pirate1_power Reviews

Santa Claus Conquers the Martians (1964)

What to explore: How Santa continues to conquer the Martians (collectively)

[8/10 · 26 November 2005]

It is 1964, and New York-based producer Paul L. Jacobson, armed with a $200,000 budget and a cast assembled from the ranks of the Broadway stage, as well as a crew comprised of behind-the-scenes principals from the ranks of New York area television, has set out to create a big, large scale science fiction adventure starring ..... Santa Claus? There are many individuals who have, over the 30 or so years since Santa Claus Conquers the Martians was first released, tried to explore the many reasons why this particular story, so remarkably third-rate in terms of sets, scripting and even special effects, and yet, in one sense prophetic, given that the story foretells at one point the short attention span of the succeeding generation of children to come. Still, the adventure Santa shares with the Foster children, Billy and Betty, as they spend their time in the house dwelt in by Kimar, Momar and their kids, Bomar and Girmar, has a degree of suspense and dignity.

In the scenes taking place at the region called Chochem's Chair, the wise old Martian sage rants that the children of Mars are rising up in rebellion, for the simple reason that they have not yet discovered the meaning of fun. Only Santa Claus, Chochem proclaims, can provide such a meaning. For the remainder of the film, we follow Kimar and his crew, including hilarious Dropo, the laziest Martian of them all; and Voldar, the jealous, petulant angry person who sees Santa's presence as a potential threat to the Martian future.

There are many who have discussed young Pia Zadora and her appearance in this film --- and, frankly, these descriptions run the gamut from too cute to too campy and back again. Yet such descriptions are noted here because recently Penguin Books USA has published an unprecedented novelization of Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, written by film historian Lou Harry. In his version, in which he uses approximately 90 per cent of the actual dialogue taken verbatim from the film itself, the story is presented from the perspective of a now grown-up Girmar, who has succeeded her father as ruler of Mars. Harry's Girmar narrates the tale in a sort of Valley Girl/Queen of Outer Space sort of dialect; indeed, her account of the film's concluding toyshop battle, wherein she and her brother, along with the Fosters, pummel Voldar with toy after toy, ultimately leaving him in tears, will send your funny bone into the stratosphere --- somewhat.

The final verdict has still not yet been fully written regarding Santa Claus Conquers the Martians --- there will be many more historians who will argue its reasons for being --- but one thing is certain: however many times one may call it a flop, there will be others who will wonder what producer Jacobson was "on," if you will, when he conceived the project. What will matter in the end is the simple question: Did you enjoy the movie already? If you did, wonderful; if not, well, who knows?

Star! (1968)

Richard explores the Star!

[8/10 · 30 September 2005]

The story of the life and times of Broadway veteran Gertrude Lawrence was a unique odyssey in the realms of legitimate theater, and, by all accounts, it seems a unique bit of subject matter to devote an entire movie musical to telling her story. Yet director Robert Wise did exactly that when, re-teamed with producer Saul Chaplin and the one and only Julie Andrews in the lead role, the folks at Fox asked them to make the "totally magical musical entertainment called Star! Star! covers the period from Gertrude's childhood to her triumphant show-stopping run in "Lady in the Dark." Interspersed with the various episodes are stretches of newsreel footage (some of it in black-and-white) narrated by Peter Church. The idea, you see, is that Gertrude and producer Jerry Paul are screening one of Paul's "Screen Profiles" at 20th Century-Fox Studios; and Paul needs Gertrude's approval to release the footage that has been prepared, along with the Star! title song.

The most telling aspect of Star! lies in the problem that not many audiences in 1968 were aware as to who this Gertrude Lawrence was. Sure, she wowed them on stage night after night on Broadway and in London, but most critics of the film found themselves asking why her story should be told as a movie. A further problem that plagued Star! was the fact that the genre of the movie musical was dying a slow death; the big-budget, movie musical extravaganzas were now being considered by the newer, younger studio executives as little more than "loss leaders," and Fox, in the midst of a re-emergence after the horror that was the Burton-Taylor Cleopatra, was just bouncing back. That Star! proved to be an out-and-out failure is not at issue; the REAL question is: Was Gertrude Lawrence a popular actress; and, if so, what was the justification in terms of bringing her story to the big screen? Even after having seen Star! in its widescreen version, I have to say that it is probably one of the underrated musical landmarks of its day. The bottom line is simply that here was a film made at the wrong moment, involving the wrong subject matter, and yet possessing the right kind of magic essential to a movie musical of its period. In light of the recent death of Donald Brooks, the film's costume designer, one would go so far as to suggest looking deeper into how he went about crafting his designs for Star! The distinctive style and force of Brooks' costumes represent a wonder and fabric we will likely never see again..... and all because the film for which these costumes were crafted did not prove successful.

In the end, it is not the songs, or the costumes, or the story, that allow us to re-examine Robert Wise's Star! Rather, it is the gist of the film's plot overall: that here was a woman who took risks to rise to the top of the heap as an actress and performer, continuing a tradition as eternal and unblinking as the eye of a hand-held motion picture camera.

Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (1971)

Exploring the Chocolate Factory

[7/10 · 7 July 2005]

With the release of Tim Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory looming upon us, I think it's time we explored the original one more time.

One commentator whose review of this film was totally hostile got a lot of the elements of the production's backstory utterly incorrect. Thank goodness that Mel Stuart, the film's director, set everyone straight with his recently published book, "Pure Imagination: The Making of 'Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory'." According to Mel, his then 12-year-old daughter, who had read the Roald Dahl book, was the person who first suggested the idea for the film, and that her father take the idea to his then boss, producer/presenter David L. Wolper. After Mel did exactly that, Wolper in turn took the idea to executives at the Quaker Oats Company.

"Quaker Oats? That's not a studio, that's a food company," Mel told Dave. But that, oddly, was exactly why Quaker wanted to get into the movies to begin with: to promote a candy bar to be made by its then confectionery division. The irony: even when the Wonka movie was completed, Quaker never got around to manufacturing its proposed candy bar, let alone promoting it.

Yes, the film was released in its original theatrical run by Pararmount, but the initial deal called for that studio to hold onto the U.S. distribution rights for seven years, at the end of which time said rights would revert back to Wolper Pictures, Limited and the Quaker Oats Company, who, after all, were the joint copyright holders of the film. Paramount was anxious to relieve itself of that 7-year deal anyway, and was therefore not willing to renew the terms of the deal. In 1977, David L. Wolper sold his namesake Organization to Warner Bros., at which point he then joined WB's Board of Directors, ultimately selling to Warners his own and Quaker Oats' 50% shares in the Wonka movie.

The Stuart book explores the terms of the deal in greater detail than can be shared here; suffice to say, the incident shows us just how unwilling we sometimes are to get all the behind-the-scenes facts straight. It seems to me, friends, that Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory in its 1971 version was a film reeking of sweetness and magic, yet created specifically as an infomercial for a candy bar that in the end was neither manufactured, marketed or distributed. Today, any movie with a candy bar as its centerpiece would not be burdened with such problems; movie dealmaking today is more covering every base than skipping certain loopholes.

Besides, I think the Burton remake represents a perfect opportunity to celebrate and re-examine the Wonka legacy. Oompaloompa.com, anyone?

Darby O'Gill and the Little People (1959)

Remembering King Brian

[10/10 · 12 February 2005]

There are a good many reasons why Disney's Darby O'Gill and the Little People remains number one on my list of all-time favorite Disney films. It's the first of director Robert Stevenson's great Disney fantasies (the others being: the two Flubber movies; Mary Poppins; the first Love Bug film; Blackbeard's Ghost; The Gnome-Mobile; and Stevenson's last film at Disney, The Shaggy D.A.); it's the first film to spotlight a very young Sean Connery; and also, if you read between the lines, it's a film with a lot of unexpected history.

The behind-the-scenes aspect of Darby O'Gill has always been more interesting to me than the plot itself. Walt cast veteran character actor Albert Sharpe in the title role after seeing him, Sharpe, on Broadway in the original production of Finian's Rainbow. Many of the supporting actors were veterans of Dublin's famous Abbey Theatre --- most notably, Jimmy O'Dea. With his harsh genuine Gaelic Irish brogue, it's a piece of cake to figure out why he landed the role that ended up bringing more magic in my young life than I would ever know.

What can I tell you? King Brian Connors of the Knocknasheegan Leprechauns had me believing in all Leprechauns before I was even grown up. I was, at the time, only 11 years old when I first saw the film. Curiously, this was the second and last of the only two movies Jimmy O'Dea would ever make during the era of sound on film, the first being The Rising of the Moon, a trilogy of Irish-themed short stories narrated by Tyrone Power and featuring the Abbey Players, as directed (and financed!) by none other than John Ford --- himself an Irishman, having been born under the name Sean Aloysius O'Feeney. O'Dea's film career up to that time had consisted largely of various roles in silent films made in Ireland, that nation's own cinematic history not yet having reached its proper potential.

