You Really Push My Buttons

There's a strong argument for setting any genre film in the past because it saves your writer the trouble of explaining away cell phones and the internet. More importantly, if you choose the 1970s, it lets your set and costume team go WILD.

Quick Plot: It's 1976 in Richmond, Virginia, where attractive but sad Norma and Arthur Lewis are struggling to financially stay above water. He's a NASA scientist with astronaut dreams, while she teaches at a private academy for the tuition discount. When the school changes its policy and Arthur's application is rejected on "psychological grounds" (which are never mentioned again), the Lewises reach desperation.

It's a perfectly timed worst-case-scenario because on that very day, who should arrive but a half-faced Frank Langella bearing a mystery gift: a simple box with a big clown nose button and a million dollar proposition: push it and win a briefcase of tax-free cash knowing someone you've never met will die because of your action.

Norma and Arthur are nice, earnest people cemented into a lifestyle they can't really afford. She suffered a horrible accident in her teens that left her with a few less toes and a permanent limp, while his grandest dreams of scientific exploration are shattered in a way the movie never seems ready to address. They just want what's best for their family, so you can almost understand why Norma, tired from a day of teaching existentialism to sulking teenagers (we've all been there), can't stop herself from pressing down.

What follows is...odd, but if you're familiar with the work of writer/director Richard E. Kelly, probably what you'd expect from the Donnie Darko creator tackling a Richard Matheson short story. There are NASA conspiracies and religious miracles, kidnapping plots and possessed nose-bleeding babysitters, beautifully staged historical library sequences and lots - and I mean LOTS - of distractingly '70s wallpaper scene-stealing.

And I haven't even brought up the southern accents.

Did I enjoy The Box? Most certainly. Is The Box a good movie? No, I would say not. It's ambitious without a solid plan, much like most of Kelly's catalog. But it's also incredibly bizarre, which is a refreshing thing to find in mid-budget studio horror. 

High Points

If you're going to make a convoluted and confused thriller, you might as well make it visually interesting, and that's definitely the case here. From the woe of '70s era bridesmaids dresses to the genuine beauty of some classic southern libraries, The Box has some ace production design that goes a long way

Low Points

Seriously: this plot is a mess, and if forced to give an actual explanation of what goes on in this film, I would receive a failing grade

Lessons learned

To a kid, 35 is old

You ALWAYS get the license plate number

Nothing says Merry Christmas like a production of Jean Paul Sartyr's existential classic No Exit!

Rent/Bury/Buy

I had never heard any ringing endorsements for this now 13-year-old film, but I'm glad I finally gave it a go on the Kanopy streaming service. It's definitely a mess, but not a boring one, and I'll take it. 

Lightly Toasted

Amazon Prime’s streaming is an odd duck of a service. There are some fantastic popular and rare titles available to watch, but the one sentence synopsis and lack of listing a director OR year of release makes it rather challenging to have any clue what you may be watching. 

Such was the case with today’s feature, a classy little drama with genre touches that seems, based on the title and poster Amazon went with, to instead be a bloody period tale of witchcraft and fire.

Quick Plot: Norman Taylor is a successful college professor with high ambitions of chairing his department. Back home, his wife Tansy has some trouble interacting with his colleagues in social settings, preferring to spend her time alone at their secluded beach cottage. Could it be because it's a safer place to practice THE BLACK ARTS?

Well, yes, actually, and who can blame her when the alternative is playing bridge with stuffy academics? Tansy, you see, has picked up some witchcraft skills after a trip to Jamaica. Though her skeptic of a husband doesn't believe her, she insists that she's been using her spells to help his career advance. Offended by her silly beliefs (Norman, in case you haven't guessed, is a jerk), he forces Tansy to burn all of her occult items. Included in that stash is a locket that just so happens to have a picture of Norman inside.

Naturally--or SUPERnaturally, if you will--the Taylors have to pay. Norman is accused of raping one of his female students, then barely escapes being shot by her jealous boyfriend. Tansy decides the only way to save her husband is to sacrifice herself in his place, but Norman isn’t quite willing to let that happen, nor is the mysterious REAL villain who has been manipulating forces from the very beginning.

