THE SHADOW RETURNS, BEHIND THE MASK, THE MISSING LADY (1946)

 




PHENOMENALITY: *uncanny*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *comedy*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *sociological*


Of all the masked avengers to spring from the pulps, the Shadow would seem to be the least promising to be reworked into comedic terms. However, these three Monogram B-films are at least much livelier than the two dull B's produced by Grand National in the late 1930s.

The films are almost certainly modeled on the light-hearted adventures of Nick and Nora Charles, with Lamont Cranston as a young man-about-town (and nephew of the police commissioner!) as Nick and his fiancee Margo Lane as Nora. To be sure, whereas the THIN MAN flicks mastered a sort of effortless joie de vivre, the writers of these ersatz SHADOW films force in so much allegedly clever dialogue that the viewer is practically drowning in bon mots. To make things more complicated, the crimefighter's faithful taxi-driver Shrevvy has his own girlfriend Jenny who follows him around-- and both girls are perpetually suspicious that their guys are using crimefighting as an excuse to gad about.

The devoted Shadow-phile will never hear a word spoken as to why bon vivant Cranston has assumed the masked identity of the Shadow. Despite the fact that the radio serial had become successful by 1946, there's no indication that this avenger has to "power to cloud men's minds," though he does seem to be able to project his shadow into unlikely lighted spaces. Otherwise, he's just a guy wielding guns and wearing a mask and dark topcoat. To be sure, the various directors of these flicks must've wanted to give Shadow-fans a little action, for Cranston, as played by serial star Kane Richmond, does get into a few fights, rather than just threatening people with his dark presence.

In all three films, Cranston and his entourage seek to solve some mystery, usually involving some "macguffin" or other. In SHADOW RETURNS, there's a formula for a radical new plastic at stake, though this object gets far less attention than Margo's latest jealousy over her beau, or her pique when she can't get him across the altar. Phil Rosen directed with uncredited assistance from William Beaudine.



BEHIND THE MASK is, if anything, even sillier. A villain poses as the Shadow and forces the hero to clear his name, but this takes a back seat to such scenes as Margo posing as the Shadow, even though she's wearing Cranston's outfit and said outfit does not even slightly fit. Again Beaudine worked on the film, though the director of record is Phil Karlson.



In one respect THE MISSING LADY is the most interesting of the trio, and not because of the "lady" of the title, a MacGuffin in the form of a jade statue. In MASK Karlson sedulously followed the daffy comedic model provided by the first film, and the script for LADY does include some goofy stuff, like a pair of old biddies who like to race with their apartment building's elevators. But there are some gloomy, seedy crime-scenes-- particularly at the opening-- that look forward to Karlson's serious crime-films of the early fifties, such as 99 RIVER STREET and THE PHENIX CITY STORY. Sad to say, Karlson's last films included a return to daffiness in the form of the "Matt Helm" film series.


DEATH RACE: BEYOND ANARCHY (2018)

 





PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *sociological*

It is devoutly to be hoped that this is the last of the DEATH RACE series. I've certainly seen worse serials, but from the first in the series, the franchise, as re-invented for the 21st century, has remained resolutely formulaic.

BEYOND ANARCHY takes place some time after the 2008 DEATH RACE, making this the only direct sequel. The 2008 sequel focused on the prison's attempt to make "new fish" Jensen Ames assume the identity of the once-popular racer Frankenstein. One presumes that even after the demise of the 2008 villains, someone else picked up the gauntlet and eventually enlisted someone to take over the role. In fact, the new Frankenstein is so successful that he becomes the de facto ruler of "The Sprawl," a subculture that has grown out of the prison community. Indeed, there are only occasional scenes of oversight of the Sprawl by prison authorities. The Sprawl is actually closer in concept to the aforementioned film TERMINAL ISLAND, in which convicts are turned loose on a remote island to sort out their own affairs.

Frankenstein isn't the hero this time, though. Another new fish, Connor Gibson (Zack McGowan, a dead ringer for Keanu Reeves), is enlisted by the warden to challenge the power of Frankenstein so that the prison can bring the cons back into line. Danny Trejo reprises his role from the other films to serve in Gibson's pit crew, while Danny Glover signs on in a related support-role. Gibson and Frankenstein exchange bon mots about their destined encounter, and despite all the distractions Gibson finds time to romance a local girl from the Sprawl.

There are enough fights and fast-cars to keep one engaged on the purely kinetic level, and a few of the lines are at least passable "tough guy" dialogue. But I don't think the returns can diminish much more than this before descending into total incoherence, and so ANARCHY seems like an ideal place to park this particular vehicle for good.



THE MYSTERY OF MAMO (1978)

 


 





PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *good*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *comedy*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *cosmological, psychological, sociological*

The first LUPIN III animated movie barely has the lovable criminals indulging in crime at all, as they get caught up in the business of thwarting a mad world-conqueror. That said, MYSTERY OF MAMO is still predominantly a comedy, always on the lookout to inject slapstick and wild chases into the business of madman-foiling.

Fittingly for the first cartoon-movie, the script also stresses the "eternal triangle" between Lupin III, his two allies-in-thievery Jigen and Goemon, and temptress Fujiko Mine. Lupin, Jigen and Goemon are like a three-man Beatles of Crime, and Fujiko is Yoko Ono, constantly playing on Lupin's desire for her and messing up the well-planned plots of the master thieves. I'm not a Lupin expert, but by the time of this movie I would imagine that this trope had become well-established in the comics and TV shows. Unlike Yoko Ono, Fujiko never quite manages to sunder the bonds of guy-loyalty, and since the main characters never age, Lupin never really has to make a final choice between adventure with his buddies and commitment to the love of his life.

Mamo, the aforementioned madman, attempts to expand the triangle into a quadrangle, at least temporarily. The tangled plot is hard to unravel-- it begins with an exact duplicate of Lupin being executed for his crimes, and only much later is it revealed that this was a clone produced by Mamo's super-science. Mamo also contracts with Fujiko to use her wiles on the real Lupin to get him to steal the Philosopher's Stone for its power to give immortality. Fujiko goes along with the scheme not just for her usual motive of crossing up Lupin, but because Mamo has promised her an immortal existence and she apparently hopes to get Lupin to "commit" to her for all time. (Certainly neither Jigen nor Goemon is invited to join their leader in this artificial paradise.) Mamo allows Fujiko to think this is a possibility, but his true plan is to eradicate the population of Earth with nuclear warfare and then to repopulate the world with the spawn of Fujiko and himself.

Mamo is, like a lot of world-beaters, an ugly little shrimp (visually based in part on singer-actor Paul Williams). Thus he's the opposite of the Man Who Can't Be Tied Down; he's the Man Who Wants the Woman Tied Down-- though at least he's faithful in his fashion, not alluding to any other paramours. Mamo's backstory is very confusing in that he claims to have lived for thousands of years, collecting real celebrities as different as Lao-Tse and Hitler for his private menagerie-- though, given his mastery of cloning, the prizes in Mamo's collection could be clones of the originals. He controls such fantastic super-science that a clever thief and his gang shouldn't be able to oppose him. But Lupin, called an "idiot savant" in one English translation, has the advantage of not knowing any better.

