The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2022: The Watcher in the Woods (1980), directed by John Hough

 

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: 'Somebody's Watching Me' by Rockwell

       The 1980’s are often romanticized, chiefly by weirdos, as a time that was great for business, but that wasn’t exactly the case for Disney. In fact most of the decade was sort of a crapshoot for them, exemplified by a string of middling attempts to move the needle at the box office. Tron, The Great Mouse Detective, The Black Cauldron, while some of these films over the years have gained a level of cult notoriety they certainly impress audiences at the time, especially when you had Don Bluth kicking around giving people films that had some metaphorical teeth without sacrificing the animation quality. It wasn’t until the tail end of the decade that The Mouse was able to right the ship, first with Who Framed Roger Rabbit? and then a year later with The Little Mermaid,  but it’s strange to consider a world where Disney is most associated with failures and missteps than with anything good. Well actually  it’s not, but I’m sure at the time Joe Public were like ‘wowee, good thing these guys don’t own my favorite film franchise and never will.’

       As I said though, several of these films that proved to be a bomb for Disney at the time have in recent years been looked upon with different eyes. Tron, for example, went from the poster child of Disney turds and ended up becoming a full-fledged franchise, albeit a minor one. So in the spirit of bringing things to light that Disney would rather forget I decided to grab a film from the peak of the Dark Ages and see how it plays. Live action too, so you know it’s going to go well.

       Released in 1980, The Watcher in the Woods was written by Brian Clemens, Harry Spalding and Rosemary Anne Sisson, directed by John Hough and Vincent McEveety and produced by Ron Miller through Walt Disney Productions, based on the novel “A Watcher in the Woods” by Florence Engel Randall. Lynn-Holly Johnson stars as Jan Curtis, who along with little sister Ellie (Kyle Richards), mother Helen (Carroll Baker) and father Paul (David McCallum) managed to snag themselves a secluded manor in the English countryside on the cheap from its owner and their neighbor Mrs. Aylwood (Bette Davis). There’s always gotta be a catch though, which Jan begins to experience immediately after entering the house. Strange lights, bizarre hallucinations, Ellie getting possessed, your typical crazy ghost shit. The common thread throughout these incidents however is Karen Aylwood, Mrs. Aylwood’s teenage daughter who disappeared thirty years ago under mysterious circumstances. What happened to Karen, and how does it tie into these supernatural events? The answers to those questions and some prime voyeurism await in The Watcher in the Woods.

       If the phrase ‘Disney made a horror film’ doesn’t fill you with confidence, I can hardly blame you. Disney has built their empire off of a dedication to family-friendly, culturally appropriated content, so attempting something different and interesting is bound to make them stumble. If you were to give them some credit however, it is that they found something that could conceivably fit within their wheelhouse. There are no monsters in The Watcher in the Woods, no psychopathic killers, simply some spooky happenings ala Amityville Horror and a POV tracking shot (reminiscent of Friday the 13th and Evil Dead) that implies some sort of malicious intelligence. Not enough to stir the loins of any serious gorehound out there, in fact the entire film is quite tame on the violence front, but the film does manage an eerie, alien atmosphere that a more direct film might not have kept up with in favor of explosive thrills. You’re not sure what the Watcher in the Woods is, and at the end of the film you’re still not sure, and that sort of faux-Lovecraftian ‘things beyond our mortal understanding’ comes off as fairly unique.

       As far as casting goes, it’s serviceable. It speaks to the state of Disney’s attempts at live action at this point that the film's biggest names, David McCallum, Carroll Baker and Bette Davis would have been good catches two decades before this movie was released, and naturally they’re barely in the thing. The rest of the cast do their job, and that’s about as much as I can say. I’ve definitely seen worse child acting in my day, and it’s a small cast so they likely had an easier time getting the performance the director wanted.