Based on the title and poster, I was expecting Burn, Witch, Burn (aka The Night of the Eagle, which makes a lot of sense in the final act) to be more along the Hammer-y lines of a Mark of the Devil or other often Vincent Price-filled classics. In other words, burnings at stakes, dunkings, stocks, bad wigs, and lots of pointed fingers. 

That is not this film.

That’s a good and bad thing. The bad because, hey, I love me a good inquisition exploitation flick. Good because, well, Burn, Witch, Burn is actually quite a strong film. Director Sidney Hayers worked primarily in television, and the style feels almost Twilight Zone-esque in terms of staging and performances. Co-written by, whaddya know, Twilight Zone scribes (and sci-fi icons) Richard Matheson and Charles Beaumont, Burn, Witch, Burn ultimately plays out like a feature adaptation of a Rod Serling classic. The climax is surprisingly unnerving, even with its 60+ year limitations of aging special effects. 

Or maybe I’m just a sucker for a good old-fashioned birding. 

High Points

Though I wish it had been pushed further, it’s clear that the film is acknowledging some interesting gender issues in terms of its Lady MacBeth-like details. The women in this film will fiercely work towards pushing their men into success, while the partners in question seem to barely deserve their bedside company. 

Low Points

It’s a product of its time, but I can’t help to feel like the happy, Hayes Code-friendly ending feels like a disappointment

Lessons Learned

You can hypnotize the bad, but you can't hypnotize the cards

Cottages are a great way to avoid committees and teas 

Lounging wear for women in the early 1960s was the equivalent of church or campaign-wear in the 21st century

Rent/Bury/Buy

Burn, Witch, Burn is streaming via Amazon Prime, and it’s certainly a strong way to pass 90 minutes. If you’re looking for a quality extended episode of The Twilight Zone, this is certainly your answer. 

We're Gonna Need a Bigger Pair of Glasses

You know what's awesome? Sharks. You know what some moviegoers seem to think is really awesome? Paying $5 extra to wear glasses during a movie. 

Nerds.

Jaws 3D is about sharks (which is awesome) and was heavily touted as showing them in 3D (which some people think is awesome). 

Let us evaluate now.

Quick Plot: Mike Brody (Dennis Quaid), New England's favorite sheriff's eldest, works at SeaWorld with his biologist girlfriend Kathryn (played by My So-Called Life mom Bess Armstrong with intelligent pluck). Younger water-phobe bro Sean comes to visit/flirt with Lea Thompson's water skiing princess right about the same time a Great White sneaks his way into the theme park, much to the denial of Louis Gossett Jr.'s priority jumbled boss.

Directed by Jaws (and its first sequel)'s production designer Joe Alves, Jaws 3(D) is fairly infamous for its use and abuse of 3D, that oft-loved gimmick that was making its first big comeback in the early '80s. With a screenplay that had clearly seen its share of white-out and second drafts (including one that was penned by Richard Matheson), Jaws 3(D) was never going to be a boat-rocking classic like its original. Watching it 29 years after its fairly ill-fated premiere, the real question I had was if it fell into the sequel camp of 2's okay-ish blandness or 4's hilarious badness.

Not surprisingly, Jaws 3(D) falls somewhere in between. The cast, as you've probably realized, is loaded with before-they-were-semi-famous stars and all of them know how to sell a mediocre scene, even when the writing is duller than a Fisher Price knife. There's even some successful character-based humor in Sean's water fears and plenty of warmth in Kathryn's relationship with SeaWorld's stars of the '80s, Sandy & Cindy and--get THIS--SHAMOO!

At the same time, we're treated to about twenty three conversations between Kathryn and Mike where they worry about their future, since he's been offered a job in South America and she has six months left on her contract plus an opportunity to--

What, am I boring you? How do you think I felt? I'm the one who had to sit through that conversation. 90,000 times.

See, Jaws 3(D), like many a big budget summer blockbuster hopeful, is hampered by a lazy and probably very rushed screenplay. It's great to have a respectable romance at your center, but when every scene with your leads ends with a pro and con list about their career plans, you can't really expect the popcorn crowd to swoon.