In contrast to some of the later "neutered" Lupin projects, the master thief's lubricity is on full display here, and he has many funny moments pursuing Fujiko, who knows how to push his buttons and then leave him hanging. The relentless cop Zenigata has a lot of strong moments here as well. At one point, he's told to lay off chasing Lupin and to take early retirement, at least partly because the police aren't sure whether or not the original Lupin may have been executed. But Zenigata replies that as long as one Lupin exists, it remains the driving force of the cop's life to bring him to justice someday. His obsession for the law is just as meaningful, and just as funny, as the "will-they-won't-they" dance between Lupin and Fujiko. Jigen and Goemon have less to do as the hero's boon companions disgusted by his unprofessionalism, but they have their dedicated moments.



The only real debit of MYSTERY OF MAMO is the design for Fujiko. I don't know how she'd been depicted in the TV animation up until 1978, but come on, guys-- that's not the face of a really sexy woman!

ADDENDA: I should note that the translation I saw is also very unflattering to the Americans involved in fighting Mamo, though they're represented by just one obnoxious FBI guy.



PRINCESS WARRIOR (1989)

 







PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *comedy*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *sociological*


While PRINCESS WARRIOR is an unremarkable junk-film-- shot on limited locations with very limited funds, by people who never became well-known in the movie industry-- it does offer me the chance to talk about the criteria I use to designate an adventure-filled comedy from an adventure with comic elements.

I subscribe to the theory that comedy's appeal is that of "incongruity," as suggested by the philosopher Schopenhauer. Most of the time, comedies use either verbal wordplay or slapstick violence to engender a sense of an incongruous world. However, some stories with adventure-elements invoke the ludicrous just by the dominant look of the characters. Japan's gentleman-thief Lupin III oscillates between comic absurdities and straightforward daredevil action, but Lupin himself, with his angular body and monkey-like face, always evokes the ludicrous. Same thing with the DC comic book CAPTAIN CARROT, which hardly ever includes a real joke or a pratfall, but features a bunch of funny-animal superheroes fighting funny-animal villains.

And what's the dominant image of the kickass heroine of PRINCESS WARRIOR, who can clobber grown men with a few choice blows? Well, she spends most of the film clad in a wet T-shirt that reads "Better When Wet." From that image alone, I think her place in the annals of ludicrous cinema is secure. Of course, it also helps that her proper name is Ovule, which word means "an unfertilized ovum," while her main opponent, Curette, is named after a small knife used in biopsies. Oh, and other characters have names like Exzema, Bulemia, and Ricketsia.

The nub of the conflict between Ovule (Sharon Lee Jones) and Curette (Dana Fredsti) is played fairly straight, though, aside from the Ed Wood look of their alien homeworld. Ovule and Curette are sisters who stand to inherit the rulership of their planet when their ailing mother kicks the bucket. Since Curette is a cruel bitch whose every word sounds like she's auditioning for the part of Joan Crawford in a MOMMIE DEAREST revival, the current queen gives the much nicer Ovule the nod. I'm not sure if the Queen Mother passes away just then, but Curette, who has a gang of henchwomen, immediately decides that Ovule's got to die. Having no other recourse, Ovule uses a teleport device to hurl herself to another planet, which just happens to be 1989 Earth. Nothing daunted, Curette, Exzema and Bulemia use the same device to follow. The teleport-device must have been made by the same inventors as those that made the Terminator's time-portal, since the ladies all have to travel naked (which provides the film's only moments of live nude girls).

By the way, did I mention that the unnamed world is a matriarchy, in which all the residents seem to be hot young women? Even the Queen Mother, who's a little older, is a glamourpuss. Not till the film's end is it mentioned that there are men on the planet, but they're slaves of their feminine overlords.

Anyway, naked Ovule happens to manifest near a club holding a wet T-shirt contest, so the exiled princess snags a spare shirt and tries to take her leave. She gets pulled into the contest (which takes up a fair amount of time-- not complaining, though). Ovule clouts a grabby promoter and escapes. The club's deejay Bob takes a shine to the comely blonde and goes after her, eventually offering her a place to stay. For some reason Ovule won't consider Bob's offer, but she will flag down a passing automobile and appeal to an equally unknown (and not good looking) stranger for shelter. The latter guy tries to take Ovule to his place. Bob interferes and gets punched out, after which Ovule clobbers the clobberer. Did she have to see Bob play Galahad before trusting him? Maybe, since she does go with him.

Curette and her followers wind up at the club, and in the best Arnie S. fashion they beat up some locals and take their clothes. They learn from the promoter that Bob took Ovule to his place, and to save his own skin the sleaze guides the alien amazons to Bob's address. Curette thinks that Ovule and Bob are lovers and decides to torture Ovule mentally before killing her. In this lightweight flick's only gruesome moment, Curette orders a henchwoman to heat up a metal spoon, promising to stick it right in poor Bob's mouth. 

Up to this point, the film, while stupid, has at least been energetic. Bob is then saved when a couple of largely incompetent cops barge in and try to arrest everyone. Bob and Ovule escape, and the cops, instead of turning in their other prisoners to other cops, drive around with Curette and her minions in the back of the patrol car. I'd cut the filmmakers a tiny bit of slack here, though, because if Curette and company were taken to a precinct, that would be the end of the conflict. But there's no excuse for all the tedious chase-scenes that serve to pad the running time. Prior to the climax of the film, the only points of interest is that when Ovule explains her alien origins to Bob, he thinks she's nuts and tries to get her mental help, only to end up escaping with her again. At one point, the betrayed Ovule reveals her priorities re: good slave-keeping by uttering the deahtless line, "If I weren't so tired I would beat you." Nevertheless, all the fighting and running may have an effect on her adrenaline, since she finally makes love to her Galahad. At the conclusion the film ramps up its energy slightly when Ovule and Curette square off and have a fistfight in an abandoned warehouse. After the heroine wins, her allies from the homeworld send her a teleport-device, and she persuades Bob to be her co-ruler. Oh, and she promises to do away with slavery as soon as they get back, just to ensure a happy ending. 

As a last touch of not-funny comedy, the producers imitated a schtick from MST3K-- which had premiered three years previous-- in that at the very end of the credit sequence, a line of dialogue from the film is replayed.

INU-YASHA: AFFECTIONS TOUCHING ACROSS TIME (2001)

 






PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical*


I've already provided a summary of the INU-YASHA manga series in this post, chronicling how the titular half-demon joins with modern-day high-school girl Kagome Higruashi to track down magical jewel shards during Japan's feudal era. Since no one's likely to ever watch any of the anime movies without first becoming familiar into some version of the episodic series, I won't repeat what I wrote earlier, though I'll add that early in the series the demon-boy and the modern girl are joined in their quest by three other questers: the priest Miroku, the demon-slayer Sango, and demon-kid Shippo (who supplies much of the comedy relief). The first movie, AFFECTIONS for short, also works in such semi-regular characters as Inu-Yasha's brother Sesshomaru and the undead priestess Kikyo. The latter supplies a romantic threat to the prickly boy-girl interactions of Kagoma and her "demon lover."

The villain of AFFECTIONS is new though: a Mongolian moth-demon named Menomaru. This new foe and his henchwomen kidnap Kagome and brainwash Sango's pet Kirara as part of a plan to steal Inu-Yasha's magic sword. Long ago, Inu-Yasha's demon-father (deceased during the series) sealed the father of Menomaru into a crypt, and by using the sword, the evildoer manages to channel the elder demon's power into himself. 

Menomaru succeeds in his goal and throws Inu-Yasha for a loss. In addition to keeping Kirara in thrall, the demon also works a similar bewitchment on Kagome, and for good measure he unleashes a plague of insects on helpless villagers. 