       If you’ve ever seen an episode of Rod Serling’s second show, Night Gallery, The Watcher in the Woods. Entertaining surely, but when comparing it to the stuff that came before there’s an aura of ‘cheapness’ that radiates from the thing. Like they found a mansion in the woods, great but they do 99 percent of the filming during the day so that it is as unscary as possible, and they don’t even bother making the forest seem scary outside of one scene that we never return to again. That, combined with the simplistic effects (hope you think blue flashes of light are scary), the loss of tension through lack of violence, the acting, the music (even thirty plus years ago slowed down children’s music feels cliche), it all combines into something that didn’t need to be a theatrical film, and indeed doesn’t even last the 90 minutes like its peers. Were this made 20 years later it would fit right in with the best of the Disney Channel Original Movies, but as is it sticks out, and not in the good way.

       Based on that description however, I’m going to give The Watcher in the Woods a mild recommendation. Sometimes you want to watch a horror movie but maybe you’ve got a kid in the house, or a partner who’s not good with the genre, or maybe you yourself aren’t the best with it but you want to get into it. That’s where The Watcher in the Woods comes in, as it’s the most mild of mild salsa type horror films that still has enough going for it to make it interesting. Outside of those circumstances however I don’t know if there’s much to entice a moviegoer beyond the novelty of a Disney horror, and the moviegoers of the time would seem to agree with me. There have definitely been worse movies to come out Disney’s mouse hole though, so if you’re interested go for it.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2021: The Elephant Man (1980), directed by David Lynch

 

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune - "Elephant Talk" by King Crimson

       Not everyone makes that jump from the minors to the major leagues. Josh Trank was an indie darling after the release of his film Chronicle, Disney was ready to give him one of the keys to the Star Wars castle, but then he took his first step out of the gate and he fell into a fantastic hole, gone forever until last year when he showed up with that Capone movie no one talks about. Contrast that with the Russo Brothers, directors of those paintball episodes on Community, and parlayed that into smacking life-size action figures around at Marvel. The movie business, like all businesses, is shitty and terrible, and to succeed in it depends a lot on how well you handle yourself under extreme pressure from the waves of bullshit. Trank couldn’t handle it and the Russos could, and we can see the results.

       Then we have David Lynch. When he released his directorial debut Eraserhead in 1977 it quickly became one of the most successful independent films in the country, and big studios came calling, and yet it doesn’t feel like he ever stopped making indie films. The budgets grew larger of course, the actors more prestigious, he even tried his hand at a franchise, but David Lynch’s films always felt like David Lynch. He stuck to his guns, made the films he wanted to make (besides Dune I guess) and now he’s regarded as one of the great talents in American cinema, so all you young directors keep a stiff upper lip or whatever. So with only a few movies left to go before this blog closes its book on this icon of moving pictures, this year the Marathon is going to shine the spotlight on David Lynch’s big break. The film that proved Eraserhead wasn’t just a flash in the pan but the harbinger of a great talent. It’s still got weird stuff though, because hey, studios aren’t going to take that much of a risk.

       Released in 1980, The Elephant Man was written by Christopher De Vore, Eric Bergen and David Lynch, directed by David Lynch and produced by Jonathan Sanger though Brooksfilms, based on “The Elephant Man and Other Reminiscences” by Frederick Treves and “The Elephant Man: A Study in Human Dignity” by Ashley Montagu. Anthony Hopkins plays Frederick Treves,, a young up-and-coming doctor taking in the local carnival when he comes across the greatest ‘freak’ of them all -- The Elephant Man, played by John Hurt, possessed of such serious physical deformities that it’s a miracle that he’s alive, as ironic as it might be to use that word in this case. Initially Treves is only interested in The Elephant Man, real name John Merrick, as a curiosity, something to trot out to his friends in the medical community as a example of how fucked up human anatomy can get, but as he spends time with Merrick he learns that this is not some abomination of nature, but a gentle, intelligent young man. Treves is touched by Merrick’s noble spirit, and as the story of the Elephant Man makes its way through the London media more people get to know John Merrick, and are changed in much the same way. Of course for all of those people who can see beyond Merrick’s appearance there are many who don’t, and they’ll do whatever it takes to see that last little spark of light within Merrick’s heart is snuffed out forever. Whether they will or not, however, remains to be seen.