That of course leaves the thrill of Jaws 3(D) in the busy hands of its technology, which next to the dolphins and Shamoo, is easily the most adorable aspect of the film. In the first of VERY FEW shark attacks, Jaws 3(D) almost fools you into thinking you're getting some actual suspense and scares, only to reward high ticket price payers with a gleefully hilarious in yo' FACE shot of a severed arm, menacingly floating towards your imaged red and black lenses. Other 3D shots include a syringe squirting at you, a statue that's, well, a statue, a head (yes, it belongs to the same torso as the aforementioned arm only it gets to surprise a gaggle of happy tourists) and a POV shot from inside the shark's throat. That one's more weird than cute, but I give the film credit for trying.

The most fascinating aspect of Jaws 3(D) comes from its apparent corporate sponsorship. SeaWorld was clearly heavily involved in the filming, supplying some mammal co-stars and its name brand. But consider this: the main plot of Jaws 3(D) hinges on the fact that a 35' long Great White is loose inside a theme park, the kind of theme park families pay hundreds of dollars to tour on vacation. What this means is that SeaWorld has incredibly questionable construction and safety. 

Which means SeaWorld put its name and face (and dolphins' faces) on a movie that might very well be the most damning ad campaign imaginable. The equivalent would be something like Roller Coaster taking place at Great Adventure or WestWorld being recast with Mickey Mouse in the Yul Brynner role. 

I know: I want that movie too.

High Points

Kudos to any blockbuster for including a smart, brave, and quick-thinking career-minded woman as its heroine

Low Points

The final body count, SPOILER ALERT, is an all-mighty but unlucky-in-Asia 4. Four. Quatro. FOUR. This displeases me, especially when you keep setting up mob scenes in the water as a 35 FOOT LONG SHARK SWIMS BY ON AN EMPTY STOMACH

Lessons Learned

Beware the fat man in the bumper boat

Dolphins are way smarter than mere humans, even PHDs with veterinary degrees

If you love someone, you will never, ever never, take them on vacation to SeaWorld

Stray Observatiuon

Bella Swan, eat my Neosporin! In terms of who the clumsiest character in cinema history might be, I'm giving the edge to the hilariously bull-in-china-shop-that-is-a-beach Mike Brody. The man almost makes me look graceful, and I once slipped on a banana peel and cut my finger on sour cream 

Rent/Bury/Buy

Well, Jaws 3(D) isn't actually close to being good, but it's enjoyable in a super '80s way that certainly has its charms. Think of it as a nice summer popsicle when you're not really hungry, but require mild nourishment.  

Honey, I Got Incredibly Shrunk

Well before a miniature Lily Tomlin played with gorillas, some time before a man became amazingly colossal and eons before two pairs of teenage neighbors pitted a lovable ant against an oddly California-based scorpion, Richard Matheson adapted his own tale of small-en-ing for Jack Arnold’s gloriously black and white suburban universe. While The Incredible Shrinking Man himself may not be a villain per say, his plight has inspired so much in cinema history that we can’t ignore his story here at the 2nd Annual Doll’s House Celebration of the Vertically Challenged any longer.

Quick Plot: Scott Carey (Grant Williams) is a successful man of the ‘50s: he has a pretty wife, a nice home, prestigious job and handsome physique worthy of all of the above. While out on his brother’s boat on a seemingly normal summer cruise, Scott spots a mysterious fog that leaves his skin misty. Some time later, Scott starts to notice significant weight loss and far more disturbing, shrinkage.

Not Seinfeldian shrinkage, or at least, not so outspokenly so. Scott measures himself a full four inches shorter than his driver’s license height and despite early doctors’ comments that such fluctuations are normal, Scott knows better. When his wife no longer needs to stand on her tiptoes to peck his cheek, Scott digs deeper to learn that the peaceful ocean trip has exposed him to a dangerous chemical solution that science can’t stop from making him tiny.