 Kagome, given demon-powers by her puppeteer, attacks Inu-Yasha and pins him to a tree with her enchanted arrows-- a version of the same tree where Kagome's ancestor Kikyo consigned Inu-Yasha to a temporary death. And although the trauma of "killing" her romantic interest breaks the spell over Kagome, her guilt seemingly summons Kikyo herself, and the undead priestess commands Kagome to return to her own era.  The script does not say so, but I think this is possible because her actions while under the moth-demon's control make her want to retreat from the trauma of killing Inu-Yasha, even though she should suspect that his death may not be permanent.

Meanwhile, Sesshomaru, whose sword Menomaru also sought to steal, seeks to join the fight, though mostly to avenge himself on the moth-demon for the latter's attack. Miroku and Sango have separate fights with Menomaru's two henchwomen, with Sango's struggle being more  tempestuous because her opponent uses her beloved Kirara against her. Like Kagone, Kirara breaks free from the spell by an act of loving will.

The Big Bad, though, is still at large, and neither Sango nor Miroku can stop him. The ancient world's only hope is if Kagome can overcome her reticence and once more bridge the gap between her time-frame and that of the dog-demon. To make Menomaru reprehensible on a personal level, he's also a demon-snob, who sneers at the romantic interaction of the time-crossed lovers-who-aren't-technically-together. Inu-Yasha duplicate the deed of his sire by vanquishing Menomaru. Sesshomaru doesn't end up affecting the story at all, so it's possible the writer only included him as a touchstone, to keep the character "in the loop" for future movies.

AFFECTIONS, an original script rather than an adaptation of a Takahashi story, mentions a detail that I never saw mentioned in any English translations of the manga. I knew that the tree on the modern-day Higurashi property was the same as the one whereon Inu-Yasha temporarily "dies" in feudal times, and that when Kagome falls through the well on the same property, she's able to revive Inu-Yasha from his imprisonment. But I didn't know that the wood used to make the walls of the well came FROM the sacred tree that has remained in the same place over the centuries. This detail goes a long way toward explaining why the well has supernatural properties of its own. 

PHANTOM OF THE WEST (1931)

 



PHENOMENALITY: *uncanny*
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *sociological*


THE PHANTOM OF THE WEST is a fairly lively western sound serial. Tom Tyler is a cowboy out to avenge his father's death at the hands of a gang ruled by "the Phantom," a mysterious figure in a black cloak and slouch hat.  This Phantom doesn't have any special weapons, though for some reason he sends message to his enemies with special darts that make a whistling sound. (This device was recycled three years later for MYSTERY MOUNTAIN.)

It's pretty much standard western action. Tyler would go on to face yet another "Phantom menace" in 1933's THE PHANTOM OF THE AIR, and then followed that up by playing THE PHANTOM.  Of minor interest is a scene in which Tyler's character detains the horse-riding heroine (Dorothy Gulliver) for questioning, and she smartly responds by smacking him with her riding-crop. She doesn't do much else in the reminder of the serial except be menaced by the Phantom, though.

There's also a minor mystery to a group of masked riders who may or may not work for the Phantom, and a thoroughly unfunny comic relief with a stuttering gimmick.

HONOR ROLL #177

 DOROTHY GULLIVER: "A g-g-g-GHOSTT!"



We all know what happens when Kagome tells INU-YASHA to sit, but can she bring him to heel?




SHARON LEE JONES, Princess of the Wet T-Shirt.



In his feature film debut LUPIN III steals the show, among other things.



ZACK MCGOWAN got his motor running, but he didn't manage to head out on the highway.




"Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of bad B-filmmakers? BARBARA REED do."




THE SUICIDE SQUAD (2019)

 






PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *good*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *cosmological, psychological, sociological*

One of the best things about bad movies is that they sometimes engender good ones. For instance, I gave the 2016 SUICIDE SQUAD movie a positive review on the basis of its being a summer popcorn movie that managed to be moderately diverting, though I made no bones about the fact that it was largely a bad rendering of a generally above-average comics-original. At the time the film's greatest asset was the vivacious portrayal of Margot Robbie as Harley Quinn, though this virtue was largely cancelled by the lame rendition of another strong comics-character, Deadshot, by an apparently lazy and disinterested Will Smith. Now, however, I would say that the best thing about the 2016 film was that, for whatever reasons, it pleased its audience enough to make fair money-- and without that earlier success, there might not have been a 2019 SUICIDE SQUAD, though ironically, this one did not enjoy good box office for a host of exigent reasons.

Gunn's title THE SUICIDE SQUAD suggests something of a soft reboot away from the earlier film, though this might have been harder to sell had Will Smith been available to reprise his shitty Deadshot. His happy absence made certain that all of the performers got equal treatment in the ensemble. Said ensemble ranged from the "old guard" (Robbie as Harley Quinn, Joel Kinnaman as "villain-wrangler" Rick Flag) to such newbies as Idris Elba's Bloodsport (more or less a Deadshot "type"), Daniela Melchior's Ratcatcher, David Dastmalchian's Polka-Dot Man, John Cena's Peacemaker, and King Shark, played by a combination of CGI and the voice of Sylvester Stallone. Also returning was the devious Amanda Wallace (Viola Davis), who sends her unwilling pawns into the field for yet another "black ops" mission. 

This time the mission requires the characters to infiltrate the government of a Caribbean island, Corto Maltese, which is now controlled by a ruthless dictator hostile to the United States. A separate contingent of Squad members (including Jai Courtney's Captain Boomerang) are sent to the island to be slaughtered by soldiers, purely to distract from the real operation, which by itself shows that we're not dealing with some benign MISSION IMPOSSIBLE scenario. In fact, when the real operatives make their way into the wilderness of Corto Maltese, they encounter a force of armed men and wipe them out-- only to learn that the dead men were members of a revolutionary group that the Squad was supposed to contact.

James Gunn, who both wrote and directed SQUAD, includes a lot of moments of black comedy like this one. Polka-Dot Man gained his "dot-powers" because his mother experimented on him to give him super-powers, so that the miserable super-villain frequently sees his mother's image superimposed on anyone he fights. Ratcatcher, whose motif is controlling hordes of rats, clearly relates to rodents better than to people, again thanks to parental issues. Yet Gunn avoids the smug irony of an anti-superhero screed like Amazon's THE BOYS. Whereas the 2016 film shoved the characters together and faked forming an "esprit d'corps," Gunn succeeds in making these disparate characters relate to one another. A particular favorite scene involves Harley Quinn escaping the dictator's prison, only to witness Flag and Bloodsport about to enter the prison to break her out. Deeply touched, she offers to go back inside so they can rescue her.

But it wouldn't be Suicide Squad if there wasn't double-dealing, and Waller has her own double-agent inside the group, ready to protect the interests of her intelligence agency. More importantly, though, the ostensible point of the mission-- to investigate a hidden weapon inside a Corto Maltese complex-- turns out to be a real threat based on one of the weirder DC Comics villains: Starro, a gargantuan starfish-alien. Whereas the first SQUAD movie had the villains unite against a common threat in a phony manner, Gunn's malcontents make believable saviors, precisely because they are outsiders starved for empathy, and so the villains become temporary heroes. Ratcatcher's role in defeating Starro with her rat-army might even be said to offer an apologia for rodents. The one exception is Peacemaker, who betrays the group and is slain for it, though a last-minute "save" preserves him for his own HBO series.