       The Elephant Man occupies an interesting place in David Lynch’s development as a filmmaker. More strait-laced than Eraserhead before it, not as ‘compromised’ by outside voices as Dune supposedly was after it, Elephant Man is at this crossroads that ends up making it feel unique to the filmmaker’s canon. There are aspects of the film that are distinctly Lynchian; The editing on the dream sequences, there’s the repeated focus on industry, the use of overwhelming silence, all things that would return in later films, it feels less like a predecessor to Blue Velvet and more like a long-lost Universal Monster movie, with the unfortunate John Merrick feeling perfectly natural alongside Frankenstein’s Monster and the Phantom of the Opera. Which to me is a treat, as it’s not often that we Lynch be so straight-forward in his storytelling, and so when they do touch upon those more standard Lynchian moments they stand out all the more.

        It’s not often you see David Lynch doing period pieces either, although the steel-and-coal industrial hell that is Victorian London in this film is not far removed from the world of Eraserhead. We don’t get any big money scenic shots, in fact the film feels rather claustrophobic at times, but the scenes we do get are very well-crafted. It really does give the feeling of late 19th London, a character walks down a rain soaked street and you can almost smell the odor of human feces and rotting fish. The interiors look very good as well, sans Merrick’s bare bones room. Certainly an aspect of the film I wish we got even more of, but then I’ve always had a soft spot for that aesthetic.  

       Of course when you have a movie called The Elephant Man audiences expect an Elephant Man, and David Lynch and designer Christopher Tucker deliver on that. I mentioned the similarity between Merrick and the old Universal monsters, but John Hurt is transformed in a way that Boris Karloff and Lon Chaney never were, I honestly wouldn’t be able to tell you it’s him in the make-up if I didn’t know beforehand. As with Karloff before him though, it is really the strength of Hurt’s acting that brings this interpretation of John Merrick to life, drawing the audience in with only one eye and his voice. There’s also some great work here by Hannah Gordon (who plays Treves’ wife Ann), Freddie Jones (as the properly Lynchian freak show proprietor Mr. Bytes), and of course Anthony Hopkins as Fred Treves, but it is principally Hurt’s game to win, and he nails it.

       If there is a problem with the film then, it’s one of momentum. While the basic idea of Merrick going from being regarded as a subhuman creature to being favored by the Queen and all is solid, there’s no real drive to it. Merrick is understandably a passive character, so things just sort of happen around him.which ends up feeling like you’re waiting around for things to resolve themselves. The greatest source of drama in this drama film comes from Mr. Bytes, which ties into a subplot with the night guardsman of the hospital that the film largely takes place in, but even that seems to be over as soon as it begins. There’s not much in the way of character development beyond Merrick either; Plenty of characters go from hating Merrick to liking him, but the only one to be given significant focus is Treves, who is conflicted over his friendship with Merrick and his nagging doubts that he isn’t any different than Bytes in the end. Except that doesn’t really go anywhere? He’s upset over it in one scene but then never brings it up again, and he never really acts any different. The film makes a big deal about this mirroring the actual events of Merrick’s life and that’s fine, there’s no need to invent a love interest for the Elephant Man or something like that, but it does have this sedate quality that demands you fall into its pace more so than other drama films. Even other dramas by Lynch in this case, as The Straight Story has a similar energy level and yet because the film is predicated on the journey the audience doesn’t feel like it’s just waiting around for something to happen.

       That being said, I’m giving The Elephant Man the recommendation. It’s not the film I would choose to showcase David Lynch the auteur, but it’s a solid film and the performances, the make-up design, the cinematography, the music are all good. Moreover it’s a significant film, one that shows that Eraserhead wasn’t a fluke and that David Lynch was a director to watch out for, as long as he was given the tools and the opportunity to succeed. So if you’re in a chill mood this Halloween, maybe up for a good cry, or if you’re actually Karl Pilkington, you should pop in The Elephant Man and see how the night goes. You just might enjoy yourself.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2019: Nightmare City (1980), directed by Umberto Lenzi

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "City of the Walking Dead", by Black Hyenas

Second verse, same as the first.

