Kong: Skull Island

Now, more than ever, Hollywood studios are all about movie franchises – not just one sequel after another, but several franchises existing in a larger one, often referred to as a cinematic universe. Studio executives gamble hundreds of millions of dollars on these individual franchises in the hopes that they’ll be commercially successful. Marvel Studios led the charge and has been doing it longer and more successful than anyone else while its rival, DC Entertainment, has had decidedly mixed results.

This hasn’t stopped every studio from trying with Warner Bros. wading into the fray with Godzilla (2014), the first franchise within the MonsterVerse. It was successful enough financially to embolden the studio to go ahead with their second franchise reboot – Kong: Skull Island (2017). Instead of setting it during the 1930s as Peter Jackson’s epic reimagining had done in 2005, the filmmakers decided to set it during the Vietnam War with all sorts of references to Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now (1979). It’s a nifty idea but does it translate into a decent movie?

Unlike Godzilla, this movie wastes no time introducing the Big Guy in a fast-paced prologue set somewhere in the South Pacific during World War II. Is the purpose of this sequence to establish Kong’s presence in roughly the same geographic neighborhood as Godzilla thereby linking these franchises? The opening credits take us through three decades of history until we reach 1973 and the last days of the Vietnam War.

Bill Randa (John Goodman), a senior government official, and Houston Brooks (Corey Hawkins), a young geologist, fast-talk their way into mounting an expedition to the mysterious Skull Island complete with a military escort. The soldiers were supposed to be going home but their superior officer, Colonel Packard (Samuel L. Jackson), a career military man, is more than happy to take on one more mission.

Since they are venturing into uncharted territory, Randa hires professional tracker James Conrad (Tom Hiddleston), a former British Special Air Service captain. Mason Weaver (Brie Larson) is an acclaimed photojournalist intrigued by the air of mystery that surrounds the island and finagles her way onto the expedition. Both Conrad and Weaver are outsiders and suspicious of the true nature of this mission, which creates an uneasy bond between them.

This movie makes some odd choices along the way, like the scene where the expedition flies a squadron of helicopters through a dense and difficult storm that surrounds the island but all the tension of this scene is drained by Packard droning on about the Icarus myth. Why? Samuel L. Jackson’s flat delivery is supposed to demonstrate his character’s unflappable nature, I suppose, but it also robs the scene of the white-knuckle intensity that everyone else is experiencing. The establishing shots of the lush island are breathtaking and then the filmmakers ruin the mood by blasting Black Sabbath over the soundtrack a la “Ride of the Valkyries” in Apocalypse Now.

Fortunately, this clumsy moment is disrupted by a Kong attack, captured in agonizing slow motion and then a fantastic shot of the giant ape in front of the setting sun with the helicopters coming at him. Not surprisingly, Kong makes short work of the helicopters in a thrillingly staged sequence as he ruthlessly dispatches these aggressive interlopers on his turf while Packard quietly fumes in anger as Jackson gets to do his best Captain Ahab impression, growling his way through his dialogue while doing his best Kubrickian death stare. You know he will make it his life’s mission to take the giant ape down in retribution for killing several of his men.

As determined as Packard is, Randa is even more obsessed with killing Kong for his own personal reasons that John Goodman chillingly reveals to Packard. Meanwhile, Conrad and Weaver just want to escape the island, alive if possible, but it won’t be easy as they encounter all sorts of creatures – some benign, some very deadly. The movie quickly divides its time between Packard and his men and Conrad and Weaver.

John C. Reilly’s scene-stealing turn as a World War II pilot that crash landed near the island and has been trapped their ever since acts as our grizzled tour guide to this exotic land and its inhabitants while also acting as Skull Island’s equivalent to Dennis Hopper’s gonzo photojournalist in Apocalypse Now. He provides much-welcome levity amidst the CGI workouts and cardboard character stereotypes while also injecting a humanistic energy and vitality that is largely absent from the rest of the movie. To that end, Tom Hiddleston and Brie Larson aren’t given much to do except gape at amazement at the CGI wonders the filmmakers put in front of them, or grim-faced determination as they run away from another computer generated monster.

