like Char's rallying speech at Sweetwater and the opening battle over the asteroid Fifth Luna, even if the latter is somewhat steeped in awkward information-dump, are strongly put together sequences; the former for capturing the element of Char as a statesman as well as helping convey just the full spread of Neo-Zeon and its standing, both in the speech and just how the crowds are depicted, and the latter for establishing the two-fold nature of Amuro and Char's conflict, exchanging words as they exchange blows- a storytelling element that is, admittedly, somewhat played out in the franchise overall, but played well here.

In general,  the combat in this movie is very well arranged. The above-mentioned Fifth Luna battle captures the kind of chaotic disarray Tomino had previously achieved with the climax of the original Gundam. Further, the entire final battle over Axis- in particular the final duel between Amuro and Char is up there with some of the best combat sequences Tomino has put together- rivaling some of his work on Victory Gundam as some of the best fight sequences in the franchise. That last duel is honestly one of the highlights of the movie ñ as Amuro and Char lock in their final battle in which every weapon is used, till they finally just go at each other slugging it out in (giant robotic) hand to hand combat.

...you know what, why pick just? Insert a Rock 'Em' Sock 'Em Robots joke of your choice here.

Further adding to those fights, the movie's mobile suits are all well designed by Yutaka Izubuchi. After the varied (but admittedly still pretty damn nice) designs over the course of Z and ZZ, the majority of the mobile suit designs in this film actually feel more like a thought out design progression, with the Jegan and the Geara Doga as the next evolutionary jumping off points for the GM and Zaku. Further, the two main designs of the movie, the Nu Gundam and the Sazabi, also carry that evolution of design, evoking callbacks to the two suits that started it all ñ the original RX-78 Gundam and Char's own custom Zaku. They are also very unique designs on their own, but one can see the stylistic call back in them.

"Who's failing to hit NOW?"

On top of all of this, the film's soundtrack, by Shigeaki Saegusa, is probably one of the strongest parts of the movie. For a movie that was being advertised as the big showstopping finale of the original Gundam storyline, Saegusa's soundtrack gives the movie a suitable send-off. With tracks that range from the symphonic and bombastic (the main titles, Nu Gundam's theme) to the quieter, but still emotional ('Quess Paraya', 'Sacrifice') the film's score helps the film maintain the necessary sense of grandeur that it was trying for, even if the rest of the film doesn't always hit it. Further, in continuing the franchise's good track record with vocal insert tracks, the movie's end theme, 'Beyond the Time' by TM Network is up with 'Ai Senshi' from the second MSG movie in terms of the franchise's memorable theme songs.

In all, for the movie that was supposed to be the big finish to the original Gundam trilogy, it's a pretty uneven closer. The  strong visual eye and the fact that it has one of the best scores of the  the franchise make it a very impressive spectacle if nothing else. Unfortunately, for as many interesting ideas and strong individual sequences as it brings to the table, it's still got many problems with its pace and a feeling that large chunks of story got left out. The result is still an interesting experience, but one that feels like it could have benefited from having much more time to tell its story than it had to work with.

That brings us to the end of this month's entry. As fun facts go, this month also actually marked the official birthday of the franchise, with the first episode of the original series debuting on April 7th. Also, as I said before, despite Tomino's best efforts to close the book, Sunrise and Bandai weren't inclined to just let a good thing die, as we'll be learning again next month.

In the meantime, as promised, next week will see the plan for Holy Week, which should prove an interesting discussion.

Till then!

The Wind Rises

The biggest thought I had after seeing The Wind Rises was that, more than anything, I hope this truly isn't Hayao Miyazaki's final film. This stems from two reasons; on the one hand, there was something very enjoyable to being able to see another film from the master in theaters for the first time - especially since, despite this being a man declaring retirement, parts of this movie are up there with some of his prime work. However, to be perfectly honest, this is a disappointing movie for a man of Miyazaki's caliber to go out on. It's not awful – in fact, there are several good elements going into it – the problem is, the movie as a whole is a rather weak offering from an industry titan.

Based on a manga written by Miyazaki, the movie is a rather ambitious effort for him – a biographical account of Jiro Horikoshi, the designer whose work would become famous most notably through the Mitsubishi Zero fighter plane (Miyazaki covers his childhood and (roughly) follows the various steps in his life that lead to the development of the fighter). This is, first and foremost, a story of one man's pursuit of his dreams of flight. On paper, this should serve as a great jumping off point – making a person's passion into the centerpoint of a story can make for a great exploration of their personality and drive, and is fertile ground for a lot of good storytelling. Which is why it feels strange when the movie doesn't fully connect.