Of all the monsters in movie history, none have become so tired and dull as the zombie. What things it was good for, social commentary, gorey special effects, have been done and what we’re left with is piles upon piles of cheaply made garbage that exists as nothing more than pornography that the folks from Doomsday Bunker use to satisfy their apocalypse fetish. If you’ve ever wondered why the Marathon hasn’t covered that many zombie movies over the years, that’s the reason why. Trash media that isn’t able to consistently elevate itself beyond that.

Today’s contestant that’s trying to prove the exception to the rule is Umberto Lenzi’s Nightmare City, or City of the Walking Dead as it was known in the US three years later. The film stars Hugo Stiglitz as Miller, a television reporter who is set to do a PR piece for a visiting professor investigating a radioactive leak at a nearby nuclear power plant, when a unidentified aircraft releases a plague of ghouls upon the city. Human in form, intelligent enough to operate machinery and firearms, but single-mindedly violent and with a hunger for blood. Which is enough for him to want to get out of dodge, but travel plans tend to go a little wonky when you’re in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. Or at least a bloodthirsty radioactive humanoid monster apocalypse, which is close enough.

While Nightmare City’s take on the zombie feels relatively unique, reminiscent of the brain-eaters of Return of the Living Dead, that’s about where my interest ends. The special effects are obviously not on the same level, and attempts at replicating the atmosphere of apocalyptic chaos and existential terror of something like Day of the Dead falls flat as there’s no strong character-driven moments to drive it. There’s Miller of course, but he doesn’t really have anything resembling an arc, and all the other characters we happen to follow are irrelevant to the story. So what we’re left with is about 90 minutes or so of zombies killing nameless people, people with names talking about things that lead nowhere with the occasional tit shot and I absolutely cannot care about any of it. A feeling that is only compounded with the big reveal at the end, which I won’t spoil, but will say is about as satisfying as being locked in an airtight room with a flatulent steer.

Which is why this review is so short and why, quote unquote regrettably, I can’t recommend Nightmare City. Those interested in the idea of Italian zombie movies will be better off looking into the work of Lucio Fulci, in particular his film Zombi 2, otherwise known as Zombie, Zombie Flesh Eaters or Island of the Living Dead. In terms of story and special effects that might just be the film for you this Halloween.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2019: Without Warning (1980), directed by Greydon Clark

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "Without Warning/Tooth and Nail", by Dokken

       Of all the franchises that came screaming out of the womb that was the 1980’s, few are as beloved as Predator. Released in 1987 and directed by future Last Action Hero director John McTiernan, the original film told the story of a paramilitary death squad lead by ‘Dutch’ Schaefer engaged in shady and likely illegal activities in South America, who are stalked and killed by a mysterious and often invisible alien hunter that would eventually become known as a Predator. The film was a success, I think in large part due to it starring Arnold ‘biggest action star in the world’ Schwarzenegger and his glistening biceps, and so the legion of spin off material was unleashed upon the world. Comic books, video games and of course film sequels, including two crossovers with the Alien franchise. Not that any of it is all that good, even though I kind of liked Predator 2, but like many of the famous movie monsters of old it has mastered the art of coasting forever off of the strength of one film. I say famous, but really it’s any and all movie monsters that studios think will get them even one more dollar than they might have otherwise. Just look at the 7 Evil Bong movies.

Almost a decade before Predator, there was a film by the name of Without Warning which, perhaps not surprisingly, was also about a mysterious and often invisible alien who hunted humans. Directed by Greydon Clark and starring America’s favorite beef roast Jack Palance as Taylor the hunter/gas station and Martin Landau as psycho Vietnam vet Dobbs, Without Warning handles the premise in a more standard, slasher movie sort of way: A group of teenagers, looking to ignore obvious warning signs and have premarital sex, journey into a tiny backwoods town on a road trip and end up being hunted down by the aforementioned alien hunter. In the meantime we get to see a couple other deaths, and of course the girl who doesn’t have sex is allowed to live. If you’ve seen Friday the 13th or about a hundred other entries in the B-movie schlock genre.