I see what the filmmakers are trying to do with Skull Island – fuse the hallucinogenic madness of Apocalypse Now with King Kong (1933), which is admittedly an intriguing idea. That being said, Skull Island comes across more as a great movie pitch that hasn’t been developed any further than that. Say what you will about Peter Jackson’s King Kong, but at least it was a personal statement and a love letter to the original film while Skull Island feels more like franchise building, but I do appreciate the 1970s Vietnam War era setting; it’s just a shame that the filmmakers don’t do more with it than endlessly reference Apocalypse Now and use it as an excuse to play classic rock over the soundtrack at various points. The movie has performed well at the box office so mission accomplished I suppose.

Them!

BLOGGER'S NOTE: This post is part of the Keep Watching the Skies Blogathon over at The Cinematic Frontier blog.

The creation of and subsequent use of atomic bombs in World War II had a profound effect on the world – one that is still being felt to this day. It had an immediate impact in the United States with the public being afraid of potential war with Russia in the 1950s as they sought to build their own nuclear arsenal in competition with America. There was also the fear of the effects that nuclear power would have on everyday life and this manifested itself in many ways.

In the world of film, Hollywood sought to capitalize on this anxiety by producing monster movies involving irradiated animals and insects that grew to massive proportions, threatening the lives of average citizens. These movies successfully connected with audiences and soon, Hollywood was churning them out on a regular basis. Of the many that were made, one of the best was Them! (1954) featuring giant ants mutated by radiation in New Mexico.

The origins of Them! lie with former Warner Bros. staff producer Ted Sherdeman who commissioned the original story from George Worthing Yates about giant ants nesting in the New York City subway tunnels. Sherdeman liked the story because, other than man, “ants are the only creatures in the world who plan and wage war, and nobody trusted the atomic bomb at the time.” Yates also wrote the screenplay but it was rejected by the studio for being too expensive to produce because of all the special effects sequences.

Russell Hughes, a contract writer for the studio, was brought on board to rewrite the script and he came up with the structure that consisted of a detective story for the first half and an action thriller for the second half. Hughes died prematurely from a heart attack with only 20 pages completed and so Sherdeman finished it himself.

He then pitched the project to the studio via drawings and a 16mm film about ants made by entomologists from UCLA. He also got art designer Larry Meiggs to make a three-foot ant head with movable antennae and mandibles. Warner Bros. executive Steve Trilling was impressed and a film test was shot. However, studio head Jack L. Warner wasn’t convinced of its commercial prospects and offered the project to 20th Century Fox. Sherdeman convinced WB producer Walter McCuhan that Them! had commercial potential because Fox was willing to pay a decent amount of money for the story. The studio finally agreed to finance the film.

Two State Police Officers find a little girl (Sandy Descher) walking alone in the desert. She doesn’t respond to their inquiries and appears to be in a state of shock, traumatized by some unknown event. They investigate a trailer nearby and find that it has been ripped open by something quite large. I like that director Gordon Douglas shows the officers examining the trailer for clues as to what happened, especially Sergeant Ben Peterson (James Whitmore) who carefully inspects various items, including a strange print in the sand outside.

This procedural stuff piques our curiosity but what really gets our attention more than anything else is a high-pitched noise that awakens the now-sleeping child. The look of absolute terror in her eyes is chilling. What would make that sound and do that kind of damage, rendering a little girl into a nearly catatonic state?

The two troopers investigate a general store later that night and it too has been torn open from the outside. A sandstorm rages outside, which only adds to the ominous atmosphere and a sense of foreboding. Like the trailer, they find sugar lying out in the open and no money has been taken. While Peterson heads back to the station his partner stays behind only to be attacked and killed by the source of the high-pitched noise.

When one of the victims turns out to be an FBI agent on vacation with his family, the Bureau sends one of its representatives, Special Agent Robert Graham (James Arness), to investigate. Everyone is mystified by the print they found at the first crime scene until two representatives from the Department of Agriculture – father /daughter team Dr. Harold Medford (Edmund Gwenn) and Dr. Pat Medford (Joan Weldon) – deduce that it belongs to a monstrous ant. They get first-hand knowledge when one of them attacks Pat in a suspenseful scene in a sandstorm. The solution to the problem is simple – they have to find the nest and destroy it but it isn’t going to be that easy as two airborne queens split the scene for parts unknown.