But of course, all I needed at that time was a simple look at King Brian, and there'd be that pure Disney magic, alive and whole and fearless --- as it should be! When I got home from that first time I'd seen the movie (and again, this was when I was 11 years old), Leprechauns were all I'd talk about. I even thought that one day, Disney might make the film again, as a disco musical (this was, remember, the 1970's). In retrospect, it's enough that they didn't.

Still, if you want laughs, whimsy, a little bit of drinkin', fightin', romance and the unexpected thrill of a tall tale, you can't do better than Darby O'Gill and the Little People. If you get the DVD, pay particular attention to "I Captured the King of the Leprechauns," Walt's hour-long look at his own personal encounter with both King Brian and Darby. The show is another significant link to history: it was the only work both Sharpe and O'Dea, reprising their respective roles, would ever do for television; guest star Pat O'Brien even sings a Lawrence Edward Watkin/Oliver Wallace song that was (presumably) cut from the feature at the last minute.

Hey, King Brian: I haven't forgotten you at all, old friend. Every time I attend the annual Clan MacDuff Scottish Games at Old Westbury Gardens, on Long Island, New York, which is held every fourth Saturday in August of each year, the memory of you and your fellow Leprechauns keeps coming back to me. Just like it does every St. Patrick's Day. Let's face it: when you spend a lot of your time being surrounded by bagpipes, chances are Darby O'Gill might have had something to do with it.

That said, Bennachtai na Faile Padraig! (That's Irish Gaelic for Happy St. Patrick's Day!)

The Return of the King (1980 TV Movie)

The Ascent of the Animated King

[7/10 · 4 February 2005]

It was the first time that Rankin/Bass had dared to take on a two-hour special. But, having plunged into Tolkien's Middle-earth once before, it was a challenge they could pull off with the expertise R/B fans had always expected of them. Hence, The Return of the King: A Story of the Hobbits, to give the film its full title.

One wonders, I'm sure, what inspired Romeo Muller to change Bilbo's age from "eleventy-one," as Tolkien wrote the number, to one hundred and twenty-nine. Still, it was a thrill having most of "The Hobbit"'s vocal contributors back: Orson Bean, John Huston, Theodore, Paul Frees, Don Messick, Glenn Yarbrough --- and adding Casey Kasem, Theodore Bikel and Sonny Melendrez to the mix, too --- to take us on the journey that Ralph Bakshi should have finished, but didn't.

Many are the tales told about how Bakshi was only given enough financing to see us through most of The Fellowship of the Ring and approximately the first half of The Two Towers. When it became apparent, though, that the second Bakshi Ring movie would never come to pass, that made it possible for the folks at Rankin/Bass to seize a golden opportunity. And this they did, as we know by now, with a vengeance. Playing the story straight, as they did with "The Hobbit," the R/B team set out to take all the best elements from Return of the King and begin the film in flashback, with Bilbo's 129th birthday party, as he, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Gandalf and Elrond look back at the good times and excellent adventures that culminated in the end of the Third Age of Middle-earth ..... and with it, in Gandalf's words, "the beginning of the New Age of Man."

Again, as I did with Peter Jackson's version, I will dispense with a plot synopsis, assuming that you are already familiar with the legend without having to hear me tell it to you. Among the several strange moments that one does not notice about Rankin/Bass' Return of the King occurs during the sequence in which Gollum battles Frodo for control of the One Ring of Power. In a move considered unprecedented at the time of its original showing, Rankin/Bass decided to depict this climactic showdown graphically. The closeup of Frodo's just bitten hand shaking as though it were an earthquake monitor was, for its time, the most horrifying scene R/B's animators had ever attempted. To this day, one shudders in surprise that this scene was even cleared by ABC's censors!

In place of Tolkien's original songs, Maury Laws and Jules Bass save the day again (assisted partially by Bernard Hoffer, who would later write the score cues and theme songs for R/B's classic 80s series, Thundercats, Silverhawks and The Comic Strip). "It's So Easy Not to Try," "Small Things," "Retreat!", "Where There's a Whip, There's a Way" and "The Ballad of Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom" are all singable, they help the story along (indeed, in the case of "Where There's a Whip, There's a Way," it has the proverbial great beat you can dance to --- or, one presumes, torture your enemies with!) .... and they're songs you can believe in!

But no one sequence in the film is as deeply powerful visually as Aragorn's Coronation Procession, set to the film's title song. Here's something you didn't know: For one short panning scene, the animators went to Jerusalem, where they shot live-action footage of people cheering. The footage was then studied and brilliantly rotoscoped, so that it actually looks like there are citizens of Minas Tirith cheering on the coming of their King!

Once again, we see that the Rankin/Bass team were second to none in their constant efforts to share with their audiences adventures unlike anything they had previously experienced. And because they were the only production entity that had pioneered the "dramatic animated television special," they could take this type of story and put it into the context that was its rightful due.

This, then, was the power behind The Return of the King --- a simple, straightforward saga that would not bow to the attitudes of so-called sensationalism, but would nevertheless be the only Tolkien adventure that one could truly believe in.

And then, as the world knows by now, came a man named Peter Jackson. But that, again as they say, is another story.........

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)

Writing in character again --- on Prisoner of Azkaban

[9/10 · 15 January 2005]

Well, once more we have another journey into the struggle for the future of Hogwarts. This time, the quest involves the saga of Sirius Black. Who is he? Why is he on the prowl for young Harry? And what, ultimately, is the truth behind the murder of James and Lilly Potter, Harry's parents? The tale opens with yet another killer title sequence, this time bringing the familiar Warner Bros. shield to light in spurts before focusing on Harry's 'homework assignment,' if you will --- the Lumos Maxima spell. After this, we come to the first segment of the story proper. Now aged 13, Harry is angrier, and more unsure of his destiny than in his previous adventures at Hogwarts. His rage against one of the Dursleys' relatives intensifies when he finally decides it's not worth it to remain there ("Anywhere's better than here," he complains to Uncle Vernon).

A few moments later --- the Night Bus. What a ride, especially with British veteran comic Lenny Henry contributing the voice of the manic Shrunken Head! The film reaches its most beautiful moment, however, as Hagrid --- newly installed as Professor in Charge of the Care of Magical Creatures --- introduces his class, and us, to Buckbeak the Hippogriff. The haunting flight of Buckbeak, with Harry on his back, is complimented by a new theme from John Williams; and yes, Harry does the 'king-of-the-world' thing a la Leonardo DiCaprio (but that, of course, we can forgive).

Director Alfonso Cuaron, who makes here a return to making films from family stories, provides us with as unexpected an ability to play mind games with the Potter legend's staunchest supporters (us, the audience) than even Chris Columbus did, when we discover at last what is really going on. That Sirius Black is Harry Potter's godfather, and would willingly sacrifice himself for Harry's honor, brings more sorrow than joy to our hero's emotional psyche, setting the stage for the major payoff sequence.

How horrifying it is to learn that the rat you have loved and cared for for all of 12 years is no less than the traitor who brought Voldemort the means to slay James and Lilly! One can imagine what's going through Ron Weasley's mind as he, Harry, and Hermoine witness these bitter revelations.

And finally, we have the theme of expressing freedom, as Harry sees himself, changed into a glowing stag, giving the evil Dementors what for, thus freeing both Sirius and Buckbeak --- two innocents who, like Hagrid himself, have been falsely accused and condemned. Alas, Sirius' destiny, as we know all too well, is to be a short-lived one.

So, what did you love about the movie? I hear you asking. Well, aside from the usual smokin' performances from our regulars (and a jolly toast to Michael Gambon who, one hopes, will be given a bigger, cooler beard once Order of the Phoenix goes into principal photography), there is also the delightful spectre of darkness surrounding the story, and a ferocious bid for battling against revenge. And, for the first time, the inclusion of the Marauders' Map is not only emphasized, it also serves as the inspiration --- and literal setting --- for the movie's end-credit sequence.

All in all, Prisoner of Azkaban brings the darker Potter power to light in ways one would not dare expect out of screenwriter Steve Kloves. Alas, they're saying that Steve will be leaving the production team after having completed the Goblet of Fire script; if another writer does Order of the Phoenix proper justice, they'll be hard-pressed to take on the search for one. That being the case, I sincerely hope our legions of fans will enjoy our film. Who knows? I may have to do this again three years from now when Half-Blood Prince gets the movie treatment! (Heh-heh!) Faithfully, Albus Dumbledore

The Polar Express (2004)

A letter to those without imagination

[12 November 2004]

The word is out: Tom Hanks and Robert Zemeckis' historic third collaboration, The Polar Express, is making a mark in terms of the incredible computer-generated technology called "performance capture," allowing star/co-executive producer Hanks to take on not just one, but an unprecedented six roles: The Boy, His Father, The Conductor, The Hobo, Scrooge and Santa. The technicians of Sony Pictures Imageworks allow you to experience the story the way Chris van Allsburg's original illustrations permitted you to. "Derails in zombie land," scoffs Newsday's film critic. "A failure as much of imagination as of technology," grumbles the New York Times' critic. People, ignore the mixed reviews. The money and the imagination are up there on that screen --- and more, they're there for one reason: for the first time, you're not just a part of the CGI experience, the experience literally happens to you!