Though Gunn works in some shots against conniving American intelligence, SUICIDE SQUAD only uses politics as an motive to play a couple dozen bizarre comics characters off one another. In that, Gunn's film is more true to the history of the American comics-medium than Hollywood's brief vogue for the superficial "realism" of the Nolan/Snyder-verse.


MYSTERIOUS DOCTOR SATAN (1940)

 



PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *psychological, sociological*

Though MYSTERIOUS DOCTOR SATAN doesn't quite reach the top of the hill alongside the best serials of William Witney and John English, like DRUMS OF FU MANCHU, it's a solid "B" entry in terms of the quality of the stuntwork and its main villain. Like DRUMS, this is a serial whose villain is the real star of the show. 

This is somewhat ironic in that the original script was prepared by Republic Studios for a SUPERMAN serial, had the studio been able to come to terms with DC Comics. One wonders how much of the familiar Superman mythology would have made it into the rough-and-ready action-template favored by Republic.  As it is, SATAN's substitute hero. "the Copperhead," seems closer to the model of Zorro, who was often succeeded by modern-day incarnations of the character.  In the first installment of the serial, protagonist Bob Wayne learns from his father-substitute Governor Bryson that Bob's true father had been a vigilante called the Copperhead. Bob is intially ashamed to learn that the father he never knew was an outlaw-- thus proving that Bob's a real straight-arrow-- but Bryson sets Bob right, informing the young man that vigilantism is OK when there's real evil to be opposed-- evil like the insidious world conqueror, Doctor Satan.

After this introductory chapter, the Copperhead becomes a pretty standard athletic Republic hero, capable of many fantastic stunts but with no great mythology of his own. In contrast, the evil Doctor Satan, as played by genre-veteran Eduardo Cianelli, outshines the rather routine gimmicks he's given to work with-- remote-control electrical devices that slay any rebellious henchmen, and a giant robot whom the Firesign Theater once dubbed "an enraged water heater."  Cianelli gives the evil doctor a brooding, forceful intelligence even though one never knows who Satan is or how he came to be a sinister mastermind.

But as noted before, Republic's specialty was fast action, and SATAN has it to spare, even though as is often the case the best cliffhanger-scenes occur in the earliest chapters.  In addition to the heroic strivings of star Robert Wilcox (or his stunt double), a few chapters also feature some horse-riding action by stunt-rider Dorothy Herbert, who gets some decent fighting-action.  This was Herbert's only cinematic appearance.

THE LOST JUNGLE (1934), DARKEST AFRICA (1936)

 



PHENOMENALITY: (1) *uncanny,* (2) *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *cosmological, sociological*


Time proves an ironic master. Often, as in the case of these two serials, the "gimmick" being used to sell them to one generation may prove of minimal interest to later audiences.

It's perfectly understandable that since these serials were presenting the fictionalized adventures of real-life lion-tamer Clyde Beatty, the Beatty character should therefore spend huge amounts of time in both serials taming lions, or tigers, or better yet, both of them together, since a lion-and-tiger act was one of Beatty's real-life specialties. But for modern audiences, these are likely to be a tough slog.

Of the two serials featuring Fictional-Beatty as a daredevil hero, LOST JUNGLE-- one of the last serials produced by Mascot Studios before it was mostly absorbed by Republic-- is the better of the two. To be sure, the charisma Beatty imposed over his trained animals doesn't come across through the camera's lens: he seems ill-at-ease before the camera much of the time-- though for some viewers this might be preferable to the dime-a-dozen "stalwart leading man" types that infested most serials. Oddly, in comparison to most romance-free action-serials, Beatty is made to look a little more human thanks to the ardent attention of his girlfriend Ruth (Cecilia Parker, who's a much better actor than Beatty). The two of them can't seem to get on the same page regarding their romantic status, and Ruth's father presses the issue even more by taking Ruth with him on a ship bound to investigate a mysterious island in the South Pacific.  Beatty receives word that the ship has been wrecked on the island and he mounts a rescue expedition via dirigible-- though, just to keep the circus-theme going, he also decides that he's going to capture as many animals from the island as he can take back with him.

For good measure, Beatty further highlights his naivete about human nature by including in the rescue-party one Sharkey. In our first look at Sharkey we're given an anti-Beatty, for he's a trainer who beats his animals maliciously, and this forces the hero to deal out a Beatty-beatdown. Naturally, Sharkey plots to trip Beatty up whenever he can.

The island is host to two uncanny presences. One is an uninhabited "lost city," name of Kamor, which still has a few traps for the unwary, like a thriving pit of crocodiles. The other is that somehow the island plays host to numerous wild beasts not native to the South Pacific, particularly-- you guessed it-- lions and tigers. The script does not attempt to explain the beasts' provenance or the city's emptiness, and together these factors give the setting an uncanny phenomenality comparable to that of many other jungle pictures examined on this blog.  LOST JUNGLE is a moderately entertaining series of thinly plotted jungle thrills, though recommended only for viewers in the mood for this sort of thing.




By contrast, DARKEST AFRICA is a serial that tries to do too many things and does none of them well. The serial's primary claim to fame these days is that Beatty's antagonists include a cadre of warriors called "Batmen," and thus the serial has as good a claim as several other sources as a possible inspiration for the name of the DC Comics Batman.

Apparently when Republic bought some or all of Mascot's properties, they decided to give the lion-taming adventure-hero a second outing. Possibly a script had already been produced at Mascot; only one creative talent made the jump from JUNGLE to AFRICA, a writer named John Rathmell.  Still, no matter how much or how little Rathmell contributed to both pictures, they share a similar disinterest in providing a rationale for their weird settings. But while JUNGLE didn't need much explanation, AFRICA really does-- and it doesn't have any to offer.

The title is one of the weirdest aspects of the film, invoking racial myths rather covertly. There aren't many scenes with Black African natives, but in a sense one of the most common race-myths associated with them-- that Black Africans will fall all over themselves for a Blonde Goddess-- is transferred from native tribes to the white inhabitants of the bizarre lost city of Joba.

The plot gets started when animal-trainer Beatty-- ostensibly the same character as in JUNGLE, though with no Ruth in sight-- meets a jungle boy named Baru (Manuel King, billed as an animal trainer in his own right). Baru is said to have been raised in the jungle, and he's even bonded to an obedient gorilla-servant, Bonga (Crash Corrigan). Yet he has an adult sister named Valerie Tremaine, presumably from either Europe or America, and there's absolutely no explanation of how the two of them, presumably separated at some earlier time, came together. Nor does Baru explain how he and Valerie came to investigate lost Joba; only that Valerie was taken hostage by the city 's evil high priest Dagna. Baru wants someone to help him go rescue his sister, and Beatty agrees to do so, taking a small party of travelers that includes two mercenary diamond-hunters and an American black comic-relief named Hambone (Ray Turner).

The camera's side-trips to Joba inform the audience that the city seems to lack any secular authority at all. Dagna wants to promote Valerie as "the Goddess of the Golden Bat" to the rarely seen populace of the city, but it's not clear why he needs her. He seems to wield complete authority over the Batmen, a troop of men who can fly through the skies on artificial bat-wings, so one wonders why he doesn't just seize power outright. Perhaps he thinks that the populace is so religious that only a "blonde goddess" can gain their approval, though the script doesn't give any reason as to why the Jobans would associate blonde girls with some primeval bat-deity. Additionally, Joba boasts no other technology save whatever principle allows the Batmen to fly on their unconvincing wings. I suspect that the real impetus for the Batmen was the similarly accoutered "Hawkmen" in Universal Studios' serial adaptation of FLASH GORDON. If so, the producers of AFRICA jumped on the bandwagon before it started, as both serials came out in February 1936.