The elder Medford is the stereotypical absent-minded professor that provides a lot of the film’s humor as he fumbles his way through things like radio etiquette but is brilliant in his area of expertise, acting as the voice of reason. He also gets to intone some of the film’s best lines, like his sage warning early on, “We maybe witness to a biblical prophecy come true.” The younger Medford is the leggy scientist that claims she is as capable as any man only having to be rescued by Graham and Peterson when attacked by a giant ant.

All of the actors do excellent work in their respective roles with Edmund Gwenn as an erudite scientist, who is both amusingly befuddled by things outside of his expertise and a wonderful deliverer of exposition dialogue, as one of the standouts along with James Whitmore who brings a no-frills authenticity that contrasts effectively with the fantastical premise of giant ants.

His style of acting echoes Douglas’ no-nonsense direction, which expertly handles simple scenes with characters talking to each other, while keeping our interest, as he does with the exciting action sequences. He even has the confidence to stop the narrative more than halfway through to give us a science lesson on how ants act and live! It is classic Hollywood filmmaking at its finest. The exposition-heavy screenplay is well-written and brought to life by the talented cast. The end result is the best monster movie to come out of the ‘50s. Them! is a fascinating reflection of the fears of atomic power that people felt at the time. Dr. Medford sums it up best at the very end when he says, “When man entered the atomic age he opened the door into a new world. What we will eventually find in that new world nobody can predict.”

SOURCES

Stafford, Jeff. “Them!” Turner Classic Movies.

King Kong

Considered to be one of the greatest movie monsters of all time, King Kong has enjoyed many cinematic incarnations, most recently Peter Jackson’s lavish love letter to the 1933 classic. There is something inherently and powerfully mythic about Kong that inspires filmmakers to revisit the monster time and time again but none have managed to best the original despite innovations in special effects technology. Why is that? At its heart, King Kong (1933) is a cautionary tale about the hubris of man and the dangers of interfering with the laws of nature.

Carl Denham (Robert Armstrong) is a fearless adventurer/filmmaker who travels all over the world looking for dangerous animals to capture on film. He represents said hubris and sums up his larger than life ambitions quite well early on when he tells his backers, “I’m going out and make the greatest picture in the world – something that nobody’s ever seen or heard of. They’ll have to think up a lot of new adjectives when I get back.” Denham was the James Cameron of his day.

This time around, however, he has to have a woman in his movie because the public wants romance. He finds his leading lady, Ann Darrow (Fay Wray), on the street, caught trying to steal a piece of fruit, and is struck by her beauty. She is just desperate enough to accept Denham’s vague yet persuasive pitch. Pretty soon, everyone is on board for a long cruise to a distant and exotic land. On this latest excursion, Denham has not disclosed to the crew of the Venture where they are going or for how long.

Once the ship reaches a certain point, Denham reveals his mission to the Captain (Frank Reicher) and the first mate, Jack Driscoll (Bruce Cabot): he plans to find an island not located on any map. Its denizens are far removed from civilization and worship a god known only as Kong, a mythic creature he hopes to find on the island and photograph. Denham describes him as “neither beast nor man. Something monstrous. All powerful. Still living, still holding that island in a grip of deadly fear.” It’s a tantalizing teaser that makes us want to know more.

The first 20 minutes of King Kong do an excellent job of establishing the main characters and their relationships with each other while creating an air of mystery about their destination. Denham remains elusive about his intentions until the Venture arrives at specific coordinates. They find the island and it is revealed in an atmospheric sequence that begins with a memorable shot of the ship enshrouded in fog. The closer they get, the faint sound of tribal drumming can be heard, which effectively creates a foreboding mood. The establishing shot of Skull Island is incredibly evocative and is an impressive sight to behold, capturing an eerie tone that is quite thrilling to behold.

Once Denham and his crew land on the island, they run afoul of the natives who offer Ann as a sacrifice to Kong, a giant ape. It is a fascinating snapshot of the times – the thinly-veiled xenophobia as Denham thinks he can fast talk his way through negotiations with the village chief, as if this place is just another location that is there for him to use. From this point, King Kong becomes a rousing action/adventure movie as Denham and company discover just how dangerous this island is as they encounter all sorts of lethal creatures that do a good job of thinning the away party’s numbers.