There are several reasons why the popularity of the original book simply had to result in the making of the film, some of those reasons having real life on their side: since the book was first published nearly 20 years ago, several real-life performers have literally staged their own adaptations of The Polar Express, using some of van Allsburg's characters as key elements. The real test, I think, will be in comparing the staged versions, of which, I think, there were some 60 across the country and counting, with the film.

The story follows a young boy who is gradually losing his faith in Santa --- until a mysterious train appears at his front door, its mission being to take him and various other children with similar doubts to the North Pole, where, in celebration of his first Christmas flight of the year, Santa will present the first gift of the season to one person. Who will that person be? And can that person prove himself brave, truthful and unselfish enough to go the distance and make it to the end of the journey in one piece? That is the mystery surrounding this remarkable film, and I would be surprised if the incredible technology combined with the spellbinding story did not earn this movie the Best Animated Feature Oscar, as well as the Oscar for Visual Effects.

The film is dedicated, by the way, to the memory of co-star Michael Jeter, who died shortly after completing his scenes in this film. His contributions will obviously be a lasting legacy.

In conclusion, then, the magic of this awesome adventure is right up there with all the live-action Christmas classic features of the last 30 years. Jack Matthews of the New York Daily News is right: "If you take one train this holiday season, this is the one." To which I, being a train lover in one or more senses, must add:

"Get me on this train!"

The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003)

Richard Explains the King

[29 October 2004]

It was inevitable, I guess, that for this, my 40th missive here in this Internet Movie Database, I should turn to Peter Jackson's now-immortal Lord of the Rings Trilogy --- specifically, its 11-time Oscar-winning finale, The Return of the King.

You all know the plot by now without my having to make a proper assessment of it, much less a legitimate synopsis. Still, you have to realize that there is much tragedy and pathos mingled with the overall story, in which Frodo and Sam, led by the ultra-obsessive Gollum, take the final steps on their journey to the fires of Mount Doom, where they must destroy the One Ring of Power in the only means possible: casting it back into the evil fires from whence it was forged. To accomplish the mission requires Frodo to make the ultimate conscious choice; alas, that he cannot do so, for at the very moment he makes his decision, we the viewer follow this one innocent Hobbit into the echo of madness and dementia --- an echo that ultimately results in the biting by Gollum of the Ring-finger, a sequence depicted more graphically here than Rankin/Bass did in its 1980 animated version (itself at the time the most graphic sequence in any of R/B's two-dimensional animated works).

The most spectacular element of Return of the King is Aragorn's Coronation, in which director Peter Jackson allows to drink in the full power of Aragorn's declaration that "by the labour and valour of many have I come into my inheritance." He has asked Gandalf/Mithrandir and Frodo to represent those many, Frodo by bearing the Crown of the Kings; Gandalf by setting that Crown on Aragorn's head. In this one moment, then, you begin to understand that the Trilogy is about to end .... and that nothing can be done to change or even deny that.

As I have written elsewhere, this film has made its very special share of history in that, for the first time ever, a sci-fi/fantasy movie has landed that most powerful of all awards: The Academy Award of Merit for the Best Motion Picture of the Year. Never again will the science-fiction/fantasy community be denied proper honors by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, because the legions of fans of this once uncool genre will no longer permit such a denial. I for one doubt that such a denial will be permitted in my, or in anyone else's, lifetime. And now, the inevitability persists that "The Hobbit," the Trilogy's remarkable and enchanting Prelude, should itself be made into a film --- a film that, as many have wished, needs the chance to be put together with the same love and devotion given to these three films.... preferably, by the same production team whose combined talents brought this epic saga to life.

It is yet to be determined if, ultimately, Peter Jackson and the Wingnut Pictures crew can legitimately do King Kong proper justice. We laughed, I think, in 1976 when Dino De Laurentiis, director John Guillermin, and screenwriter Lorenzo Semple, Jr. made their maniacal bid to thrust the great Kong into a 1970s Multiverse. At least the Jessica Lange we know now is far more respected as an actress than she was in those days. The new Kong, a la Jackson, will have to not only transcend the original, it must make us forget Dino's version. (Of course, knowing Dino, it would not surprise me at all were he to be enraged by these remarks.)

In closing, then, The Return of the King will stand the test of time because it was planned, executed, and finally made by people who took a leap of faith. Already they're saying that Hollywood will never again be inhabited by such people. Blame the corporate fools who now control the studios. Only a new generation of young filmmakers will be able to make that leap of faith now. And should they decide to follow in Peter Jackson's footsteps, so much the better. 'Nuff said.

Scorch (1992)

The (real) truth about Scorch

[11 September 2004]

It's only now, after recently re-discovering the comedy stylings of puppet master Ronn Lucas, that I have begun re-embracing Ronn's most popular regular character, Scorch the Teenage Dragon. Scorch's origins, per Ronn's website are as follows:

Scorch was developed by Ronn in 1983, while he was driving to a comedy gig in San Francisco. At the time, Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus was playing the Cow Palace, and had as its main attraction something called "The Living Unicorn." This fascinated Ronn; and he soon thought: what if mythological beings from the past could interact with the mortals of today's world? In that light, the character of Scorch the Teenage Dragon was born. Eventually, Scorch and Ronn became top draws in comedy clubs across the U.S. --- until the late 1980's when Ronn was approached by an executive with Britain's Thames Television who soon suggested the idea for a weekly variety show, to be hosted by Ronn, with Scorch as the main star.

"The Ronn Lucas Show Starring Scorch" ran for 5 seasons on Thames before the British Government bought out the licensing agreements for all of the nation's ITV networks. By 1990, this move effectively put Thames out of business, forcing Ronn and Scorch back to the States. In 1991, writer/producer Allan Katz, in partnership with executive producers Haim Saban and Shuki Levy, and production legend Edgar J. Scherick, did a development deal with Ronn and Scorch. They loved the dragon; but they considered the human to be a little on the so-so side. Wasting no time, they licensed the rights for Scorch to CBS, and the storyline for a series was soon put into the planning stages. The resulting sitcom, entitled simply "Scorch," aired on CBS from February 28th to March 13th, 1992, shortly after the 1992 Winter Olympics.

In the story, Scorch goes to bed on the night of September 19th, 1892, only to reawaken a century later. The night is dismal, but Scorch decides it's a perfect night for flying. Wrong. The dragon is soon struck by lightning while hovering over New Haven, Connecticut; his crash landing marks his introduction to the Stevens family. Brian, the family patriarch (portrayed by Jonathan Walker), is constantly on the move while seeking a job; his recent divorce has seriously impacted the life patterns of Brian's 13-year-old daughter Jessica (Rhea Silver-Smith). Taking pity on their dragon discovery, Brian and Jessica decide to keep Scorch. Next morning, Brian is interviewed by Jack Fletcher (Todd Susman), general manager at WWEN-TV. Seems they're looking for a guy to do the weather for their afternoon news thing, 'New Haven at Noon.' At first, Brian fails to land the job, but leave it to Scorch to save the day. Jack quickly assumes that Brian is in fact a ventriloquist, and that Scorch is his dummy --- and before long, the two are immediately hired to join 'New Haven at Noon' anchors Allison King (Brenda Strong) and Howard Gurman (John O'Hurley, pre-"Seinfeld").

For a 1300-year-old dragon, Scorch doesn't look a day over 12 (give or take an aeon). Alas, Ronn never got credit for his contribution to the show; and, per Variety's not-so-rave review, the plot too closely resembled that of NBC's already popular "ALF," which itself was about to be cancelled. After airing the last of the six episodes they'd originally ordered, CBS pulled the plug on the Scorch project. Wimps!

I would love to see the full six episodes on DVD, if at all possible: it occurs to me that Ronn and Scorch have the full potential to appeal to the kids (the sitcom's apparent target audience); unfortunately, the combination gimmick idea --- that of cashing in on the science fiction element combined with rehashing the basic elements of "The Mary Tyler Moore Show"'s WJM-TV newsroom sequences --- are somewhat unfavorable, at least in terms of both conception and execution. Still, the largely unknown cast plays off Ronn and Scorch with hilarious imagination; more, Scorch himself provides each of the show's six episodes with a jolly, wisecracking languor --- the type you don't get on a sitcom in this day and age.