The mockup for the city of Joba looks good, and the Batmen's flying scenes are moderately impressive. Unfortunately, the goal of freeing Valerie is so limited that the script must keep finding contrivances to put obstacles in the way of Beatty and his allies. Beatty, Baru and Valerie are as one-dimensional as heroes as Dagna and the two diamond-hunters are as villains. Frankly, only two characters work very well-- and one of them is Bonga the Gorilla.

Hambone the comedy relief is no better or worse than most characters of his type. His first big scene comes when he's waylaid by a tribe of Black Africans who don't know what to make of him. When the local witch doctor demonstrates his penny-ante fake magic before Hambone, the goof tries to one-up the magician-- and only dumb luck keeps Hambone out of a tiger pit. Turner also performs some nice comic pratfalls when he's captured in Joba. Strangely, the script throws out a stray plot-line in which Dagna invites Hambone to use his "magic" to bring to life some long dead historical figure-- and then nothing comes of the plot-thread. Maybe this was another subconscious identification between the fictional white Jobans and real Black Africans, standing in for the supposed superstitious credulity of the latter?

CONAN THE ADVENTURER SEASON 2 (1993)

 







PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical, psychological. sociological*

Thanks to the wonders of streaming I was at last able to see the second (and much longer) season of CONAN THE ADVENTURER. I had seen the first season on broadcast TV, but not this one, and I found that I could upgrade the second season to a mythicity rating of "fair." The final 52 episodes still suffer from all the political correctness of the first 13, but there's a little more breadth of imagination this time, though certainly nothing to match the original stories of Robert E. Howard.

I commented earlier that Howard made only one usage of his  "serpent-men masquerading as humans" idea, and that the first CONAN season didn't succeed in transmitting the paranoid quality of that fantasy. However, Season 2 shows the minions of evil Wrath-Amon insinuating themselves in human culture more insidiously, which makes them a somewhat greater threat. Of course, Wrath-Amon-- easily the best-designed character in a visual sense, and well-voiced by Scott McNeil-- is the major menace, constantly scheming to bring the demon-god Set out of the Abyss to overthrow humankind. The serpent-wizard and his human opponents-- Conan and his band of stalwarts-- constantly contend over sources of "star-metal," which can be used both to banish serpent-people out of the world or to bring evil serpent-gods into it.

A fair amount of Howard's mythology gets imported into the cartoon's loose "dungeons-and-dragons" format, though usually only in terms of the names of characters and places. One Howard tale does get adapted in an extremely loose fashion, though.

As my commentary here should make clear, Howard's Conan tale "The Frost-Giant's Daughter" takes place in a world of harsh world, where sex can be used for violent ends. Obviously, none of this content could appear in a mainstream cartoon aimed in part at juvenile audiences. Yet Jean Chalopin (who wrote many of the Season 2 episodes) does manage to capture some aspects of the original story "through a glass darkly."



As part of an ongoing quest for "star-metal," Conan and his Viking-looking buddy Snag arrive at a snowbound village, with Snag filling the Cimmerian's ears with the story of Atali, daughter of the frost giant Ymir, who lures travelers to an icy death. But it's a different type of femininity who enthralls Snag: a beefy Nordic woman, one Britta, who seems as tough as he is. Britta rejects Snag's attempts at courtship and, to get rid of him, tells him to bring her an ice-flower from Atali's garden. Snag talks Conan into undertaking this exploit, which amounts to the two warriors trespassing on the terrain of the ice-giants. When Atali appears, she's somewhat justified in seeking to make both men her eternal prisoners, though Chalopin does at least establish that all the giants are cruel sorts, rather than poor misunderstood wights. The heroes manage to survive and Snag presents Britta with the ice-flower. She gives him more consideration not because he succeeded at her arbitrary task-- she says-- but because he's no longer boastful about it. This I view as eyewash, designed to obscure the fact that Britta is almost as much an example of toxic femininity as Howard's frost-spirit.

Speaking of female characters, Conan's gal-pal Jezmine gets a character-arc not seen in the other subordinate heroes. for the lady acrobat is belatedly revealed to be the offspring of a human woman and a good-hearted serpent-man. This could have made for some good melodrama, but the writers barely get any mileage out of the idea. Similarly, even though it's intimated that Jezmine has a thing for Conan, and vice versa, the writers won't even touch on even G-rated romance here. Another episode has Jezmine compete with an Amazon Queen to keep Conan from becoming the Queen's slave, but the script tries not to show Jezmine being jealous of Conan being possessed by another woman, claiming only that he is her "friend." But even these touches are more interesting than anything that happens with the one-note original characters who go around lecturing Conan for his barbarian shortcomings.

However, the menace of the serpent-god's invasion does have some strong metaphysical awe on occasion, and the common threat forces Conan's group to forge temporary alliances with power-hungry (though still human) wizards Ram-Amon and Mesmira. In fact, although Wrath-Amon and his serpentine deity are ultimately defeated, and Conan's petrified family-members are returned to good health, both of the two human wizards escape to raise havoc some other day. Since I doubt that the producers thought they'd be awarded a third season, I'd like to believe they wanted to show that even a "D&D" version of Conan's world is never made totally safe from all evil-- even if those producers weren't quite able to overcome their own evil of banality.

THE WILD WORLD OF BATWOMAN (1966)

 






PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *comedy*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *psychological*

I once commented to someone that WILD WORLD OF BATWOMAN might be the closest thing to an original work by producer and director (and sometimes writer) Jerry Warren. However, I was probably giving BATWOMAN too much credit simply for not being among the four films wherein Warren was paid to add new footage to other directors' films to make them more marketable, beginning with his 1964 re-working of the Mexican horror-flick THE AZTEC MUMMY. But the truth is that Warren did produce and direct four low-budget films first, and while they were both dull and derivative, at least there was some minor linear logic to all of them. My recent re-screening of BATWOMAN had me missing the subtleties of THE INCREDIBLE PETRIFIED WORLD.

BATWOMAN appeared right after the last of Warren's re-workings, and it was the last full feature he worked on until fifteen years later, when he summoned one last old-school effort for 1981's FRANKENSTEIN ISLAND, which these days I consider the best of his bad repertoire. (Before his quasi-retirement Warren served as one of three directors on HOUSE OF THE BLACK DEATH, but I'd consider that to be another "hired gun" job.)

Given that Warren had never directed a professionally released comedy movie in his life, he must have convinced himself that the success of the BATMAN teleseries arose from shoveling any old kind of absurd crap onto the screen, as long as the crap included a handful of sexy women. A disproportionate amount of the film is spent with the heroine Batwoman (Katherine Victor, a veteran of previous Warren efforts) consulting with or dancing alongside her troop of scantily clad "Bat Girls," so at the very least he must have thought he could sell the film on sex appeal. (How he thought he would avoid a suit from DC Comics is anyone's guess.) One story has it that Warren's casting director happened to be on the site of a strip club just as the police closed the place down, and since a bunch of the girls were put out of work, the guy hired them to play "the Bat Girls"-- who do almost nothing in the film but dance around.