To Miyazaki's credit, his direction on individual sequences in this movie is up there with some of his greatest work. The film starts off on particularly a strong note with its introduction of young Jiro, care of a dream sequence which helps us establish his love of flight in general, as well as why he goes into design (as his poor eyesight hinders his abilities to be a pilot). This is conveyed phenomenally well, and establishes all of it without saying a word. Jiro's flight of fancy is a visually rich sequence that's on par with many of Miyazaki's previous greats – especially near the end as reality intrudes on Jiro's vision  with an air raid by a group of shapeless monsters. The sequence could have still been memorable had it just cut off with Jiro soaring the skies in his home-made dream plane, but this extra touch gives a memorable visual dash while also further establishing his character.

"...my God. It's full of planes..."

Dream sequences in general are a big part of Jiro's characterization, though the bulk of the others are more focused on his conversations with a dream version of Gianni Caproni. These make for an interesting alternative to an internal dialogue and are an effective way at helping guide us visually through Jiro's thought process. This is further added to by the fact that, for being ultimately a plot device, Caproni is still a likable character regardless. His role as first a friendly mentor and later contemporary make up a good chunk of Jiro's development as far as his pursuit of his dream.

Outside of the dreams, the movie is a bit more scattershot. We do still get some other great sequences from a directorial standpoint, but the story suffers for reasons I'll get into shortly. Still, the sequences certainly merit their due here, most notably during an early part of the movie in which Jiro is caught in the middle of the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923. This sequence is probably the strongest example of directing in the movie, and one can certainly see how Miyazaki was influenced by Japan's recent quake. These sequences are very effective at capturing the chaos and destruction of the quake and its ensuing fires while never feeling exploitative, or like Studio Ghibli is trying to milk the tragedy for an audience reaction. It's a striking sequence that captures Miyazaki's strong visual style while also carrying a more grounded use of it compared to the dreams. Another great example of the movie's good visual eye comes from a sequence in which Jiro and one of his colleagues visit Germany. They're given a chance to ride in a German-made plane and observe its workings. The sequence, while not as overtly visually stunning as other parts of this movie, is still quite fascinating to watch, and one can't help but feel some of Jiro's love for the aerial technology rubbing off on us as we join him in exploring the German aircraft.

As I said above, the movie's biggest stumbling block is in the storytelling. Which I feel kind of bad to have to say since it's a good concept, and from a direction standpoint, Miyazaki does a good job of letting us feel Jiro's passion. But in terms of the writing, the movie feels rather disjointed. We get a lot of individual sequences and plotlines that are good, but never come together into a finished movie. One of the biggest examples of this is with regards to a character introduced midway into the movie – German visitor Castorp (who, as fun facts go, is voiced in the English dub by acclaimed director Werner Herzog.) I wanted to like Castorp, as he starts off as a friendly enough character, but the fact is that he never really amounts to much in the overall film. He mainly just serves as one of the film's many fringe reminders that World War II is on the horizon. He talks it over a bit with Jiro, and otherwise is just a friendly face until he disappears one day with the Japanese authorities hot on his heels.

While the randomness kind of maintains a creepy element, he still doesn't quite feel suitably Herzog. Points for the casting in any case.

With that, I suppose now's probably the best time to take on one of the big elephants in the room with regards to this movie before I get back to the rest of the review. Yes, this is a movie from Japan discussing the country's involvement in World War II. For those who don't see why this is an elephant in the room – the fact is, Japan did a lot of VERY questionable/terrible things during the war, most notably during their occupations of China and Manchuria. Their actions there have been something of a controversial point in discussing the war, and are to this day still rather taboo to discuss- to the point where some deny anything happened at all. When this movie was announced, the question immediately rose over how much the film would address that point. Personally, I had a feeling they weren't going to do much with it – I don't judge the film for that on its own, per se – it's a cultural sore spot, and I'm coming from a different perspective on the matter. The problem is, the film does attempt to address it, but doesn't really go that far into it. We do see some small conflict from Jiro as to how to reconcile his love of planes with the idea of making things that will be used to kill people – and this is an idea that can make for some great character growth. The problem is, it's ultimately resolved in a single conversation with Caproni that boils the concept down to “yes, they'll be misused, but they can still be beautiful on their own.” Which, on its own, isn't a bad argument to make, but the film never really pursues it for much in the long run. It's the kind of case that feels like it should merit a bit more questioning from Jiro in order for him to eventually come to peace with the matter. In the end, the scene winds up feeling less like an attempt to reconcile the issue, and more paying lip service to it. Combined with the film's epilogue, which also feels like a sort of clumsy means of addressing the darker side of these planes (And history), there's a part of me that would have almost preferred they avoid the issue entirely rather than tip-toe around it like this.