Unlike Friday the 13th however, Without Warning has enough issues that I don’t believe it quite manages to rise above its lack of budget, cinematically speaking. The first 40 minutes of the film seems to take place in the same 25 feet of ugly what-I-presume-to-be marshland, and the rest of the locations are so far removed from context it’s hard to really tell where anything is in relation to each other. The acting aside from Palance and Landau is average at best and even then it feels like the two are trying to one-up each other in the crazy department. That, combined with some uneven audio quality and a plot that doesn’t want to leave the runway, makes that 40 minutes a pretty rough watch.

I will say that the ultimate reveal of the alien is probably the best scene of the film, almost Lynchian in a way, and director Greydon Clark makes the correct choice of only barely hinting at the alien’s true identity through shadows and lingering camera angles. How the alien kills his victims however, with little bloodsucking starfish-like creatures that spin through the air like frisbees, is ridiculous almost to the point of parody, and the fact that this is what we see for the majority of the film places it more in the league of something like Slugs or Frogs rather than Predator. They try to compensate for that by throwing in some POV shots, as if the alien is stalking its victims, but they can’t even keep that consistent. Hell, the first two of those POV shots are practically the same fucking bit of footage, neither of which feel like a hunter sneaking up on their prey but more like some B-roll they had lying around in case they needed to pad out the run time. Look at the first Friday the 13th, hell look at the Evil Dead films, and then try to look at this with a straight face. Won’t be easy, let me tell you.

Without Warning isn’t a bad film, and the folks of Fangoria magazine at the time certainly seemed taken with it, but with the benefit of hindsight it’s neither good nor bad enough to be truly memorable. The adventurous sci-fi/horror fans with a lot of free time on their hands out there might be intrigued enough at the idea of a proto-Predator movie to hunt it down, but everyone else will probably be fine just sticking with Predator. At least until they finally make that Archie vs. Predator movie we’ve all been asking for.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2017 - Forbidden Zone (1980), directed by Richard Elfman

The Trailer
and
The Appropriate Tune: "Forbidden Zone", by Oingo Boingo

     As a young, disaffected child, riddled with neuroses and personality disorders, it should come as no surprise that I was drawn to the darkly comical, slightly morbid and otherwise gothic (as in the post-punk subculture and not the East Germanic tribes) films of Tim Burton. I was a weirdo who liked weird stuff, something that’s become even more true with age, and so I consumed movie and movie with reckless abandon like some great and terrible beast. Which is the best way to appreciate the works of Tim Burton, in my opinion; Quickly, deeply, and at a young enough age that it doesn’t register in your mind that the man is a magician with one trick. In some cases (looking at you Dark Shadows), it might be the only way.

     A lot of the enjoyment that I get from those early Burton years has a lot to do with the music of those films, and in particular the work of composer Danny Elfman. Whether it’s Beetlejuice, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Batman (still the iconic theme for the character, in my opinion), his work has this dynamic, vital energy that never fails to get me into a good mood. You know it’s a Danny Elfman joint the second you hear it (it’s probably the one that sounds like a bottom-heavy Chernobog polka), and that’s something of a rare thing in these modern times. Of course most of the movies I watch are about 30 years old minimum, so the relative diversity and quality of modern film soundtracks might be lost on me. Maybe.

     Fury Road was pretty good though.

     It was a few years later that I learned that Mr. Elfman had actually got his start in a band, Oingo Boingo, originally known as The Mystical Knights of Oingo Boingo and later known simply as Boingo. Born from the glam/art rock scene that was raging in Los Angeles in the early 70s, Oingo Boingo went from a staple figure in the local concert scene into a fully-fledged album releasing band of the 80s new wave. They put out a decent string of albums in that era, including my personal favorite, 1985’s Dead Man’s Party, which featured the title track of the popular sci-fi comedy Weird Science, but shifting musical tastes and Elfman’s other priorities led them to call it quits in the early 90’s. Not a bad run for a band that was likely cursed with the ‘One Hit Wonder’ label at some point, all things considered. Only A Lad is a pretty good song too.