The sex appeal angle is the only consistent thing in the script, solely credited to Warren. The titular heroine has no alter ego and there's no suggestion as to how she became a crimefighter, or why she surrounds herself with a bunch of hot-girl aides (and no, there's not even a viable lesbian angle there). The Bat Girls carry out a few duties on behalf of Batwoman, but they show no evidence of having been trained to fight or to use weapons. Apparently Warren didn't want to bother with fight-choreography either, since there's only one "fight scene" as such. Warren suggests that Batwoman has had earlier encounters with a master villain named "Rat Fink," who, when he finally appears, looks like a cross between The Shadow and the masked wrestler Santo. 

Rat Fink isn't seen as often as his chief servant, Professor Neon, who's invented a pill that can make its victims deliriously happy. Used in some strategic manner, this might serve for some world-conquering plot. But Rat Fink has a more convoluted plan. He has Neon kidnap one of the Bat Girls and feed her a happy pill, so that she dances around even more than usual in her cell. Neon then tries to extort Batwoman into stealing a listening-device from a tech company. Batwoman refuses to do so unless she can see that the captive Bat Girl is in good health. The kidnappers, instead of just letting the heroine talk on the phone with her minion, allow Batwoman to come to their hideout for verification. To be sure, Neon tries to gain the upper hand by slipping Batwoman a happy-pill mickey, but she switches cups, tosses a smoke bomb and punches out one hood. (Yes, that's the fight scene.) Batwoman escapes with her aide but somehow can't find the hideout later when she tries to locate Neon's lab.

There's a near pointless interview with the head of the tech company, followed by some Bat Girls dancing on the beach. Rat Fink appears and abducts more of the helpless femmes, taking them back to his lair. Batwoman finally tracks the evildoer to his hideout, and she and the remaining Bat Girls make the scene. Rat Fink somehow conjures up clones of himself and everyone runs around the room in a blatant imitation of the MONKEES TV show. Rat Fink is unmasked, proving to be the only suspect even made available, and he justifies himself by saying he wanted the listening-device because he loves hearing other people's conversations. I guess that counts as some sort of psychological tic, which is more than we get from the heroine and her dancing fools.

Unlike the actors playing the villains, who mug ferociously, Victor tries to play her role straight, though the ghastliness of her outfit undermines any sangfroid on her part. I doubt that Warren made any money from this dull farrago. But of all his films, this one is probably the one best known to collectors of curious ephemera, so I guess BATWOMAN paid off for the director in terms of fame--or at least infamy.


THE PHOENIX (1981)

 






PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *good*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *drama*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *metaphysical*

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

I remember liking the PHOENIX pilot-film back in the day, but not until re-watching it did I spot the covert myth-theme suffusing the narrative. Suffice to say that although film and television are full of heavy-handed examples of the Imitatio Christi trope, PHOENIX is one of the few that subtly mixes Christian tropes into a story that's being sold with New Age imagery.

Of course, parts of the narrative are more successful than others. The movie begins with a long panning shot over a frozen landscape-- presumably the area where the titular Phoenix will be found-- while a voiceover states that, "When the gods were very young, seeing that men lived like wild animals, they took pity on them, and sent to Earth a child of theirs so that he might teach men knowledge of the greatest of all gods." Nothing more is said about any "greatest of all gods," but from the lectures that the main character later gives to a disciple, one might say that it's actually "the god within" every human. More on that later. The voiceover's Christ-parallel seems obvious enough, though at least the narrator doesn't say that "the child" is the only begotten son of these deities. We never know anything about "the gods," though they're implicitly "ancient astronauts" whom early mankind mistook for divinities in the well worn tradition of Erich Von Daniken. One assumes that the "child" must have been sent to Earth in antiquity to become some sort of culture-hero, or perhaps even several culture-heroes, since a well-traveled astronaut might explain the parallels between, say, Egypt and Meso-America. But if one doesn't want to dwell on a Big Explanation for these parallels, they're only emphasized at the film's beginning, while the bulk of the film focuses on its combination of Christian and New Age tropes into its main character Bennu (Judson Scott). 

Following the voiceover, we see two of the main supporting-characters, archaeologist Dr. Fraser and Diego DeVarga, meet in some part of "Latin America"-- which we know because DeVarga is said to be with the "Latin American Department of Antiquities." (Call me cynical, but somehow I doubt that one would ever find such a department straddling even two Latin American countries, much less all of them.) Right away, it's made clear that DeVarga is very overprotective of a recent discovery on his turf-- later said to be Peru-- as if he's afraid that the norteamericanos are going to steal it. Together the two experts investigate an unearthed burial chamber that suggests both Aztec and Mayan motifs. A sarcophagus bearing the name "Bennu" recites the Egyptian legend of the Phoenix, the bird that renews itself from its own ashes, with which both experts are familiar. Yet they don't seem to know that "Bennu" is one translation of the Egyptian word for the great bird, which the Greeks rendered as "Phoenix." Despite DeVarga's reluctance to have the sarcophagus shipped out of his country, he concedes that only in the U.S. can one find equipment sophisticated enough to analyze this valuable find.

As a result of that investigation, the sarcophagus opens, revealing the undecayed form of a tall blonde humanoid, wearing an amulet with a Phoenix symbol. In due time the humanoid, Bennu by name, revives on his own, gets up and leaves.

In the New Testament Christ first choice for one of his twelve disciples is the apostle Andrew. Bennu's first ally is an allotype for Mary Magdalene-- or, to be precise, the popular conflation of the original Biblical figure with the unnamed prostitute of Luke Seven. Not that photographer Noel Marshall (Shelley Smith) is a fallen woman as such, but her first statement on seeing Bennu exit the hospital is, "Big, blonde and barefoot, just the way I like 'em." There's not a lot of time devoted to her concupiscence, but her redemption is important to the storyline. She takes Bennu to her house because he tells her he may perish if he has to remain in the city, exposed to its toxins and separated from the healthy oxygen of plant life. 

Noel also learns that Bennu has many psychic talents-- telepathy, telekinesis, and precognition-- which powers are channeled though his phoenix-form amulet. He also exudes some mysterious charisma, for while Noel and Bennu are at the beach, a young boy named Tim is curiously drawn to Bennu's presence. Tim stopped speaking and hearing after his father went MIA overseas, to the great frustration of his natural mother and her new husband. Tim's parents naturally steer the child away from the mysterioso blonde man.

Bennu needs materials to help him cope with the atmosphere of big cities, and so he has Noel contact Fraser, presumably because at some point the spaceman read Fraser's mind and decided he was a good guy. Fraser is guilted into helping ("I did not ask to be awakened... you woke me, you disturbed my rest, now accept some responsibility for my life!")

Fraser agrees to keep Bennu's location secret from the government, but he can't finance everything the alien needs. Thus Bennu, much like a character in a seventies Disney comedy, uses his powers to make some fast cash at a crooked gambling establishment. The crooked gamblers take exception to being rooked as they rook others, so they try to get their money back, forcing Bennu to use his powers in self defense. However, in an unusual twist, Bennu doesn't simply defeat the gangsters. Instead he fakes the destruction of himself, Noel and the money by blowing up Noel's car. 