Today, Ronn Lucas lives and performs in Las Vegas, where he shares his life with Scorch; his first puppet star, Buffalo Billy; the Harley-loving punk puppet Chuck Roast --- and many, many fans. One such fan, London-based Debbie Quince, has created her own website which, like Ronn's own pages, preserves the memory of both of Scorch's TV series, American and British versions .... along with the latest info regarding this legendary dragon ..... a dragon whose story is only now beginning to re-surface. I just hope somebody takes a chance on Ronn Lucas and his puppet pals and decides to let them (and especially Scorch) return to the limelight soon.

Scorch, The Movie? Hey, it could happen!

The Hobbit (1977 TV Movie)

From One Who Really Understands

[26 May 2004]

Since I last posted a missive here in this Internet Movie Database concerning the Arthur Rankin, Jr./Jules Bass Production "The Hobbit," I've heard a few rude and rather ignorant comments about the film. As I read every horrible commentary, I began to realize that the comments being posted here were from pre-teens who have not really appreciated the finer points of what Rankin/Bass had to do over the two years it took them to bring The Hobbit to television.

Furthermore, since I happen to have been one of the first who actually saw the film when it was first broadcast in November 1977 on NBC, on the Sunday after Thanksgiving of that year, I figured you young whipper-snappers needed a lesson in learning how to appreciate a great adaptation of a good work. So, without going over the finer points of the story, let me make a few things perfectly clear about "The Hobbit":

First of all, Warner Bros. controls only the North American home video rights to certain Rankin/Bass properties. There is a wonderful book and website created by a dear friend of mine, Rick Goldschmidt. Both book and website share the same title: "The Enchanted World of Rankin/Bass." As for "The Hobbit" itself, Romeo Muller's teleplay presented a rare element of drama that a lot of you youngsters weren't able to figure out. That's what earned the film its 1977 Peabody Award; moreover, with "The Hobbit" and its 1980 follow-up "The Return of the King," Rankin/Bass not only introduced first-timers such as myself to the realm of Tolkien's Middle-earth, they pioneered an aspect of animation that no other production entity, including Disney, has ever seriously pursued since: the "dramatic animated television special."

I find it insulting that our various negative reviewers were not deeply moved by the closing moments of the film, as a badly-injured Thorin dies, with Bilbo and Gandalf powerless to stop it. Put yourselves in Romeo Muller's shoes, and then ask yourselves: Normally when you write a teleplay for the Rankin/Bass specials, there's usually a happy ending. This is not your typical Rankin/Bass special --- because here, you're dealing with a character who will die toward the end of the story. How do you, as a writer for an animated film, seriously convey the concept of death? This was not an easy task, not even for the man who wrote Rudolph and Frosty (and who, of course, gave happy endings to both television adaptations).

Now, I don't wanna get off on a rant here, but it's obvious that in an era where computer-generated imagery is rapidly becoming the norm in the animation industry, the kids will more than likely embrace characters that are more 3-D in terms of physical origin and less 2-D in terms of conception and execution. That "The Hobbit" was fiercely the latter, and apparently wore such burdens proudly on its shoulder, need not make a difference to any you young'uns reading this. Respecting the classic dramatic animation made by an old-school team like Rankin/Bass should be required curriculum in places like UCLA Film School and USC School of Cinema --- or even in schools located in the areas of those who were amongst our hostile Hobbit reviewers.

So I would advise them to visit the RankinBass.com website created by Rick Goldschmidt before they dare make any false judgements about what Arthur and Jules accomplished over their three-decade-long partnership. As Rick writes in the Foreword to his book, much that has been written over the years about Rankin/Bass is usually incorrect; Rick has done a masterful over the intervening 7 years doing what, I must admit, I myself had wanted to do after I'd seen "The Hobbit" --- namely, set the record straight about the Rankin/Bass story. To make a long point short, kids: you need to pay more attention to the work done on "The Hobbit" before you make any foolish assessments.

Oh boy! I've probably gone over my one-thousand word limit here, but I hope that what I've said will sink in. If it doesn't, the chances are that we loyal Rankin/Bass fans have lost an indifferent generation of youngsters for no good reason --- and frankly, I'm not exactly in the mood to have that happen! I trust that no one out there has a problem with that; because otherwise, there are one or two Orcs out there who just emerged a while ago from the depths of the Misty Mountains, and would like to have a word with you..........

7 Faces of Dr. Lao (1964)

The Wisdom of the Good Doctor

[18 May 2004]

"This is the Circus of Dr. Lao. We show you things that you don't know. Oh, we spare no pains and we spare no dough, but we're going to give you one helluva show!"

And the Good Doctor certainly did, thanks to the boundless imagination of producer-director George Pal, the cutting-edge script from Twilight Zone veteran Charles Beaumont, and of course MGM's remarkably talented makeup wizard, William Tuttle, whose efforts for this film earned him a Special Achievement Oscar, long before Best Makeup ever became the more permanent category it is these days.

The story, based on the book by Charles Finney, takes place at the cusp of the early 1910's. The setting is a small Arizona town named Abilone, whose inhabitants are facing a crisis that threatens the overall future of the town. The greater crisis, however, lies in the townsfolk's own humanity, and the balance of our story follows Dr. Lao and his Circus as they transform that crisis into a better understanding.

At the heart of the town's battle to survive is the personal conflict pitting newsman Ed Cunningham (John Ericson) against town shyster Clinton Stark (Arthur O'Connell). Only the intervention of the Circus will permit them to come to terms with who they really are, as opposed to who they should become. Ed has also fallen in love with Angela Benedict, the town librarian (Barbara Eden), and must confront his own passions for her while covering Dr. Lao's Circus.

But when Angie's young son Mike (Kevin Tate) befriends Dr. Lao, the film is strengthened with its greatest wisdom, one that is best explored when the entire family watches this film. "The whole world is a circus if you learn to look at it the right way," the seven-millennia-old Dr. Lao reminds his new friend. "Every time you pick up a handful of dust, and see not the dust, but a mystery, a miracle, right there in your hands --- every time you stop to think, 'I'm alive, and being alive is fantastic!' --- every time such a thing happens, Mike, only then are you part of the Circus of Dr. Lao."

Even today, I still shed a tear when I see this film, especially during the scene in which Lao summons Merlin the Magician to perform for the good folks of Abilone. Most of them have pretty much lost their ability to believe in magic. But not Mike Benedict. How can you not be moved to tears when you see Merlin tenderly embracing the lad, to thank him for having believed in the wonder of Magic?

The 7 Faces of Dr. Lao is one of the few quintessential examples of the astounding range of Tony Randall's acting versatility.... a versatility we will most certainly miss.... and most certainly remember.

As my Wizardly alter ego Blackwolf will tell you, that one scene --- Merlin's magic show --- holds a special place in the hearts of all Magic-users. With the news of Tony Randall's death having just gone out over the wires, I think fans of Dr. Lao will want another look at this remarkable little film that reminds us all how important it is to take a look at ourselves and our future. This is Dr. Lao's greatest feat, and to accomplish it, he tells the tale of "The Fall of the City" to the townsfolk of Abilone. Using stock footage from George Pal's Atlantis: The Lost Continent, interspersed with new footage featuring the Dr. Lao adult cast performing double duty as various Atlantean inhabitants, and the awesome strains of Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor booming in the background, "The Fall of the City" sequence is a masterpiece of drama, and an inspiring reminder that life is worth the battle so long as you learn something from it.

Overall, The 7 Faces of Dr. Lao is that rare curiosity of a movie, the kind that has something to say, and says it eloquently without preaching or sensationalizing its subject matter. We should all thank Tony Randall for having taken on this unique, one-of-a-kind filmmaking challenge. That, I think, is why we will miss him most of all.

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1978)

Oh yes, we still enjoy the show.....

[22 April 2004]

Take probably THE greatest rock-n'-roll album in recorded history, bring together the combined powers of producer Robert Stigwood, fresh off the awesome force that was the Brothers Gibb and the incredible magic of Saturday Night Fever, and its equally legendary follow-up, Grease --- and Dee Anthony, manager/guru of then-hot rocker Peter Frampton --- and then call critic-journalist Henry Edwards and have him put together a storyline involving Lennon and McCartney's classic legends, Billy Shears and the Henderson Brothers, as they take on a star-studded cast of evildoers out to take over the world. What do you have? Ladies and gentlemen: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band!

The film version, long dismissed and celebrated by many students of 'bad' filmmaking all over the world, remains a topic of discussion for many of us who just can't get enough of the Beatles. Still, one has to wonder: why is it that this one movie, which dares to take over 30 of the Fab Four's most legendary hits and bring them together for one of the 1970's biggest-ever musical programs to be captured on celluloid --- why is it that that even now, some call it one of the true guilty pleasures of popular entertainment?

Part of the answer lies in the fact that this movie was, pure and simply, a product of its time. Indeed, the balance of this film was shot at MGM Studios in Culver City, even as its back lot was being destroyed and/or being prepared to be sold. In fact, this was the last film to be shot at MGM under the management which controlled that studio at that time.