     It was a few years after I discovered Danny Elfman had a band that I learned that he had been in films, specifically Forbidden Zone, released in 1980. Directed by Richard Elfman, Danny’s brother and founder of the group, co-written by Matthew Bright (another member of the band) and starring several other bandmates, Forbidden Zone not only served as a replication of the unique experience the band brought to its live shows, but as a love letter to that era of the band’s history. Around the time of FZ’s release, Richard would quit the group permanently to focus on filmmaking, the Mystic Knights of the Oingo Boingo would shorten its name to the still unique but easier to remember Oingo Boingo, and their bizarre, cabaret on LSD vision would get passed through the filter of new wave as it made its way onto record store shelves and MTV screens. The last bow, you could say, as one chapter of the band closes and a new one begins. Very dramatic, believe me.

     Anyway, the story of Forbidden Zone revolves around the Hercules family: The Swedish Jed Clampett-looking Pa, the overburdened Ma, precocious son Flash, absentminded Gramps, and “Frenchy” (played by Marie-Pascale Elfman), the beautiful and demure daughter. The Hercules are your typical American family, living the typical American dream in your typical American town, who just so happen to have a portal to the 6th dimension in their basement. The 6th dimension, referred to as the Forbidden Zone, is a place of madness, rampant nudity and overt BDSM, populated by deviants and frogs of variable shapes and sizes and ruled over by the French nationalist King Fausto (Fantasy Island manservant Hervè Villechaize) and the megalomaniacal dominatrix Queen Doris (Susan Tyrell). In an act of youthful rebellion, and to help school nerd/outcast Squeezit’s transgender sister Renè (not as progressive as it sounds), Frenchy decides to enter the Forbidden Zone, and almost immediately becomes entangled in the chaotic mess that is interdimensional politics. It’s up to Flash, Gramps and Squeezit to brave the perils of the Forbidden Zone and the menacing Queen Doris and somehow rescue Frenchy, all the while singing cabaret songs and making raunchy sex jokes.

     Given how much the band is involved with this movie, it should come as no surprise that a significant portion of the movie is centered around music, a couple by the band itself (the theme song to this movie would later be reworked by Elfman into the theme song for the Dilbert animated series) and more than couple interpretations of popular cabaret songs. These songs are far and above the highlight of the movie, each one featuring a level of choreography and performance that you’d expect from such a theatrically-minded group. If I had to choose just one, I’d have to go with Danny Elfman’s far too short cameo as Satan, as he serenades Squeezit with a rendition of Minnie the Moocher. It’s almost a throwaway scene, having very little to do with anything before or after it in the movie, but Danny gives such a delightfully sinister showing as the Prince of Darkness, possibly foreshadowing the macabre direction his music would take years later, that it hardly matters.

     Therein lies the major issue with Forbidden Zone, which is the same issue that Frank Zappa’s 200 Motels, The Who’s Tommy, and the rest of these rock ‘n’ roll type movies: In order to get to the entertaining parts (i.e. the music), you have to sit through a bunch of crap (i.e. the actual movie). In that way Forbidden Zone has vastly outpaced its competitors, as it’s been a long time since I’ve sat through such an astoundingly shitty movie for so little payoff. Not since the days of Flesh for Frankenstein (not officially reviewed, but it’s an addendum on one of the lists) and The Seduction of Dr. Fugazzi have I been so thoroughly unimpressed by a movie, a feat which I thought and hoped would never be equaled. Coffee & Cigarettes had a more compelling narrative, and the original Mad Max thrilled me more than this flick. It’s that dull folks.