To be sure, Bennu doesn't come off as very Christ-like in this section, pissing off Noel with his precipitate actions (which also include his having destroyed all the photos she took of him). His responses are enigmatic: "I can't be the thing that makes your dream happen" and "I can help you find your way out of the desert." He also begins talking as if there's some grander plan in his resurrection, even though earlier he thought it mere accident, and he says the same again later to DeVarga. Noel gets tired of the enigmas and complains about how her feet hurt-- so Bennu rubs them, maybe a little more erotically than Biblical women (like Luke's sinful woman) tend to the feet of the Messiah. (This is a good place to remember that Noel is the French word for Christmas, traced down from the Latin word for "birthday," natalis.)

Bennu still needs help, so he has Noel reach out to Doctor Fraser. Fraser makes the mistake of confiding in an assistant named Judas (not really, but he might as well be so named). The assistant informs DeVarga of Fraser's communication with the missing spaceman, and DeVarga insists that when Bennu is captured he must be returned to Peru. Meanwhile, though Tim's parents intend to keep the boy away from the weird guy, Tim feels the call and runs off to find Bennu at his refuge. Later, Bennu will admit that he psychically guided Tim, knowing that only he Bennu could heal the boy's sick heart.

Before Tim arrives, Bennu drops yet more vague hints about his mission on Earth, saying that had he been resurrected a hundred years from this time, he would have fit in "like a key in a door," but that he also thinks his revival has something to do with "the balance of nature." He and Noel almost make a love connection, but Tim shows up. So Bennu heals this troubled second disciple by telling that he can survive the demise of his father if he understands that everyone is connected by the "pure gold light" within their hearts. But Tim's parents and a local cop track Tim to the refuge, and the cop shoots Bennu. Bennu, believing he's about to die, magically transfers his amulet to Tim, which I for one view as a parallel to the healing powers Jesus gives to his disciples in Luke and in Matthew.

Bennu is taken to a hospital, but he's able to completely heal himself even without the amulet. In a key scene, DeVarga visits Bennu, claiming that this treatment stems from "ignorance," as in "they know not what they do." But Bennu is offended that DeVarga thinks that Bennu belongs to his people simply because they've built traditions around him. "A handful of soil from an Iowa cornfield is the same as the dirt found in a South American plain; it's all sacred, and it belongs to itself; not to men!" Noel confesses that Bennu has redeemed her from the coldness in her heart, and Tim, able to speak again thanks to the alien's tutelage, permits the amulet to return to the still convalescent fugitive. Bennu magicks his way out of confinement but depends upon Noel and Tim to get him clear in Noel's vehicle. DeVarga and local cops pursue.

Since this secular Christ doesn't die, a substitute must be found. Noel, desperate to help Bennu escape, ignores his command to avoid a big truck, and runs her car off the road. Noel dies in a river while Tim is able to save himself by believing in the Light Within. As Noel dies, Bennu promises that she will "rise in flame and exist in me forever"-- though, because he's still more human than savior, he weeps when her physical form passes. The film ends with an earnest discussion between Bennu and Doctor Fraser about the isolated alien's "purpose" in the current world.

Though the TV-film pulled in enough viewers to justify a series, only four hour-format episodes were made before the plug was pulled. The series proper attempted to give Bennu a more precise backstory, asserting that a female astronaut might be sleeping on Earth, while another alien from Bennu's world became his Lieutenant Girard. I watched these episodes online and they certainly don't have as much mythopoeic richness, so there's not a great chance that more episodes would have made any difference. Of the two creators, Anthony and Nancy Lawrence, the former had been writing TV episodes since the late fifties, but the only notable works I spotted on his credit-list were two OUTER LIMITS episode. He and his wife Nancy did not collaborate as both writers and producers until the early eighties, and it seems likely that both were trying to gain a rep as full-time producers with THE PHOENIX and a couple of other series-TV creations. They don't seem to have been overly successful, but the pilot film for THE PHOENIX was a good beginning, helped not only by a strong script but also by Judson Scott's intense performance. 

HONOR ROLL #176

 JUDSON SCOTT was just a phoenix on the wire.



"Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da, KATHERINE VICTOR."




The Conan cartoon may have had a lot of namby-pamby heroes but at least WRATH-AMON was a badass villain.



CLYDE BEATTY captured wild animals but he couldn't snare a film career.



His sort-of Satanic majesty, EDUARDO CIANNELLI.



DAVID DASTMALCHIAN goes a little dotty.




THE ADVENTURES OF BATMAN (1968-69)

 







PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *cosmological*


 According to the DVD version, the subtitle "with Robin the Boy Wonder" is attached to the main title, making this cartoon the second Bat-adaptation in which Robin got equal billing, following the 1949 serial. Batgirl, who became a regular member of the crimefighting team for the duration of the live-action show's third season, appears in 12 out of the cartoon's 17 episodes, but that's often enough for me to consider her a regular member of the team in ADVENTURES as well.

Despite the influence of the West-Ward-Craig BATMAN on the first Batman cartoon-- with occasional lifted phrases like the Penguin addressing his "fine feathered finks"-- ADVENTURES lacks any of the arch ironic posturing of the live-action show. It's extremely light-hearted, with lots of puns and comic pratfalls, but no more so than a lot of the "Candyland Batman" stories published by DC in the 1950s. Thus, ADVENTURES still fits the category of adventure, not comedy.

Further, since a number of episodes were written by DC comics-writers like Bob Haney and George Kashdan, most of the stories feel like early Silver Age stories, in which Batman and Robin use a comic-book version of forensic science to track down malefactors. Villains also conjure up oddball factoids about science in order to set their death-traps. In the serial's most inventive pun, original foe Simon the Pieman, who uses bakery-gimmicks as a theme, tries to execute Batgirl with "pie-zoelecticity," and even explains what actual piezoelectricity is.

The writers only troubled to make up three new villains, used offbeat versions of Scarecrow and Mad Hatter for an episode apiece, and devoted all other adventures to the quintet of Joker, Penguin, Riddler, Catwoman and Mister Freeze. (Regular crooks? Don't be silly.) Like the SUPERMAN cartoon previously produced by Filmation, the animation is extremely limited, but the character designs have a charming "bigfoot" look while the characters on SUPERMAN just looked dull and pedestrian.



Since ADVENTURES is a prime example of what Chuck Jones called "animated radio," the show stands or falls on the quality of the voice-work, and the BATMAN show is certainly one of the few Filmation shows to really excel in that department. Though the stories didn't resemble those of the 1966 BATMAN, actors Olan Soule and Casey Kasem provide letter-perfect emulations of Adam West and Burt Ward respectively. Larry Storch provided a highly individual take on the Joker (owing nothing to Cesar Romero, incidentally) and Jane Webb doubled as both Batgirl and Catwoman. But Ted Knight outshone them all, not only narrating the episodes but also producing the highly distinctive voices of Penguin, Riddler and the W.C. Fields-like twang of Simon the Pieman.

Oh, and not only does the Batgirl-setup re: her identity remain the same, so do the restrictions on her fighting-skills. The 1966 show wouldn't let Batgirl punch any bad guys; she could only kick them or hit them with props. This may have been because punching was unfeminine, or because the producers didn't want Yvonne Craig to damage the costume with strenuous stunts. Neither excuse applies very well to an animated cartoon. So Batman and Robin still got their fair share of punchouts (however limited in motion), while Batgirl was confined to kicks and, in one case, a face-shove instead of a more conventional sock in the schnozz.