"That...actually doesn't make much sense to me...but you ARE flamboyant and Italian, so I suppose it works!"

Probably the one other plot thread that is hurt the most by this lack of cohesion is Jiro's relationship with Naoko Satomi, an ill woman whom he meets at a resort. Their relationship starts well, and even manages to do a good job building up much of it through little sequences and montage conveying more through the visuals rather than dialogue. Unfortunately, after Jiro returns to his work, the relationship storyline suffers – between her illness and Jiro being targeted by the authorities for his ties with Castrop, the movie wants to build up a case of two people in love who continue to stay true to each other over various odds, but all too often, it feels like the relationship is just remembered or forgotten at the script's convenience. The biggest disappointment of this coming in the fact that, while a nice enough character, Naoko is rather lacking in the way of personality or agency. There's other directors I would probably be more apt to let this go from, but given Miyazaki is a director who is often praised for his well-written female characters, this was a rather disappointing decision from him.

It's a little like a separate movie got cut into the middle of this one. I'm sure the full film would have been good, but the cut in segments just don't work.

In terms of acting, I will confess I haven't gotten the chance to check out the original Japanese language track (though I must admit I am interested – especially seeing as Jiro is voiced by Hideaki Anno, known by most as the creator of Neon Genesis Evangelion.) The members of the dub cast are, in general, fairly well chosen. Despite his big dreams, Jiro is something of a restrained personality in the movie, and Joseph Gordon-Levitt makes a good fit for the role. Meanwhile, as his guide in pursuing his dreams, Stanley Tucci gives a lot of warmth to Caproni for what scenes he has to work with. The rest of the cast all carry themselves well on this one. It's not one of the greatest dubs I have ever heard, but it's still quite good for the film in question.

Finally, as one more note of praise for the movie, it's worth again pointing out the score by Ghibli veteran Joe Hisaishi. As a man who has, to this point, scored many of Studio Ghibli's greatest, he continues to prove why he's one of their regulars on this movie. His music paired with some of Miyazaki's strong visuals are reason enough to give this movie a watch, even with its problematic script.

I will admit, I do feel kind of bad about some of this review. Not bad enough to rescind my statements, but enough to admit it kind of hurt to admit this movie disappointed me as much as it did. I went into this really wanting to like it and was somewhat let down.
It's not actually a bad movie. I'll continue to state that. In fact, in general it's still one of the better movies I've seen this year, and I'm glad I did get to see this in theaters. At the same time, however, I will stand by my hope that this won't be the last we hear of Miyazaki as a director. While this wasn't his strongest by any means, it certainly also showed me he's still got it in him to knock our socks off at least one more time.

I'll be keeping my fingers crossed for ya, Hayao. If you do decide to stick with this, however, let me just say
1) this still doesn't erase all the top notch work you've done to this point
2) to that end, thanks for all the great work. Though I will continue to hope you step into the ring one more time.

Till next time, folks!

"...welp..."

Escape From Tomorrow - The Very Best Vacations Involve a Complete Descent into Madness

Escape From Tomorrow is a tough film to sell. This is in no small part thanks to the fact that what the movie is most known for isn't the story, but rather its production. The decision of director Randy Moore to film the entire movie guerrilla-style on the premises of Disneyland and Disney World is an ambitious gamble, and certainly one of the more interesting aspects of the overall product, but it's also one that risks overshadowing the movie's other merits.

The entire guerrilla approach-which Disney shrewdly decided to let slide rather than pursue legal action and therefore invite the attention of the press- is something of a necessity given the nature of its story. The idea of exploring a darker side of the so-called 'happiest place on Earth' is something that's been joked about so often it's actually kind of surprising to think no one had tried to make this movie sooner. Of course, the filming in the park does actually help aid the movie in a way that just making a mock-up of Disney with the arbitrary legal substitution wouldn't quite cut, but we'll get to that in a bit.

Welp...they bought up Marvel and Star Wars, it was only a matter of time before Disney would set their sights on The X-Files.