     Perhaps it’s a question of demographics. I, as a modern kind of guy, have been immersed in wild & crazy stuff since I was a kid. I watched Nightmare Before Christmas enough times to memorize the songs, I perused Newgrounds back when celebrity torture porn videos were all the rage, I read Grant Morrison’s Doom Patrol and Alan Moore’s League of Extraordinary Gentlemen like a bible, and every night shows like Aqua Teen Hunger Force and South Park lit up my television screen. So when I watch Forbidden Zone and a walking African-American stereotype in blackface waltzes on screen, it is any wonder that I roll my eyes? When it throws out racist jokes, homophobic jokes, misogynist jokes, rape jokes and other such things like a 14 year old with Tourette’s during his first Overwatch stream, is it all that surprising that I’m bored to tears? Nothing in this movie is really shocking anymore, I’m not sure it was ever funny, so why should I care? It’s weird and low budget and all that, yeah, which is enough to give anything at least a moderate cult following, but there has to be some element of goodness in there to counteract the flaws, so you have something to celebrate. The Rocky Horror Picture Show is weird, but it has amazing music, great set pieces, and Tim Curry in fishnets. Buckaroo Banzai is weird, but the world it creates is so vibrant and unique that you don’t want to leave. Young Einstein is weird, but it’s bizarre Aussiefied version of history and steampunk-inspired technology sets it apart from its peers. Forbidden Zone is weird, but it’s so busy trying to be edgy and cool that it never stops to consider that maybe it’s had its head up its own ass for so long that it can’t tell shit from maize. With a proper cult movie, I should be lamenting the fact that the general public overlooked this hidden gem, not wondering what the general public got right after all these years.

     Obviously that’s just one king’s opinion though, and you’re free to watch to Forbidden Zone at your own discretion. There’s certainly some degree of enjoyment there, in the music interludes, and a good deal of animation that I hadn’t mentioned before, but it’s up to you whether you want to invest that time into it or not. If you’re just looking for a weird movie to watch this Halloween though, just something ‘far out’ to share with your pals down at the sock hop, there are plenty of other, more exciting fish in the sea.

     Might I suggest the works of Tim Burton?

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2016: Flash Gordon (1980), directed by Mike Hodges

The Trailer
and
The Appropriate Tune: "Flash", by Queen

     You know, in this age of cinematic universes and shameless rehashes, it’s a bit surprising that we haven’t much attention paid to the ‘pre-hero’ age of American pop culture in these modern times. To be specific, those properties that managed to carve out their own following in pulp novels, radio shows, film serials and what not before the march of progress and the rise of comic books ultimately led to their downfall. You’d think that now that time has passed, and most of the original audience for these things have all died off that it would be a perfect time for Hollywood to some exploiting, but so far it’s been pretty quiet on that front. In fact, I don’t think they’ve really bothered to try and do a pre-comic movie since the early 90s, aside from the attempts at Tarzan. Come on guys, where’s that desperate greed that got us a Robocop movie we never wanted, a Total Recall we’ve already forgotten and a Ghostbusters that’s already reviled, you’re telling me you can’t squeeze out a few more shekels from characters almost a century old? You made Sherlock Holmes into an action star, I’m pretty sure you can pull off Mandrake the Magician.

     I say this, but already they’re planning to turn Doc Savage into a vehicle for Dwayne Johnson, and there’s supposedly a new Tarzan that’s meant to come out at some point. The point was the general attitude of ‘let sleeping dogs lie’ seemed incredibly off-putting, considering the state of the movie industry these days.

     Anyway, like I said, there have been a few attempts at bringing old school characters to the silver screen, with mixed results. There was the Doc Savage movie back in the 70s, which is mostly known for being either shit or forgettable. There was The Shadow, starring Alec Baldwin, the foppish playboy of the Baldwin family. The Phantom, starring Billy Zane, which threatened to undo all the work Prince did for the color purple. Not to mention the pulp inspired movies like Buckaroo Banzai and The Rocketeer, both of which featured in previous Marathons for those interested. The sad truth of it is however, is that very few of these films really ‘got’ it, if you know what I mean. Never really captured the magic of the character, never quite able to replicate the feeling that drove that surge of popularity in the first place. Except one, and he just so happens to be the saviour of the universe.