Even now, I still own the Official Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band Scrapbook, wherein Stigwood and Anthony attempt to justify in print their reasons for spending $12 million on bringing the Beatles' magic to the big screen. In describing Paul Nicholas' role as Dougie Shears, we read: "The success of the [film version of The Who's rock opera Tommy] proved to its makers that an audience can be entertained in a novel way by a movie without en] dialogue. Get rid of all the talking and let the songs and music carry the storyline along. With 'Sgt. Pepper,' we carried that concept forward by building a marvelous original story around a collection of songs by the Beatles. We were sure it would work, and we knew that Paul Nicholas was destined to be part of this plan." Ah! But Stigwood has obviously forgotten that he produced the movie version of Jesus Christ Superstar --- and there was an extremely limited amount of spoken dialogue in that one, too!

Nonetheless, you still can't help but get a groove going with all those marvelous tunes --- from Aerosmith's ultra-scream rendition of "Come Together" to Earth, Wind and Fire's cool-jazz style take on "Got to Get You Into My Life"; from Steve Martin's hilarious take on "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" to British comic Frankie Howerd (in the only movie he ever made, by the way) practically talk-crooning "Mean Mr. Mustard"; and of course, Sandy Farina's two haunting solos, "Strawberry Fields Forever" and "Here Comes the Sun". And of course, who would dare grumble at the sight of George Burns, with those two sweet little girls, tapping magically to the old coot's version of "Fixing a Hole"?

In my case, the closing sequence, with the title song arranged in 'Medium light disco' format, has always made me smile. Who can ever forget December 16th, 1977, when over 100 of the biggest names in pop and rock music, musical theater, and radio and television entertainment were assembled to sing en masse, "We're Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. We hope you have enjoyed the show...." It is this one sequence that reminds the viewer that this movie, when all is properly said and done, stands as a tribute to the always exciting power of music in all its forms, and that the power of all great music to bring happiness to everyone can and will always give us hope, no matter what! That said, we here in cyberspace owe a great deal to a New York-based up-and-coming actress/performer named Denise George. She was the first to put out her passion for this particular film on the world wide web --- and, although her Sgt. Pepper Movie Website no longer exists (at least, to my knowledge, anyway), it stands to reason that, were it not for Denise, those who continue to love and respect their favorite bad movies would not be able to post online their undying affection and admiration for some of cinema's greatest clunkers --- whose number just happens to include a little thing called Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.

And on that note (no pun intended), we're sorry, but it's time to go.

Foul Play (1978)

Taking the chance....

[1 April 2004]

Colin Higgins' Foul Play is probably one of the most underrated yet sensibly plotted comedy thrillers I've ever witnessed. Also, it's a neat exercise in intellectual theology.

Gloria Mundy (Goldie Hawn) is an ex-divorcee now employed as a San Francisco librarian. Her ordinary life, once so simple and uninvolving, is about to be thrust into a series of unexpected events that somehow interfere with her right to simply be a person. At the basic heart of the tale is a sinister plot to assassinate the Pope. On a rainy night at a movie theatre, Gloria unwittingly receives a microfilm containing information that will explain the plot. Fearing for her safety, she contacts the police. Enter Lieutenant Tony Carlson (Chevy Chase), who with his partner Coleman (Brian Dennehy) is assigned to her case.

Before long, Gloria and Tony not only fall in love but also find themselves taking on unexpected challenges. The first of these is sex maniac Stanley Tibbets (Dudley Moore, making his first major U.S. film appearance), who gives Gloria a night to remember when the librarian, busily worrying about her pursuers, discovers Stanley's obsession with sex toys as we hear and see his one-man orgy, set to the Bee Gees' now-immortal "Stayin' Alive."

From there, it's a fast-paced series of twists and turns, from a 4'1"-tall Bible salesman (Billy Barty) to Gloria's python-keeping superintendent, Mr. Hennesy (Burgess Meredith), who eventually joins in the battle to rescue Gloria's well-being. Ultimately, Gloria, Tony and Coleman eventually confront the mastermind behind the overall plot, a villainous lady named Delia Darrow, who soon explains why her actions have caused Gloria all her worries:

To Delia, the Pope represents "the vast wealth and corporate power of the world's churches." "10 years ago," she rants, "[my colleagues and I] attempted to launch a peaceful campaign that would bring about the taxation of these 'billion-dollar corporations.' But they serve the economic system, which in turn supports them. In the end, we were attacked, ridiculed, and finally imprisoned. But it was there, within the innersanctums of those hell holes where the mind can be bound and the spirit shackled that we came to realize that the single most effective way to bring about radical change is by utilizing the historically-proven path of violence."

Perhaps, but what is never explained in the film is why an innocent person like Gloria Mundy would even bother to understand such a struggle. Nonetheless, when one reads director-writer Colin Higgins' script symbolically, as apparently I have done, one seems to get the notion that the idea of "foul play" can take many forms and affect many people --- unless, at the last possible moment, action is taken NOW. Thus, the inclusion in the film of "Ready to Take a Chance Again," one of Barry Manilow's all-time best songs (thanks, no doubt, to the constant musical magic wielded by composer-conductor Charles Fox and lyricist Norman Gimbel --- one has to wonder if there's an entire homepage about the Fox-Gimbel musical library).

In the final scenes, intercutting between some of the most spectacular stunt work ever captured in a 70s film with highlights from a recording of Gilbert & Sullivan's The Mikado as performed by members of the New York City Opera, the plot to murder the Pope is somehow thwarted, Tony and Gloria consummate their love for each other .... and somehow, we not only laugh at ourselves, we learn something about the world's intellectualisms as well. Colin Higgins might not have intended all of this when he conceived "Foul Play," but nonetheless he has concocted a really cool detective story --- with a mystery worth solving.........

Charlotte's Web (1973)

Still caught in Charlotte's Web

[20 March 2004]

It's been three decades now since Hanna-Barbera were approached by Edgar Bronfman, Sr., who had acquired the film rights to E.B. White's first classic children's novel, Charlotte's Web. What most students of this film don't know is that E.B. White himself hated it. His ideas for a film version of Charlotte's Web, including an expanded version of the 'Deep in the Dark' lullaby, were largely ignored. I think one of the reasons for this has to do with the notion that author/essayists, and White was certainly among those, do not make for fantastic filmmakers.

Truth be told, E.B. White the person was rather stuffy for a man of hid time. For him, the movies were things to be snubbed at all costs; and it irked him, I suspect, that an animation studio was taking on his first big children's novel. That that studio turned out to be no less than Hanna-Barbera virtually gave him no end of fits. Like so many other authors of his time, White had had this obsession of working with Disney; for various reasons which space prevents from disclosing here, such was not to be the case.

Still, the film version of Charlotte's Web found its audience through its awesome starpower, notably in the voices of Debbie Reynolds as Charlotte, Henry Gibson as Wilbur, Paul Lynde as Templeton the rat, Agnes Moorehead as the Goose, along with neat secondary work from Dave Madden and Danny Bonaduce (both of them fresh from TV's "The Partridge Family"); veteran kid voice Pamelyn Ferdin; H-B stalwart voices Don Messick, Bob Holt and John Stephenson; and Rex Allen Sr. tying things up in a bow as our storyteller.

Add to this the brilliant animation screenplay (here referred to as simply "story") by Earl Hamner (creator of "The Waltons") and the haunting score from those darn Sherman Brothers --- and what you have is a haunting piece of animated drama that explores the friendship between a pig and a spider over the course of various seasons. The odyssey of life and death is presented in straightforward, graphic detail; no attempt is made to sugarcoat the concept of death. Of all Hanna-Barbera's theatrical features, only this one has stood the test of time in part because it pulls no punches in its depictions of the circle of life as seen from the perspective of the critters of Homer Zuckerman's farmhouse.

Besides, the Shermans never came up with a better marching tune than "Zuckerman's Famous Pig"; I hope someone arranges the tune for a techno-pop dance mix version. Still, this film has lasted in 30 years because it's a tale that recounts the story of life --- and does not compromise. Few animated features in the 1970s could boast of such a feat and have so many audiences throughout the world embrace it so wonderfully. 'Nuff said.

Santa Claus (1959)

Santa vs. Pitch: The Case of the Magical Movie from Mexico?

[4 December 2003]

How to explain the unusual 1959 feature from Mexico, wherein the Merriest Man on the Planet teams up with Merlin the Magician to defend the magic of Christmas against Ol' Sparky, a/k/a the Devil --- or, to be more accurate, his agent Pitch?