Peril lurks at every turn as Kong is forced to take out a Tyrannosaurus Rex in an exciting and fantastically-realized battle. The stop-motion animation is particularly impressive here – giving the knock-down, drag-out fight a visceral quality that is missing from Jackson’s movie with its heavy reliance on CGI re-imaging. There’s an almost tangible quality to the ’33 version that no amount of then-state-of-the-art motion capture work in Jackson’s incarnation can hope to replicate. The Kong effects still hold up after all these years and one marvels at how the big ape’s fur ripples in a given scene or how the filmmakers expertly cut back and forth from long shots of a stop-motion animated version to close-ups of his head crushing some hapless victim in his mouth or large hand or foot stomping someone that gets in his way. Conversely, the pained expression on his face when he realizes that he’s bleeding from machine gun fire during the film’s climactic battle is particularly heartbreaking.

Robert Armstrong plays Denham with the kind of can-do, might-makes-right, self-made man qualities that would be popular in many 1980s action movies. For example, once Ann is captured by Kong, Denham and Jack go rampaging through the jungle needlessly killing a dinosaur after they’ve already subdued it with gas grenades. Denham represents naked ambition – a man that will risk life and limb to get what he wants even if it means taking an impoverished woman off the street and convincing her to make a film on an exotic land far away. She’s starving and has nothing to lose, which makes her decision an easy one. He wants to capture the giant ape so badly that he even considers using Ann as bait. All he sees is dollar signs – fame and fortune no matter the cost.

Fay Wray is excellent as Ann, a woman drawn to Denham’s expedition as a way to escape her poor living conditions only to become a part of something that she hadn’t bargained for in her wildest dreams (or nightmares). Her screen test for Denham does a nice job of showcasing Wray’s acting chops as Ann has to react to her director’s instructions. The actress is so convincing that she has the ship’s crew invested in her performance. Right from her first on-screen appearance, we empathize with Ann and care about what happens to her, which is important when she arrives on the island and is immediately put in peril. Wray also has the challenge of acting opposite Kong and it is her reactions that help flesh out the creature and make him sympathetic.

Kong’s “inspection” of Ann is that of an adolescent discovering women for the first time – he’s inquisitive and tentative, intrigued by what she wears and even how she smells. It is a fascinating scene in large part because it gives Kong some depth – he’s not just some dumb monster rampaging through the jungle but rather a curious creature fiercely protective of Ann.

The movie was remade in 1976 and again in 2005 by Peter Jackson who re-imagined it as an epic, mega-budget, fanboy love letter to the original that inspired him to become a movie director in the first place. Clocking in at double the running time of the ’33 version, Jackson’s movie is an ambitious juggernaut that, like his The Lord of the Rings trilogy, is ambitious in scale and scope and yet still has that personal touch.

Ann Darrow (Naomi Watts) is a struggling Vaudevillian actress whose venue has been closed down due to poor attendance. The country is in the grips of the Great Depression and times are tough. Carl Denham (Jack Black) is a filmmaker working on an adventure film that is in danger of losing its funding. However, he has come into the possession of a map to a mysterious island that may save his film. Denham even tricks up-and-coming screenwriter Jack Driscoll (Adrien Brody) to stay on board so that he can finish the film’s screenplay. In desperation, Denham steals the existing cans of film and assembles a cast and crew (including Ann) and sets sail for the island on his map.

Jackson follows the story structure of the original quite faithfully but fleshes out each segment so that we spend more time in New York City/on the boat, Skull Island and back in the city. He takes the elements from these segments and amplifies them. For example, Kong doesn’t fight a Tyrannosaurus Rex, he fights three of them! Jackson also goes to great lengths to flesh out the main characters and show what motivates them, developing their relationships. By the time we get to the action sequences we know what makes them tick, what is at stake and what they have to lose thereby making the action sequences more compelling.

He still manages to think like an independent director by inserting whimsical interludes, like those early on in the film between Denham and his assistant (Colin Hanks). It is these details that are just as important as capturing Manhattan circa 1930s. Jackson thinks on a macro and micro level unlike Michael Bay who works on a grandiose level.