What to do when faced with such a future? Unable to drive or work, Scott sells his story only to then suffer the effects of tabloid fame. Meanwhile, his increasing littleness makes it harder and harder to connect with his wife, leading Scott into a warm friendship with a carnival midget (back when that was the correct term) before even her three foot stature becomes too high. 

Sentenced to live in a dollhouse and battle the family cat, Scott is mistaken for dead and imprisoned in the basement, where Shelobian spiders prowl and food is scarce.

The Incredible Shrinking Man is one of the 1950s’ best sci-fi films, up there in its own way with Invasion of the Body Snatchers and Them! Based on a novel by future Twilight Zone contributor Richard Matheson (who also wrote the screenplay), it’s on a much smaller scale than some of the more celebrated monster tales, but emerges quite well because of it. Scott—played with appropriate frustration by Williams--is essentially alone in his struggle and the film rightly captures that with its style. Long stretches contain no dialogue but are served well by a hard-working score, while most of the actual speaking is his own thoughtful (sometimes too much so) narration.

There’s an easy horror film or goofy comedy to be made out of Scott’s plight, and many a lesser filmmaker has tried (see Bert I. Gordon’s inferior Attack of the Puppet People or 1981’s flop The Incredible Shrinking Woman). It’s a ripe concept for any genre, making Arnold and Matheson’s approach all the more interesting.

This is a film that takes itself seriously. While such a decision can occasionally kill a film’s potential for fun (oh hai Firestarter) it works here because of its simplicity. Much has been written about the deeper themes of Scott’s condition—in losing his stature, he loses his manhood until he recovers it by stabbing a spider with his penis/pin, blah blah blah—and it’s easy to see why. In his daily shrinking, Scott loses every piece of his former identity, from a loving wife to bank account to dapper clothes. It’s his ultimate decision to embrace the future that makes The Incredible Shrinking Man something for philosophy class.

High Points

55 years later, the amplified sound of a fuzzy legged spider scurrying towards a defenseless man? Still scary

I’m not overly familiar with the career of Grant Williams, but he gives a superb performance here, believably transforming from a ‘50s superman to angry and powerless husband to desperate survivalist. Considering he’s mostly alone onscreen for the film’s latter half, it’s all the more impressive

Low Points

Look, I love me an oversized tarantula battle as much as any arachnophobe, but are we just supposed to ignore the fact that Scott’s fuzzy nemesis is…you know, a TARANTULA? Perhaps the unlikely inclusion of a scorpion in the Honey I Shrunk the Kids’ backyard isn’t so far-fetched after all…

Lessons Learned

Since The Children clearly hasn’t taught us this hard enough, never assume fog can’t hurt you

People just don’t get shorter! (unless they’re sprayed with nuclear goo)

Always leave some Twinkies or other long-term snack in an easy-to-reach spot in the basement. You just never know

Small Wonder…

As a cat owner, watching a film like The Incredible Shrinking Man takes on a whole new level of fear. Were I to shrink to levels of GI Joe, I LIKE to believe Mookie and Joplin would still recognize my smell and voice well enough to not bat me around like a yarn mouse. I’d LIKE to believe that…

Rent/Bury/Buy

Long unavailable on DVD, The Incredible Shrinking Man is now on a disc with another decent (if less noteworthy) sci-fi flick The Monolith Monsters. This is a film that would have benefited more from a Criterion-ish DVD treatment, but it remains worthy of a cheap buy or rental even with nary an extra in sight. Sci-fi or ‘50s fans will find plenty to savor, and those who enjoy smarter than they seem genre films can’t go wrong with checking it out. Plus, tarantulas! 