Well, for some reason, this film has its share of defenders. Recently, the website www.kgordonmurray.com was developed just for them, paying tribute as it does to the Miami-based entrepreneur who somehow acquired the U.S. rights to this strangely bizarre Santa Claus film from its Mexican-based producers. One would surmise that the all-Mexican cast and crew wanted to stress all the tenets associated with Mexico's perceptions of good versus evil; God (personified here by Santa) versus Satan (or, as the English-language version calls him, Lucifer, King of Hades), again in the person of Pitch --- Well, really, the whole thing was put together by people who simply had no clue as to Santa's primary concepts!

Adding Merlin the Magician (direct from King Arthur's Court) and giving him a special place in Santa's heavenly castle might have worked wonders for the screenwriters, but purists of Camelot and its ilk will certainly ask what in thunder Merlin's doing in a movie about Santa Claus. And what is all this business with magical flowers, and even magic cocktails anyway? The idea of getting drunk to be with the ones you love sounds a bit twisted in my book --- but, as they say, to each his own.

Then we turn to Lupita, the little girl who seems obsessed with being good. OK, it's good to want to be good, but even behaving positively can at times be taken to extremes, as we obviously see here. Pitch makes every effort to seduce her into doing bad things, but at this point it becomes clear that she will not be moved. One has to wonder why. Lucifer has, after all, threatened Pitch that if he fails in his mission against St. Nick, he'll be fed chocolate ice cream (which is fun, but it doesn't exactly classify as a so-called 'punishment'.

Look, the bottom lime here is that this silly film is a laugh riot. How we giggle and guffaw at this film each time we view it is beyond analysis. Just enjoy the darn movie, and laugh yourself a merry (albeit bizarre) little Christmas. Now.

Like Father, Like Santa (1998 TV Movie)

A Brief Kringle Memory

[18 November 2003]

Ho-ho-ho!

One of the last Saban Entertainment projects for the Fox Family Channel prior to Disney's acquisition of both Saban and the network was this delightful, hilarious Kringle odyssey, starring Harry Hamlin, Roy Dotrice, Stuart Pankin, Gary Coleman (in a rare post-"Diff'rent Strokes" cameo) and (get this!) William Hootkins as Santa Claus. "Like Father, Like Santa" might have been forgettable to some, but those who have seen it before (or may see it again on ABC Family, as the network calls itself these days) still consider it quite a hoot!

Tyler Madison (Hamlin) is one of L.A.'s hottest toy manufacturing executives. He has a wife and a son and one of the most notable pedigrees in corporate America today. What no one knows, however, is that Tyler Madison is also the son of Santa Claus (Hootkins) --- and has been estranged from his father for many years. But when an unprecedented crisis befalls Santa's Kingdom, and when gentle-hearted and somewhat reluctant Ambrose (Dotrice), who has spent 30 years as one of Santa's hardest-working Elves, is goaded by the jealous Snipes (Pankin) into taking over the North Pole, Claus Senior and Junior must team up to set things right and restore happiness to the Elf Compound.

Hootkins, who will always be known to Star Wars fans as Jek Porkins (and to certain Batman fans as Lieutenant Eckhardt), provides a kindness and a wisdom unexpected from a character actor of his tenure. When I first saw this film, I myself never knew how much he could bring to the role of Santa. Indeed, I had to shed a tear when I saw him interacting with the kid who portrays Tyler's son. Imagine the kid's excitement when he learns that Santa is in fact his very own grandpa! Now, what kid on Earth wouldn't want to boast that kind of family tie?

"Like Father, Like Santa" is brilliant, hilarious, and somehow poignant; and it's a shame, really, that this rare jewel of a Christmas comedy has to be ranked among the forgotten film treasure of the Season to be Jolly. Still, I heartily recommend it to anyone who has ever wanted to wish upon a star and say: "I wish Santa Claus were my grandpa." Being the so-called Elf without Jingles, I have to tell ya: I kind of feel that way too.

Ho-ho-ho! (By the way, I'm wearing my Santa Claus regalia as I write this, so I trust you'll understand why this review has a very jolly demeanor about it.) Merry Christmas to all!

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (2002)

Reviewing in Character Again

[10 July 2003]

And so, here we are, at the second Harry Potter film. Ah, the memories of the adventure! Where, then, to begin?

Perhaps we should start with the magnificent title sequence. Throwing back to the classic Warner Bros. features of ancient years (80 of them, as a matter of fact), the first fade-in finds us flying through a cloud-filled morning sky. Coming right at us once more, as we knew it inevitably would, is the much-beloved WB shield.... but the flight doesn't stop there. As the shield does a perfect left turn up, some of the clouds part, revealing the film's title logo in all its glory, coming straight at us....

From there, we get on with the tale proper. Dobby's warning that Harry must not return to Hogwarts only makes him more determined to get to the bottom of this "plot... to make terrible things happen." Along the way, we meet a few new Hogwarts teachers, starting with Miriam Margoyles' deliciously silly Professor Sprout, who knows a thing or two about Mandragores. (Dolby Stereo can kill you? Consider the cry of the Mandragore first!)

But of course, it is Kenneth Branagh as ultra-vain Gilderoy Lockhart, the latest teacher in Hogwarts' most severe course, that of Defense Against the Dark Arts, who steals the show. When Harry and his sidekick Ron Weasley ultimately expose Lockhart as a fraud, one cannot help but wonder why Branagh's character chose that particular route, knowing that were he to attempt to rescue Ginny Weasley, Ron's sister, such a bid would only cause his failure.

The Quidditch match is more brutal than last time --- until you read between the lines about the rogue Bludger. It's not spoken of throughout the scene, but one can guess that Dobby was responsible for tampering with the Bludger --- a part of his bid to "protect" Harry from the "plot." Dobby's every move somehow becomes a series of mental puzzles that keep us guessing until Harry's final rematch with Voldemort, in his teenage form as Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. One hopes that newcomer Christian Coulson will have bolder, sexier and more action-packed roles like this one.

Oh yes, there's the little matter of yours truly, as embodied by Richard Harris. Pity that this was his last major role; I would have loved to have gone on with him as me. Still, not all of us can have what we want, and I certainly hope Michael Gambon will be perfect to carry on that proud ol' Dumbledore tradition when Prisoner of Azkaban completes production later in the year.

What, ultimately, to say about Chamber of Secrets overall? Well, I imagine it's just the perfect film for good dreamers. And, as the film comes to an end with a deliciously sumptuous "Welcome Back Feast," our Mr. Potter celebrates my good friend and gamekeeper as simply as possible: "There's no Hogwarts without you, Hagrid." Truer words were never spoken of a more honorable friend.

And so, if I may, a toast. Here's to happy endings --- Hogwarts style, of course!

Faithfully,

Dumbledore

Pufnstuf (1970)

The Power of Krofft

[6 June 2003]

Recently, during the 29th Annual Saturn Awards, presented by Cinescape Magazine, television legends Sid and Marty Krofft were presented with the Living Legend Award, for outstanding career achievement. It's not hard to imagine why. Where Walt Disney had Mickey Mouse as his flagship character, where DIC's Jean Chalopin and Andy Heyward had Inspector Gadget as theirs, so too the Kroffts had beloved H.R. Pufnstuf.

Is it any wonder, then, that long before it became fashionable to make major motion pictures from hit TV series, the Kroffts were light years ahead of their time when they turned their flagship property, H.R. Pufnstuf, into a movie, entitling it simply Pufnstuf. And more, this is the only time we discover the backstory that is briefly described in the regular series' opening sequence. H.R. Pufnstuf ran for only 17 episodes on NBC Saturday mornings, yet Universal Pictures saw enormous potential in Puf, Jimmy, Freddie the Flute, and (naturally!) Witchiepoo to put them on the big screen.

For some weird reason, Pufnstuf the movie is presented largely from Witchiepoo's perspective. Indeed, she it is who opens and closes the film, kicking things off by appearing before us while the screen remains in darkness. She describes all that we're about to witness as a tale of goody-two-shoes "and what they did to poor, sweet, adorable me," according to her. No wonder Billie Hayes remains deeply touched when she recalls how many children flocked as much to her as Witchiepoo as they did to Pufnstuf himself.

I don't have much to say regarding the plot of the film; what I can tell you is, just see this film for yourselves. Bringing Mama Cass Elliott, Martha Raye and the Krofft world together in the same movie was a feat unheard of, even for its time --- 1970. Then again, Krofft was always somehow psychedelic. It still is today. Rock on, Pufnstuf! Rock on, Witchiepoo!

Godspell (1973)

Of Two Godspell Farewells

[16 April 2003]

The hit Broadway musical Godspell was a contemporary adaptation of episodes from the Gospel According to St. Matthew. In 1972, its original Producers, Edgar Lansbury, Stuart Duncan and Joseph Beruh, decided to bring the Stephen Schwartz/Jon-Michael Tebelak musical to the screen themselves, with a view toward maintaining as densely as possible the artistic integrity of their original stage version.

That said, the film version merits special reference in light of the recent deaths of two of its principals: David Greene, who directed and co-wrote the screenplay, with Tebelak; and actress/singer Lynne Thigpen, who was a member of the 10-actor ensemble cast of the film.