The attention to period detail is incredible. ‘30s era Manhattan is faithfully recreated with the extensive use of warm, golden lighting being quite inviting. There is a scene where Denham convinces Ann to join his expedition that takes place in a diner, which looks like something out of an Edward Hopper painting. Another example is the glowing, warm light that comes out of the portholes of the Venture in the background of a scene that suggests warm life and a more intimate feeling. There is a connection between the characters and all the elements in the scene.

Jackson is also a master at creating the kind of atmospheric worlds in his movies that immerse the viewer completely. The places the characters inhabit have that lived in look and an authenticity that gives this world texture. The lighting in this film is impressive with nods to Classic Hollywood cinema. For example, Naomi Watts looks absolutely radiant in the initial scenes on the boat as Jackson manages to top the visual splendor of James Cameron’s Titanic (1997). In sharp contrast is his depiction of Skull Island as a horrifying, foreboding place, a harsh environment filled with jagged rocks and inhabited by nightmarish natives. There is something very unnatural about them and it’s in their wild and crazed eyes.

The movie takes us deeper into the island as the rescue party sets out to find and bring back Ann from the clutches of Kong. This is an action-packed section that manages to top anything seen in the first three Jurassic Park movies. The Brontosaurus stampede, for example, is intense and exciting as is the Tyrannosaurus/Kong rumble in the jungle.

Jackson is able to create almost unbearable amounts of tension out of every exciting chase as the rescue party is picked off by Kong and other nasties on Skull Island. He also gently guides us into terror as we go from the whimsy of the Ann-Jack romance to the tension and an unease of the fog-enshrouded, uncharted waters of the island. Its first appearance, cued by ominous music and then the sight of the massive wall appearing out of the fog is impressively staged.

At the time, Kong was arguably the most realistically CGI rendered character ever put on film (even topping Jackson’s previous achievement with Gollum from the Rings films) and this is due in large part to Andy Serkis providing the basis for the ape’s movements and the realistic expressions on the animal’s face. For example, there is a scene where Darrow performs for him and we see his mood go from anger to bemusement and back to anger when she stops. We see all of these emotions play out on Kong’s face in completely believable fashion. It really is an astounding achievement as over the course of the movie we begin to empathize with Kong just like in the original.

I’m of two minds when it comes to this cinematic incarnation of Kong. On the one hand, I appreciate the skill and artistry that Jackson instills in every single frame of his movie, but on the other hand, it still feels like nothing more than a really expensive fan letter to the original with the mandate that bigger is better. That being said, it’s a really well-made fan letter to the original.

The ’33 King Kong version is ultimately a tragic monster movie as the poor ape is taken from his natural habitat and exploited for profit only to meet an untimely demise amidst the concrete jungle of New York City. The real villain is Denham whose lust for greed results in the deaths of many people during the course of Kong. The movie is certainly a stinging indictment against the hubris of American culture imposing itself on foreign civilizations. Denham and his landing party interrupt an important ritual thereby offending the natives and they don’t expect any kind of reprisals? And then they capture Kong and exploit him like some kind of freak show for the rich and privileged to gawk at in amazement. No wonder Kong gets mad, breaks free and trashes New York City in an attempt to be alone with Ann, the woman he has fallen in love with. By the end of the movie, Denham has a lot of blood on his hands and a lot to answer for.

What makes Kong such a compelling monster that still beats all the CGI creations of today is that his creators were able to impart a personality by giving him such an expressive face that is able to convey a wide range of emotions – anger, curiosity, pain and even love. It is really a shame that most people who were raised on CGI effects laden movies probably won’t appreciate the artistry that went into making Kong and laugh at the dated effects. For those of us who grew up in the pre-CGI days, weaned on glorious Ray Harryhausen classics like Jason and the Argonauts (1963), Kong still thrills. It is also one of the best action/adventure films ever made.

The Lair of the White Worm

The 1980s was a fantastic decade for feminist horror with countless movies featuring a combination of resilient female protagonists pitted against same sex antagonists. The former of which became known as the final girl because she was usually the sole survivor or the one that actually prevailed over the monster, killer, etc. In one way or another, many of these movies featured women driving the narrative, which included popular franchises like Friday the 13th and A Nightmare on Elm Street, as well as notable genre examples like The Hunger (1983), Hellraiser (1987), and Night of the Demons (1988) to name but only a few.