Reader Recommendation: The Omega Man

“In my heart, I really wanted to lobby for The Omega Man, it introduced me to post apocalyptic movies, and is simultaneously scary, campy and endlessly entertaining. I saw it four times when it was released theatrically and it never fails to thrill me.”--Shiftless

“It's a must see, but it's so ridiculous. Heston is classic macho stereotype. And the bad guys? Apparently being mutated means being covered in white makeup and talc powder. After you watch it, you'll understand why many people saw I Am Legend and said "What the fuck....?". Because the whole point of the story is that these bad guys are still recognizably human. That the mutants consciously decide to rid themselves of this "normal" reminder of what they once were.” Ghoul Friday

Yes folks, despite my unadulterated affection for plague-ridden universes, cult card carrying mutants, and the 1970s, I had never seen 1971’s The Omega Man. Perhaps part of it stems from my iffy relationship with Charlton Heston, a justifiably celebrated actor whose political hypocrisy always irked me (how does one devote such energy to unbridled support for the second amendment following a mini-crusade against the first during his 1992 protest of Cop Killer?). Still, Instant Watch, above listed recommendations, and the fact that I’m a sucker for a good old fashioned post apocalypse led me here.

Quick Plot: Heston plays Col. Robert Neville, a military scientist surviving a lonely existence in an almost empty Los Angeles. Two years earlier, germ warfare was waged between nations, leaving most of the world’s population dead within a few minutes of catching the airborne plague. Some survived, their bodies processing the sickness by turning into albino-ish creatures of the night, their pale skin flaking while they became something of a hive mind with an aversion to technology and a love for sparkly graduation robes. “The Family,” as they now call themselves, are ruled by the menacingly named Matthias (Anthony Zerbe in a role that today would perfectly be played by John Lithgow) who would happily rule the land were it not for the thorn in his side that skips around town with a Smith & Wesson and superb aim.

It takes a certain type of actor to pull off one-man-shows onscreen. Sam Rockwell rocked solitude in Moon, Tom Hanks was likably endangered in Castaway, and the most recent I Am Legend adaptation was fantastic until Will Smith was joined by downer humans and CGI beasties. In The Omega Man, Heston is Heston, and it works quite well. He drinks like Don Draper and wears his shirt for less screen time than Fear of Clowns  Shivers or even, dare I say it, Twilight ’s Jacob. He sweats, growls, and laughs through teeth that last tasted the rarest of juicy steaks. With a less naturally interesting lead, the film would simply not work.

Eventually, Robert learns that his whole last-man-on-earth schtick is false. Hiding in the hills is a meager band of surprisingly clean survivors, headed by a leather jacket/no shirt biker med student and a foxy fashionista (by ‘70s standards) named Lisa (From a Whisper to a Scream’s Rosalind Cash). With renewed passion to cultivate a cure, Robert, Lisa, and her recently infected little brother chill out in his city penthouse while The Family gets more active in their quest to eliminate all the “users of the wheel” for good.

This is a fun, flawed, and at times, fascinating little movie that somehow works both as a slightly cheesy cult relic and a genuinely effective film. The idea behind The Family almost deserves its own film, as their unbridled uniformity in a time just a few years after civil rights legislation is a story in itself. Meanwhile, Heston swaggers with hairy confidence and he and Cash share an easy chemistry that feels believably sexy, even if their newfound irresponsibility is distractingly dumb (remember dear, just ‘cause you’re in love doesn’t mean the sun won’t go down).

High Points

Can we give a round of sharply gloved applause to whomever was responsible for the costuming of this film? Between Heston’s green velvet ruffled suit and slightly Seinfeldian pirate shirt, Dutch’s leather jacket with a giant middle finger patch, and Lisa’s blindingly bright orange fiesta dress, I almost wanted to head to the nearest mall

Low Points

I wasn’t expecting The Omega Man to be even the slightest bit subtle, but the blatant crucifixion image in the final shot is a bit much

Lessons Learned

If you’re Charlton Heston, one gun shot is (not surprisingly) the equivalent of six

It’s harder to blend in with mannequins than cartoons might have you think

Some accessories, such as seemingly accident prone hoop earrings and dunce caps, simply never go out of style

Rent/Bury/Buy

A must-see for any genre fan, The Omega Man is currently streaming on Netflix and deserves 100 minutes of your time. Is it dated? Certainly. The makeup looks as impressive as that on your last Halloween party guests and the dialog occasionally inspires a Heston-like roar. Nevertheless, the film is a fun watch with some strong ideas, perhaps even ahead of its time and yet still an engrossing shoot the mutants up monster mash.