     Flash Gordon, star player of the New York Jets, and Dale Arden, amateur damsel in distress, are taking an airplane ride when the world suddenly starts coming to an end. Earthquakes, unexpected eclipses, whatever the hell ‘hot hail’ is supposed to be, it’s all happening and no one knows what’s causing it. No one but Hans Zarkov, a disgraced former NASA, who knows exactly what’s going on: Something has caused the moon to move out of orbit, and if we don’t manage to move it back, it’s going to crash into the Earth in about 2 weeks. So because there’s no time to waste, Zarkov forces Dale and Flash (who managed to crash land their plane conveniently near Zarkov’s lab) into his homemade rocket and blast off into the great wide open to save the planet. I’m not sure blasting off into a rocket with no clear idea of where you’re going and with no supplies is a bit foolhardy but hey, it was the 80s.

     Anyway, the rocket ends up going through a wormhole and eventually ends up in the fantastical world of Mongo, composed of dozens of fantastical floating worlds and equally strange humanoid beings. Hawk Men and Lizard Men and Tree Dudes and weird colorful dwarves, it’s basically ComiCon with less cosplaying. Which would be cool, except Mongo is ruled over by the appropriately named Ming the Merciless, and it is by his hand that the Earth is facing imminent destruction. Ming doesn’t give two shits about Earth or the people who live on it, but he is interested in Dale, and he wouldn’t mind having Flash dead on top of that. Somehow, some way, the world’s most heroic football player must traverse this alien world, rescue his friends and his planet, and defeat Ming and his evil empire all within the span of 14 days. Shouldn’t be too difficult, right?

     Might as well point this out first, since it’s probably more well-known than the actual movie. Yes, Queen does the soundtrack for the film, although the orchestral scores are by someone else. However, there are only a few moments I can think of where the music you’re hearing is straight up Freddie Mercury and the guys rocking out. Other than that it’s mostly some synth tones, and maybe a reprise of the Flash theme. It’s certainly not bad, it’s appropriate to the tone of the film, but I figured that I’d throw that out there in case anyone was going in thinking it was 111 minutes of Bohemian Rhapsody.

     What is it about Flash Gordon that works, compared to other pulp hero films or even superhero films? Well, the extravagant special effects are definitely a plus; everything is colorful and all the kingdoms are visually distinct with a generous helping of art deco, and I’m no less a fan of streamlines and strong angles than I was before. The cast is also pretty fun. Max von Sydow, Brian Blessed, Timothy Dalton, the only real weak link in the whole thing is probably Sam Jones, who puts on a rather mild performance as our hero Flash Gordon. It kind of works in a weird way though, at least it was never distracting enough that I lost interest in the film. Simple acting that reflects a simpler time, when a protagonist did heroic stuff because he was a hero and no one really pushed for pulps and comic strips to go any deeper than that. I don’t know if that was the intent, but it makes sense.

     So again, what is it about Flash Gordon that makes it work, while other films of the same ilk stumble? If I had to explain it, I guess I would say because it manages to present the concept of Flash Gordon about as purely as possible, no unnecessary changes made because the audience might not ‘get it’, while also having some fun doing it. I don’t think anyone is going to deny that Flash Gordon is an inherently silly concept, least of all the people that made this movie, but that doesn’t keep them from making an entertaining movie. In a lot of cases like this, people either tend to push for serious (for fear that people will make fun of them) or irreverent (for fear that people will make fun of them for being too serious), and it ends up negatively affecting the movie. Flash Gordon isn’t about ‘gritty reimaginings’ and it isn’t about mocking its roots. It’s a celebration, not only of Flash Gordon but of an era when the world still had some things left to explore. Maybe there could be ancient underground civilizations, maybe there are entire races of people living on Saturn, maybe the future really will be a utopia of flying cars and dome cities. It’s pure, idealized escapism, and isn’t that what all these comic books and pulp novels are about? To step outside the dreary boundaries of real life into a realm of infinite possibilities and wonder, in the hopes that you’ll forget about that boring mundane world for just a little while? Maybe someone should have told Zack Snyder that before WB gave him a billion dollars.

     Anyway, it’s a good movie. Perhaps the most entertaining film of the Marathon so far, for what that’s worth. So take that recommendation and do what you want with it this Halloween. As for me, I’ll be busy exploring the possibility of Hawk Women.