Arguably, the pinnacle of the feminist horror movie from this decade is The Lair of the White Worm (1988), a loose adaptation of Bram Stoker’s last novel, written and directed by British maverick filmmaker Ken Russell. He manages to have his cake and eat it too in the sense that the film is chock full of scantily-clad women, full-on female nudity, but balances this out by featuring two female protagonists, each with boyfriends that, by and large, act as arm candy, reacting to what the women do, as they go up against a powerful villainess. It makes for a wild, cinematic ride that saw the veteran provocateur still capable of skewering sacred taboos and has fun doing it.

Scottish archaeology student Angus Flint (Peter Capaldi) finds a fossil that he believes may have come from Roman times over a thousand years ago at an excavation site of an English convent. We are introduced to the young man celebrating his find with an off-kilter yell that is certainly an odd way to introduce his character and sets the tone for the rest of the film. He’s staying on site at a bed and breakfast run by the Trent sisters, Mary (Sammi Davis) and Eve (Catherine Oxenberg), who take him to a party later that night at a lavish mansion belonging to their landlord, James d’Ampton (Hugh Grant).

James theorizes that the fossil Angus unearthed is that of a large snake, the legendary d’Ampton “worm” that was slain in Stonerich Cavern by the former’s ancestor. Russell does a nice job of relating the snake legend through song by a local folk band whose stage show anticipates a similar strobe-lighted affair in a certain Canadian roadhouse in David Lynch’s Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992).

Meanwhile, one of the local constables (Paul Brooke) checks out a disturbance over at Temple House, the stately abode of Lady Sylvia Marsh (Amanda Donohoe), who “saves” the man from snakebite. When she’s not casually bragging about changing cars as often as a snake sheds its skin, Lady Sylvia is not above hissing venom on a crucifix she encounters while skulking around the Trent B&B. In no time, she has stolen the fossil and later kidnaps Eve with plans to sacrifice the girl to her snake god Dionin. It’s up to Angus and Mary, with James’ help, to stop the evil snake lady from summoning her ancient god.

Cast as an immortal priestess, Amanda Donohoe steals every scene as the sexy Lady Sylvia, chewing deliciously on the campy dialogue and playing up her vampy seductress role as evident in the scene where she takes in a hapless hitchhiker and proceeds to paralyze him with a bite, but not before toying with the young lad by dancing to his somber harmonica playing all the while decked out in a sheer black negligee and thigh-high black leather boots. Donohoe exudes the cool confidence of an evil mastermind and looks like she’s having a lot of fun with the role.

The Lair of the White Worm was an early role for Hugh Grant that saw him in classic foppish Englishman mode and whose purpose is to convey expositional dialogue, which brings our heroes (and us) up to speed on the d’Ampton worm legend. Peter Capaldi has a little more to do as he finds the fossil that kicks off the story and swoops in at the film’s climax to save the day. Sammi Davis is the proactive female protagonist that is unfortunately reduced to a damsel distress at the aforementioned climax while Catherine Oxenberg doubles as eye candy and also as a catalyst in the sense that her abduction motivates our heroes to go after Lady Sylvia. This young cast gamely delivers all kinds of playful dialogue that include numerous snake references and a cheeky nod to Citizen Kane (1941).

In 1912, Bram Stoker wrote his last novel The Lair of the White Worm, which recalled English literature that depicted legends about giant serpents or “worms,” and fused that with folklore and traditional songs to create a story about a white worm so powerful it could transform itself into a beautiful woman that found victims to sacrifice. At the time, Stoker was suffering from a crippling illness and that affected his mind and, in turn, influenced his writing.

As a result, the novel was considered unfilmable until Ken Russell decided to adapt it. In doing so, he was candid about his views of Stoker’s book: “The Lair of the White Worm was written by someone who had a good idea in his head but didn’t have the capacity to properly put it on paper.” He found the book to be a narrative mess and took what he felt were the best parts and incorporated folk songs like “The D’Ampton Worm.” Tired of doing Victorian gothic films, Russell decided to set it in contemporary times. Filming began in February 1988 on location in Hertfordshire and Derbyshire counties in England and at Cannon Elstree Studios outside of London.