This surreal horror experiment concerns protagonist Jim White (Roy Abramsohn,) a father whose taken his family on a vacation to Disney World. During the vacation, he receives a phone call from work, informing him of his subsequent termination: a decision he keeps from his family. The trip into the park starts innocently and then a bit creepy when Jim's eye catches two young French girls (Danielle Safady and Annet Mahendru.) Then things start to change on arrival at the park. In classic 'horrors of Disney' style, Jim begins to hallucinate wildly on - what else? - It's a Small World. What follows is a nightmarish descent into a dark parallel of the park: prostitution, an outbreak, sinister visions, and a secret conspiracy operating behind the scenes are all parts of the myriad ways in which Jim's vacation goes to complete and utter Hell.

The park ads tend to leave out the part about nightmare face transformations...I guess they just figure it's part and parcel and doesn't need to be brought up.

Like I said before, the decision to film at the actual Disney parks themselves, while a hook that kind of overshadows the movie, is also useful as more than just a gimmick. By using an actual theme park, and having locations that many people can place as point of reference to their own trips to Disney, it makes the nightmarish diversions a bit more effective, as it puts the disturbing elements into enough of a -for lack of a better term- shared reality that everyone can recognize, and thus be disturbed by. Of course, they naturally couldn't get away with EVERYTHING in these parks, which does lead to some occasional moments where the film has to resort to some jarring greenscreening. It's an effect you learn to take in stride given the nature of the production, but can still be distracting at certain points.

Of course, the unsettling vibe doesn't entirely hinge upon the location, though that does enhance it. Randy Moore and cinematographer Lucas Lee Graham have produced a film that, in its overall feel, has a very dark and unnerving look to it. The black and white style, combined with some of the nature of the hallucinations (such as in the above-mentioned It's a Small World sequence) give everything a sort of feel of a waking nightmare. It's the kind of effect similar to what David Lynch did with Eraserhead, albeit here with a bit more polish by virtue of the technology available. Granted, I do think that reduces some of the more disturbing nature of EFT by comparison, but that's more a consequence of the style of filmmaking.

The biggest stumbling block this movie could be said to suffer from is with regards to its story. The overall concept is certainly one with potential, but the actual execution is VERY hit and miss. While the film's hallucinatory nature does a great job for the film visually, it also causes the film's writing to feel disjointed at times. Individual concepts it introduces into the film are all pretty memorable, but they never really feel like they ever come together into much, even during what's supposed to be the big surprise reveal inside Epcot center. While it provides an interesting twist to the movie, it's a twist that never really goes much of anywhere. This could, admittedly, be because the entire film has been read by a lot of people (and to be honest, I can agree with this) as being all a product of Jim slowly losing his mind. As such, I could somewhat see the logic in the idea that none of these visions really add up. They're all products of that madness, and thus born not out of any sort of cohesive logic but rather a paranoid series of delusions. Of course, the film plays that potential completely straight-faced, pulling a move akin to Videodrome in that we're never really privy to what's real and what's imagined. Unfortunately, unlike Videodrome, the hallucinations seem somewhat scattered in their nature. We have some recurring elements, such as Jim's taboo attraction to the teen French girls, as well as the idea of the park hosting a prostitution ring (oh, to have been in the Disney offices when they heard about THAT part.) The overall film, however, is still rather scattershot in its concepts and execution.

At first I had reservations about including this...but honestly, given how odd this turn is, I'd have to REALLY work to turn it into a spoiler.

The cast, for being relative unknowns, all play their parts fairly well. Abramsohn in particular carries the film well as its potentially unreliable narrator. While we do feel bad for him at points, he also doesn't mind letting us judge some of his actions - especially since, to be perfectly honest, there are many points in this film where Jim IS an absolute ass. The rest of the cast are largely capable, but to be perfectly honest, it's Abramsohn that carries this. It's his experiences, and his possible madness that make up this movie, and as such, everyone else is just elements working around him. They do well for their parts, but are never given the chance to really go above and beyond by comparison.

Overall, this is the kind of movie that feels like it works more as a proof of concept than it does as a standalone movie. It's certainly not a perfect movie by any means, but it has enough strengths to make up for it. Even once you get past the 'gimmick' factor of its production history, the fact is, you're left with a film that shows director Moore has a lot of potential in terms of where he can go from here as a filmmaker. His 'through a glass darkly' vision of the beloved Disney parks is a memorable enough part of the film that, even if its somewhat disjointed narrative doesn't always click, you're likely to at least remember some of its visual style.

It's the kind of movie that I can't promise you'll enjoy, but if you're curious enough, it's at least worth giving a watch to see what you think of it.

...well, this was an odd one to come back to the reviews on (...like that's ever stopped me before.)

I'll have something a bit more recent up in the next day or so.

Till then!

In the meantime, we here at The Third Row wish to remind you to properly dispose of all garbage in the appropriately marked receptacles.
Thank you.