REIGN OF FIRE (2002)

 



PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *drama*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *sociological* 



REIGN OF FIRE was a box-office failure in its day, and though it's fairly watchable, I can see why it didn't move audiences, despite the star talents of Christian Bale and Matthew Mc Conaughey. REIGN is another addition to the populous genre of the post-apocalyptic film. However, much of the charm of that genre lies in its abilities to (1) eradicate everything viewers may dislike about their real-life histories, and (2) erect some marvelous landscape or phenomenon to take its place. Whether it's the endless driving-spaces of MAD MAX or the grotty perils of zombie hordes, the new world has to be interesting in some way.

The film starts by showing one of the film's heroes, Quinn, as a British child who witnesses the recrudescence of a race of fire-breathing dragons in the early 21th century. The dragons, who have been sleeping beneath the earth since prehistoric times, immediately start burning everything in sight, for they feed only by devouring the ashes of what they burn. In the space of less than thirty years, the human race is nearly eliminated, both by the dragons' attacks and by futile counter-attacks by the world's military.  Only isolated tribes of humans have survived, and one such tribe, led by a grown-up Quinn (Christian Bale) resides in a castle in Northumberland. Unfortunately, the dragons frequently attack the tribe's crops, so that the humans are in more danger of starvation than direct attack.

A detachment of American soldiers-- or rather, ex-soldiers, given the annihilation of most governments in the world-- shows up on the doorstep of Quinn's tribe. The hardnosed Van Zan (McConaughey), leader of the detachment, informs the Britons that he and his men (and one female soldier) have figured out the way to hunt and kill dragons. Further, after the soldiers demonstrate their prowess with one such conquest, they want Quinn's help in locating and killing the only male dragon in the flock, so that the creatures will die out and give humanity another chance. The hub of the conflict is that Quinn must overcome his conservative instinct to protect his tribe, and join Van Zan's group in order to save humanity.

The dragons, while their FX are well realized, are conceived as no more than a biological infestation. One can't expect them to have any of the symbolic heft of the dragons of myth and legend-- and yet the script doesn't show any interest in their biology beyond describing their weaknesses. They aren't especially believable in terms of biological patterns, either: they're supposed to have fallen into their deep sleep because they destroyed the dinosaurs with their flames, and so cut off their own food-source. That's a pretty dumb sort of predator that does that!

The primary interest in REIGN is sociological. In general terms the story pits the proactive Van Zan against the merely reactive Quinn, and though Van Zan is right in his quest, Quinn is the one who survives to deal the final blow. Since the viewers don't see the rest of the world destroyed, the focus on the devastation in England may have been patterned after the London Blitz of World War II-- not least because it's American troops who come to the rescue. However, this re-playing of 20th-century history isn't enough to make REIGN's world interesting.

MORTAL KOMBAT: ANNIHILATION (1997)

 







PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical*


This movie's lack of both director Paul W.S. Anderson and writer Kevin Droney shows just how indispensable their services were in making the first MORTAL KOMBAT a hit. There were a couple of behind-the-scenes carryovers from the first film, but they may have done more harm than good. John R. Leonetti had been a cinematographer on the first KOMBAT, but the overall trajectory of his career showed that directing was not his strongest suit. But if anyone is to blame for ANNIHILATION, it's probably producer Larry Kasanoff, who collaborated with four other writers to produce an incoherent mishmash of motifs channeled from various incarnations of the RPG. One contemporaneous quote has Kasanoff exulting over the FX that he thought would grab the 1997 viewing public.

Oddly, the only actors who reprised their 1995 roles-- Robin Shou as Liu Kang and Talisa Soto as Kitana-- got very short shrift in the Kasanoff script. The 1995 film made Liu Kang the strongest character in the ensemble as well as the direct savior of Earth for his winning of the tournament. In ANNHILATION, there's a vague agenda about how Liu must train really hard to stave off the forces of another Outworld invasion, but his supposed training exercises are poorly conceived, thus undermining the character's entire arc. Kitana, who saw very little action in the first film, has a fine scene fighting reptile-ninjas with twin Malay daggers that can morph into bladed fans. But this character spends a lot of time in captivity, and her arc, which involves some sort of reconciliation with her mother (more on which later), is utterly botched. To be sure, though, Liu and Kitana get off better than the character Johnny Cage, played for a few minutes by a new actor before the heinous new villain kills him off.

The only other ensemble-character from 1995, Sonya Blade, is however hugely improved by her recasting, as actress Sandra Hess proves far more authoritative as a martial artist than Bridget Wilson. She's given a new partner for most of her scenes, the character of Jax, who made a very brief appearance in 1995, and who this time is essayed by one Lynn "Red" Williams. These two performers have the best fighting-scenes and character-scenes in the film, and they're the only reasons to watch ANNIHILATION.

I commented in my review of the first film that it was unwise for the sequel to pick up from KOMBAT's rule-bending conclusion. It's true that no matter course the filmmakers took, they could not have strictly abided by the franchise's internal rules, since that would sidelined all of the main characters for the next generation. But the scripters could have chosen to ignore KOMBAT's concluding cliffhanger and found some less hasty-pudding way to come up with a contemporary threat to bring all the heroes back together again. 

Whereas KOMBAT emphasized that the heroes' only way to save Earth for Liu Kang to win the tournament, Kasanoff and company muddy the waters. The character of the Emperor from the first name, now given the name Shao Kan (and played by Brian Thompson), somehow breaks the rules that should have kept his forces away from Earth-- though, in order that the producers don't have pay to the effects of vast armies, the "invasion" is a synthesis of the two dimensions that makes select portions of Earth look sterile. While the good guys run around trying to figure out how the villain pulled off his caper, their advisor Rauden (now played by James Remar) somehow knows that Liu Kang must master a martial skill called "Animality," while Kitana must reconcile with her mother Sindel (Musetta Vander). The latter was supposedly killed by Shao Kan along with Kitana's father when Shao Kan conquered Outworld, but the evil one somehow resurrected Sindel and made her one of his commanders (along with more reptile-ninjas, a four-armed female warrior and a swarthy centaur).



Does Shao Kan want Sindel around to validate his rule? But if so, why doesn't he just kill Kitana when he captures her? The one scene between Shao and Kitana suggests that he wants her to become his bride, so then why does he need Sindel? One or two lines suggest that Sindell's presence helped Shao break the cosmic rules, but this goes out the window when it's revealed that one of the Elder Gods conspired with Shao to make the invasion possible. Oh yeah, and the conspiratorial Elder God Shinnok is the father to both Shao Khan and Rayden, a fact not foreshadowed at all before its blunt revelation halfway through the film.

While Kasanoff bragged on ANNIHILATION's FX-scenes, the only good fights are those which combined FX with the performers doing inventive stuntwork. Thus a scene in which Shao and Liu fight in monster-form is a big waste of time, while another in which Sonja and Jax contend with a robotic opponent works much better, partly because Hess and Williams have good chemistry. There's not much FX when Kitana battles Sindel, but it's still a blah battle, particularly when contrasted with the hard-fought conflict between Sonja and female ninja Mileena (Dana Hee). Even George S. Clinton's score improves whenever Sonja and Jax are in action!

ANNIHILATION is far from the worst film of its subgenre. Still, it's a cardinal example of filmmakers thinking that an initial success meant that they could "coast" on the sequel. They found out differently, for ANNIHILATION killed the franchise for live-action feature films for the next twenty years, until the 2021 success of a franchise reboot.