Set in a New York City not yet recognizable to a generation destined to grow up in the shadow of 9/11, Godspell the movie is highlighted with spectacular moments that are best described as incredible. Its expanded opening number begins silently on the Brooklyn Bridge, as David Haskell, portraying both John the Baptist and Judas Iscariot, walks into the heart of Manhattan, hoping that his fellow New Yorkers will indeed "Prepare ye the way of the Lord." Jesus, portrayed by Victor Garber (who had a tremendous singing voice in those days), is depicted as a kind of manchild/Superman icon, determined to save the world through his ministry of three years. The ten actors then cavort across the screen over the next 95 or so minutes, telling parables in a raucously funny, delightfully rockin' manner.

In its final sequences, however, the film turns understandably dark, as Garber/Jesus confronts his ultimate destiny. Before long, the epic Finale, in which Garber, tied by his wrists to a chain-link fence, depicts the Crucifixion in horrifyingly simple terms; all the while, the other nine actors scream horribly as the rocking Schwartz score howls to its otherworldly symphonic conclusion.

With the coming of the dawn, the actors carry off their "dead" leader and vanish into the maelstrom of Manhattan, in a closing image that will shake you to its foundations, even as you groove to Paul Shaffer's awesome keyboard action during the expanded end-credit sequence.

The present generation knows Lynne Thigpen as a brilliant actress/singer and performer whose subsequent knack for portraying motherly or grandmotherly roles was no doubt spawned by her experience in the Godspell movie. To a whole universe of kids, however, she will always be known as simply "The Chief." If you were, as I was, a regular viewer of PBS Kids' Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?, and its eventual spinoff, Where in Time is Carmen Sandiego?, you need not be made familiar with the Chief. She was tough, motherly, no-nonsense --- but she knew how to teach fans a thing or two, whether it was the power of geography or the realm of history.

Director David Greene, who died at the age of 82, was the fellow responsible for bringing the spectacular images of the Godspell film to the screen. It remains perhaps his most famous such feature, the only one wherein one could suggest that he was properly in tune with the youth of the 70s. Perhaps, even now, it is this that causes most folks to compare this film against Norman Jewison's film version of Jesus Christ Superstar. Both films, frankly, are what they are. No more, no less.

Enjoy, then, Godspell the movie --- but remember that you are also witnessing the blossoming of two of the unique talents who brought it to life: David Greene, director; Lynne Thigpen, star. So long, you two. We'll miss ya.

The Santa Clause 2 (2002)

Return of the Kringle

[1 November 2002]

Well, folks, he's back: Tim Allen returns as Scott Calvin in Disney's The Santa Clause 2. And already some folks have weighed in on the film, some dismissing it as not worthy of the original, others simply sitting back and having fun. The idea of Santa having to get married lest he be forced to relinquish his duties is a chilling prospect, even for a professional believer in Santa, which I am. But there are several roads that need to be traveled to pursue the truth about this film.

The central focus is Charlie Calvin, Scott's son, played by a now-teenaged Eric Lloyd. In the story, Charlie is put out because the new high school principal won't let the school have Christmas decorations. Taking revenge, and mostly

because he too believes in Santa -- who happens to be his own dad --- Charlie begins writing pro-Santa graffitti on the school walls. Now, I don't think for one minute that pro-Santa graffitti (even of a non-threatening kind) will remind one of the Gerald Paulsen episode of Dragnet, but at least it's enough to get him

suspended. Now Santa must deliberately return to his Scott Calvin phase to

take a hand in the situation, as well as find a Mrs. Claus before the magic of the season is extinguished.

Back at the North Pole, other troubles brew when the duplicate Santa Scott has left behind decides to attempt a hostile takeover bid, further complicating

matters for our hero. How, then, will Scott be able to set stuff right this time? Ah! Well, you'll just need to see the film to find out. But before you do, I have to urge you to ignore the critics and listen to your own inner child, he or she who once grew up with Santa. I say this because, judging by the first few reviews that have come in, the vitriol tossed at this picture has come from several cynical,

hard-nosed, beetle-headed critics who wouldn't know the magic of Santa if it hit them in the face!

I sincerely believe that, regardless of budget or size or scope, the film history of Santa Claus needs proper assessment, examination and expansion. Prior to the

original "The Santa Clause," filmed by Disney 8 years before, Alexander and

Ilya Salkind led the way with "Santa Claus: The Movie," with Dudley Moore and John Lithgow --- and the legend behind that film is only coming to proper light. Even then, 1985, that film was met with cynical criticism, much of it in the

negative. Almost 20 years later, "Santa Claus: The Movie" is being enjoyed by a new generation of believers.I hope that future historians of Santa's movie

resume will treat Disney's "The Santa Clause 2" with similar admiration.

The Country Bears (2002)

Yeee-ha!

[24 July 2002]

This is kind of a first for me as a reviewer here at this Internet Movie Database, because I am weighing in on the inaugural film in an ambitious experiment at Disney: the first in a series of feature films based on the popular attractions at Disneyland and Walt Disney World. And frankly, they could not have picked a better bunch o' folks to take on this first test than the Country Bears. Peter Hastings, one of the creative forces behind "Pinky and the Brain," makes his directorial debut with the story of Beary Barrington (voiced by Haley Joel Osment), who is the #1 fan of the popular musical group the Country Bears. The story has Beary seeking to reunite the foursome --- Zeb Zoober, Ted and Fred Bedderhead and Tennessee O'Neal --- and at the same time, questioning his perception about what family is. The Country Bears themselves broke up many years before, due to the usual personal squabbles that one may associate with a popular music group, ego being not the least among them. Meanwhile, Christopher Walken costars as the villain of the piece, a real estate developer who lost out to the group in a talent show 30 years before. He hasn't forgotten the loss, and he seeks to avenge it by destroying the Bears' base of operations, Country Bear Hall. Now young Beary must battle to reunite his favorite singing group despite their years of animosity, and stop the developer before he tears the Bears' Hall down. That Disney finally has given in to the requests of several thousands of theme park fans and dared to step up to the challenge of making a movie based on its own theme park characters speaks volumes about why they should have used their theme park characters on the silver screen years ago! After I had visited Epcot in October of 1985, I had so fallen in love with Dreamfinder and Figment from the Imagination Pavillion that I soon ended up wishing that Disney would give them their own movie. So in more than a larger sense, the Country Bears' movie brings back a whole mess of memories. Disney has done much with its theme park attractions for over 25 years, but until now, they never dared to put one of their park attractions on the big screen. Before anybody dares throw any brickbats at this film, I think the Mouse House needs to be thanked for finally listening to its fans for once. What's more this is just the beginning. Feature-length adaptations of two other Disney theme park attractions --- Pirates of the Caribbean and the Haunted Mansion --- are being planned even now; and of course, there was the Disney TV-movie from a few years back, based on the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror. So if you're willing to suspend disbelief, and listen to a bunch of bears make music that makes bears (and humans) happy, go see this one. Besides, you'll be doing the ghost of my mom a big favor. She always had this fondness for the Country Bears, though I never truly understood it until now. Maybe, I suppose, this movie was made for good folks like her.

Tron (1982)

Think about the future: exploring Tron

[24 June 2002]

The year is 1982, and Disney, still in the grip of its "what would Walt have done?" era under then-Chairman and Executive Producer Ron Miller, has, in a rare fit of innovation, hired Boston-based animator/director Steven Lisberger to create a spectacular sci-fi revolution. It will eventually be titled TRON.

At its core, the basic plot of TRON is a standard right-the-wrong story. Kevin Flynn, the film's central character (Jeff Bridges), is an up-and-coming videogame-arcade owner, recently fired from his job at a top electronics conglomerate named Encom. Flynn, however, has reason to believe that his firing was unjust; and the story follows his bid to correct that error. As we hear him tell his former co-workers, Dr. Alan Bradley (Bruce Boxleitner) and his girlfriend/colleague, Laura (Cindy Morgan), Flynn had been part of Encom 3 years earlier, and had hoped to launch his own game-making enterprise on the strength of the game "Space Paranoids," which he himself had designed. Fate, however, intervened --- and his name turned out to be Ed Dillinger (David Warner). It is Dillinger, Flynn explains, who was responsible for stealing the original "Paranoid" program; the problem is, Encom's all-powerful --- and power-hungry --- Master Control Program (MCP) has shut down access to the entire system, preventing Flynn from obtaining the evidence he needs to prove Dillinger's treachery.