Surprisingly, The Lair of the White Worm received generally positive to mixed reviews. Roger Ebert gave the film two out of four stars and felt that it was not up to Russell’s standards: “This is the sort of exercise he could film with one hand tied behind his back, and it looks like that was indeed more or less his approach.” In her review for The New York Times, Janet Maslin wrote, “Miss Donohoe plays the role with a marvelously withering verbal understatement, which is not exactly matched by the film’s visual style.” The Los Angeles Times’ Kevin Thomas wrote, “While an abundant sense of humor cannot save the film from terminal silliness, it might make watching it bearable and even sometimes amusing.” In his review for the Washington Post, Richard Harrington wrote, “There’s so much going on (we’ve barely touched the surface here) that Lair may be better served on video, where, like Russell himself, it can be more easily analyzed. His mind boggles.” Finally, the Chicago Tribune’s Dave Kehr wrote, “There is enough gore and cheesecake to appease the marketplace, though this is a film that functions largely through the skill and swiftness of its storytelling.”

Russell has a bit of fun with the notion of feminist horror by snarkily poking fun at it in his trademark fashion. Early on, Eve has a bizarre, blasphemous vision of Jesus on the Cross being attacked by the d’Ampton worm while Roman legionnaires brutally rape several nuns. Lady Sylvia looks on in approval. In addition, there is a dream sequence in which James imagines Mary and Lady Sylvia as stewardesses fighting it out on an airplane while he, dressed as a pilot, is strapped to a seat, literally a captive audience to a sexy girl fight, which he finds quite arousing as symbolized by the erect pen he holds. Subtlety is not one of Russell’s virtues, but his sledgehammer obvious imagery is part of the film’s charm. While The Lair of the White Worm may never be ranked among his masterpieces, it is still my favorite film of Russell’s and the one I watch the most as I find it an endlessly entertaining experience.

SOURCES

The Lair of the White Worm Production Notes, 1988.

Further Reading:

Check out Sean Gill's fantastic take on the film over at his blog, Junta Juleil's Culture Shock. There's also a really excellent look at it over at The Film Connoisseur blog. And last, but not least, Kevin J. Olson took a look at the film over at his blog, Hugo Stiglitz Makes Movies blog.

Pacific Rim

It’s been five long years since Guillermo del Toro directed a film. It certainly hasn’t been from a lack of trying as he was all set to direct The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (2012) before legal studio wrangling prompted him to depart the production. Then, he came close to realizing his dream project, an adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft’s At the Mountains of Madness, but the studio balked at a big budget R-rated monster movie and that fell through. Frustrated, Del Toro jumped at the opportunity to direct Pacific Rim (2013), an epic science fiction film that he was already producing and co-writing with Travis Beacham (Clash of the Titans). The film fits rather nicely in Del Toro’s wheelhouse as it involves massive battles between giant monsters and human-operated robots.

Del Toro has always been fascinated by creatures, from the mutant insects in Mimic (1997) to the grotesque vampires in Blade II (2002) to the creature underworld in Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008). Pacific Rim allows him to pay tribute to the kaiju and mecha genres popularized in Japan that were spearheaded by Godzilla (1954). After the impersonal CGI workouts that characterized Michael Bay’s Transformers movies, the hope was that Del Toro could bring his own personal touch to the summer blockbuster.

A few years into the future and giant monsters known as Kaiju emerge from a portal located deep on the ocean floor and lay waste to cities all over the world. In response, many countries band together and create the Jaeger program, an army of enormous robots, or mecha, controlled by two human pilots, to combat these creatures. The pilots form a kind of Vulcan mind meld so that they are not just one with each other, but with the robot as well. This gives Del Toro the opportunity to hit it us up with one loving shot after another of these mecha, showing how they work in a way that tells us all we need to know in a few minutes.

The opening battle not only introduces us to how the mecha operate, but also to Raleigh Becket (Charlie Hunnam), a hotshot pilot and his equally brash older brother Yancy (Diego Klattenhoff). Of course, their cockiness proves to be their undoing and Yancy is killed in battle while Raleigh lives, wracked with guilt. With this opening battle, Del Toro does an excellent job of conveying the colossal scale of the robots and the monsters and what they can both do in a way that is never confusing.