To secure that evidence, Flynn must journey into the heart of the MCP itself.... and what a journey that is! We are taken into an electronic society whose inhabitants --- exact doppelganers of the humans who programmed them --- wage intense video-battles for the right to survive and flourish. This, I think, would say something about the career of Steven Lisberger himself. Many of those responsible for TRON came from Lisberger's Boston-based animation studio --- among them, producer Donald Kushner and supervising animator Roger Allers. They had just come off of filming the 1980 feature Animalympics, and were all set to sell the rights to that film's characters to NBC, the idea being to use said characters as Saturday-morning hosts for the duration of the Summer Olympic Games. Alas, the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and President Jimmy Carter's boycott of the Moscow games put the kibosh on those plans (even now, Lisberger's Animalympic characters are gaining a rebirth of sorts on the web); so now, two years later, they hoped to have better luck with the Mouse Factory.

While the visuals of TRON were fairly exciting, the film was a limited sort of success when it was originally released; indeed, it did little to boost director Lisberger's subsequent career. He claims to be in negotiations with Disney to conceive, direct and supervise an alleged sequel, to be called TRON 2.0 --- but, as always, I'll believe it when I see it. Still, there can be no denial that TRON was the first movie to really fuse together the worlds of motion pictures and computer technology. I watched an excerpt from a retrospective making-of documentary on TRON in which it was revealed that the Academy refused to even nominate the film for a Visual Effects Oscar because neither models on hand-drawn animation was used in creating TRON's visuals. This got me to thinking: Were we all that nearsighted, even in a post-Star Wars generation? Perhaps we did not know it at the time, but I would imagine that some of us believed we had reached the future of special-effects based movies. Wrong. It would be up to Pixar and "Toy Story" some 15 years later to raise the bar in terms of the future of the marriage of computer and film. John Lasseter hit the nail on the head: Without TRON, he said, there would be no 'Toy Story'. And even today, there are some who have no choice but to agree. I happen to be one of those people.

In fact, I for one would not only like to see a renaissance of TRON, but also a renaissance of the original legacy of director Steven Lisberger, in the form of his characters from "Animalympics." If Disney secures the rights to that property, and hires him to supervise and direct a new version, that likewise would be the coolest thing of all! Hopefully, those who are now re-embracing TRON will let the Mouse Factory know.

In closing, though, just this: there will always be controversies in films and filmmaking --- spearheaded by men and women who are more than willing to think outside the normal way of filmmaking. Such a person, I think, is Steven Lisberger ..... and his epic saga called TRON was, and is, among the first pioneer films to represent this small breed of controversies.

The Star Wars Holiday Special (1978 TV Movie)

A brief comment(?)

[13 June 2002]

From Steve Binder, the man who brought you Elvis' legendary '68 Comeback Special --- and Gary Smith and Dwight Hemion, television's longest-running production company partnership --- comes the lost page from the Journal of the Whills that George Lucas doesn't want you to see!

That's right, kids, we're talking about "The Star Wars Holiday Special" --- and as I look back at the few times I've explored this minor link in the vast chain of Star Wars, I often wonder why CBS was compelled to run the show only once. I guess those in the know at the time had their own ideas about what a 'variety show,' as such television extravaganzas were known then, really was. Apparently, George Lucas, who, according to Dale Pollock's book "Skywalking: The Life and Films of George Lucas," was an avowed viewer (ironically) of both the CBS Evening News and 60 Minutes, didn't see things CBS' way. Who knows?

Anyway, the idea was basically to put something with the distinctive Star Wars hallmarks on the air for the Thanksgiving/Christmas season, so I guess things sort of worked out according to plan. Anyway, you had four original songs from Ken & Mitzie Welch, two of them (at least, that I can immediately recall!) being "This Minute Now," sung by a very kinky Diahann Carroll; and "Good Night, But Not Goodbye," a raucous ballad teaming Beatrice Arthur with Figrin D'an and the Modal Nodes. (Weird, huh?) Then there are attempts to link the several comedic elements, involving Art Carney and Harvey Korman, into a coherent story featuring the regulars, focusing on the Wookiee celebration called Life Day .... and whether or not it all makes for two hours of sensible "entertainment."

Why the Holiday Special has earned its place in Star Wars history at all is best summed up in the 11-minute animated sequence from the folks at Nelvana, wherein we officially meet the bounty hunter Boba Fett for the first time. That first appearance alone, I think, is reason enough for George to recant his desire to burn every exisiting copy of this delicious silly adventure from that magical disco universe which was 1978. After all, six years later, Lucasfilm would turn to Nelvana again to bring the Ewoks/Droids Adventure Hour to animated life --- with more enduring results (for some).

But what really causes the fans to cringe, and I guess I have to kind of agree, is the idea of Princess Leia singing a song! I think, boys and girls, we all know why, after having seen Mark Hamill, Artoo, Threepio and Chewie on The Muppet Show, the Stars of Star Wars should not sing! Thus, we have another item one can file under "What the !@#%$ were they thinking?" ('Nuff said.)

Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones (2002)

Taking stock of the Legend: Why the brickbats now?

[13 June 2002]

In the days after "The Empire Strikes Back," and almost prior to --- and shortly following --- "Return of the Jedi," there was the general belief that any discussion of projects from Lucasfilm would be inevitably compared to the Star Wars Saga. Probably two of the most controversial projects under George's watch to undergo such criticism were his teamups with Jim Henson ("Labyrinth") and Ron Howard ("Willow"). The general consensus was that the Star Wars films were, to some extent, 'critic-proof.' Perhaps, until now.

The centerpiece of the pros and cons of "Star Wars: Episode II --- Attack of the Clones" lies at the heart of the origins of Anakin Skywalker. The attempt has been made to understand not only who and what he was, but also why he became Darth Vader, why his actions instigated the chain of events chronicled in what we now know as Episodes IV, V and VI. As we have often been reminded, in more than a few cases by Lucas himself, the whole point of the Saga's basic story is the quest of Luke Skywalker to discover why everything he has ever been told, everything he has ever loved or cared about --- has been a lie. Why then do Episodes I and II exist? Because George Lucas, for all his alleged incompetence as a director --- and you will note that here I use "alleged incompetence" with bitter sarcasm --- has patiently waited for the magic of the movies to reach the level in terms of technology and artistic excellence whereby he might yet finish the story he would wish to tell in his own basic design.

George knows, in other words, exactly where his story is going. It is up to us, his fans, to discover the way and the meaning of that way for ourselves. He begins by stating --- through the movie's very title --- that the story to be told this time will finally answer the questions that have plagued die-hard Star Wars fans for centuries: the origins of the Clone Wars and the events that shaped them. These events, as we see over the course of the story, will have earth-shattering consequences for Anakin Skywalker. Throughout the story, he is frustrated by many things: his desire to learn the ways of the Jedi in his own way; his struggle to come to terms with his love for former Queen, now Senator, Padme Amidala --- and then, most tragically of all, his failure to keep his promise to his mother ... that he would one day return to free her from her bond of slavery. More than any of these tragedies, it is this one in particular that will ultimately sow the seeds of his journey toward the Dark Side of the Force.

Which, of course, means that we must now ask ourselves: has the failure of Anakin Skywalker been merely a preview of the events that would shape the life-patterns of his son? Or is there more to the chronicle that George Lucas will allow us to let on? Only when Star Wars, Episode III is released will we truly discover and understand the answers. Until then, the wisest thing any Padawan learner (potential or otherwise) can do is to accept patience. George knows where the story is taking us. In due time he will finally show us the way. For now, we who are his loyal believers continue to stand and wait.............

Naked Gun 33 1/3: The Final Insult (1994)

Of Doing Frank Drebin

[19 May 2002]

Oscar night. Who will win? Who will lose? And will somebody get that numbskull off stage? Waitaminnit! That's no ordinary numbskull --- that's Lt. Frank Drebin! And he's crashing Hollywood's biggest party to stop a sinister terrorist plot that could spell curtains for him --- or will a simple lampshade be enough? OK, Internet Movie Database denizens, I'll admit it: When I first saw that synopsis, I had to laugh. The two previous Naked Gun adventures had tickled my funny bone, so I knew what to expect from Nielsen, Presley, Simpson, Kennedy and the other twits conned by Team ZAZ into making a fast buck for this little darling. The references to Thelma & Louise, Beavis & Butt-head, and even Johnny Mathis are worth the ticket admission alone, and the cameos from Charlotte Zucker (mom of Jerry and David); producer Robert K. Weiss (who really could play the tuba if he wanted to) and even director Peter Segal are wild things. Then, of course, you have the Oscar Night spoof itself, complete with the uncredited voice of occasional Oscar announcer Les Marshak, and Pia Zadora grooving (?) to Steve Allen's "The Start of Something Big" and getting humiliated during it. Did the filmmakers, I wonder, want to get revenge on Pia for, say, "Santa Claus Conquers the Martians"? Hmmmmmmmmm......

But hey, if putting your mind on hold for 90 minutes is cool for you, then you need the Naked Gun trilogy, particularly this, its concluding link. Gee, I wonder what WOULD'VE happened if they'd gotten stupid enough to do Naked Gun 4.