He also personalizes the battle by showing how it affects the pilots. As the years pass and the war rages on, more Jaegers are destroyed and the program is to be phased out in a matter of months. The remaining ones are ordered to regroup in Hong Kong for a last stand. Raleigh has quit and becomes an anonymous welder working on a coastal defensive wall in Alaska when he is recruited back into the program by his former commanding officer Stacker Pentecost (Idris Elba). The introduction of the surviving Jaegers is robot porn for mecha fans with lingering, awe-inspiring shots of the architecture of each one.

There’s an amusing subplot involving Dr. Newton Geiszler (Charlie Day), a quirky, maverick scientist, pursuing a wild experiment that allows him to mind meld with the brain from one of the creatures, but a live one is hard to come by so he seeks out black marketeer of living Kaiju organs, Hannibal Chau (Ron Perlman) in the slums of Hong Kong. It’s a small role, but one that veteran Del Toro collaborator Ron Perlman makes the most of with his flashy attire and gruff attitude. The interplay between the grouchy cynicism of Hannibal and the frantic idealism of Dr. Geiszler is entertaining and provides some much needed levity. It is a lot of fun to see Ron Perlman and Charlie Day (It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia) banter back and forth, including a cool sequence where Hannibal’s crew travel through the insides of a defeated creature to find its secondary brain and stumble across something else.

Let’s face it; the characterization in Pacific Rim is pretty superficial with most of the pilots being interchangeable and their rivalry coming off as something right out of Top Gun (1986). At best, the dialogue is serviceable and many of the archetypal characters are rife with clichés as Raleigh is teamed-up with Mako Mori (Rinko Kikuchi), a rookie with no practical experience, but has a thirst for revenge, much like he does. Del Toro makes some attempts at characterization with Raleigh and Mako coming to grips with their respective demons over the course of the film, which is, to be honest, simply filler between impressively staged battle sequences. Only Idris Elba and Ron Perlman manage to make a distinctive impression with their respective characters, the latter rising above his character’s archetype through sheer force of will and attitude. Just look at the choices Perlman makes with wardrobe, how he speaks and how he carries himself to see how an actor can make something out of a minor role. However, we’re not watching Pacific Rim for characters’ soul-searching. We’re here to see giant robots beat the crap out of huge monsters, which this film delivers in a very satisfying way.

Some criticize the monsters in Pacific Rim as looking rather alike (reminiscent of the monster from Cloverfield) and not very distinctive, which is rather odd considering what a fan of monsters Del Toro is and what unique creatures he’s delivered in the past. I get the feeling that he was more interested in showing the diversity of the Jaegers – all of which have their own distinctive look and abilities. He lingers on them many times while the Kaiju are seen fleetingly during the day or slightly-obscured at night or deep under murky water. This may have been due to the budget limitations for the creature visual effects or that he simply wanted to put more emphasis on the mecha and the people that pilot them.

For anyone who grew up watching or is a fan of Godzilla vs. [insert name of monster], Pacific Rim is pure, unadulterated cinematic catnip. It is pretty cool to see robots and monsters duke it out, like a moment where one of the Jaegers uses a large freighter ship like a baseball bat, or when the same robot uses a giant sword to slice a Kaiju in half (in what seems like a visual nod to Voltron!). Unlike the Transformers movies, Pacific Rim has a lot of heart. It’s not afraid to embrace clichés, like the stirring call to battle speech, the maverick pilot with something to prove, and the scientist with a wild theory that just might help beat the monsters, and serve them up with a straight face. Del Toro does this lovingly as only a fan of kaiju movies could.

You really get the feeling that there is something at stake in the story depicted in Pacific Rim, that this isn’t just another CGI workout – all noise and fury signifying nothing. While this film may not be as artistically satisfying as The Devil’s Backbone (2001) or Pan’s Labyrinth (2006), it is wonderful to see Del Toro back in the director’s chair delivering the goods with a rousing and entertaining popcorn movie that reminds us of the unbridled glee we felt as children being transported to cinematic worlds populated by visually arresting special effects and heroic figures fighting to save the world.