Island of Dr. Moreau (1977)

Dangerous Adventures Make the 1977 Island of Dr. Moreau

by Kristin Battestella

AIP's 1977 adaptation of H.G. Wells' The Island of Dr. Moreau directed by Don Taylor (Escape from the Planet of the Apes) pairs down the half man half animal mad science to its core themes with claustrophobic symbolism and strong performances anchoring the beastly adventures as shipwrecked Andrew Braddock (Michael York) is taken in by the isolated scientist Dr. Paul Moreau (Burt Lancaster). Also on the beautiful but dangerous island are Moreau's enchanting adopted daughter Maria (Barbara Carrera) and his crusty assistant Montgomery (Nigel Davenport). Braddock, however, discovers there are more monstrous inhabitants – victims of Dr. Moreau's twisted experiments – leading to a struggle of wills, abominations, and control.

The silent vast and empty blue ocean open The Island of Dr. Moreau with a tiny boat and one small, desperate survivor bearded and thirsty. Epic music mirrors the hope of this green, lush island oasis, but hanging vines, uneven terrain, and booby traps belie this paradise said to be one thousand miles from nowhere. Fenced in buildings with food, bedding, mosquito netting, books, and fresh clothing appear civilized, however dangerous animals are said to roam the island and one should never leave the compound after dark. Idyllic pets and pleasant races in the woods lead to strange sounds in the night and “muffled roaring.” Viewers think we see something amid the rustling leaves but we don't know what. Hunched creatures, creepy servants drinking from puddles like animals, and more “special” types of people on this island are in need of Dr. Moreau's care – and his laboratory is complete with a menagerie of wild cats, cages, and shackles. Rearing horses, chases, fear of the unknown, and unanswered questions are difficult for men who like to know and control all when exploring the natural or unnatural boundaries they should not. The once lovely island locales become increasingly congested environs as the external out of control science closes in on the body sacred thanks to serums, syringes, and surgery. Why would a doctor create such suffering animals now made partially people? Are the hairy inbetweens and experimentation in the name of science worth the loss of one's morality? The civilized man must defend himself in caves where unwelcome, monstrous, man made creatures have their own laws – not to walk on all fours, not to eat flesh, no taking of life. Gunshots scare away fierce offenders, for these animals given speech and rules remain controlled through fear. Will these hybrids remember what humans told them to say and do if they regress to their innate ways? After all, to study nature, one has to be as remorseless as nature, which has its own sense of justice, selection, and violence to match our undeniable ability to destroy. Dangerous tiger attacks, mercy killings, and angry mobs with torches lead to blood and pain in well paced action as power devolves into anarchy. Although The Island of Dr. Moreau's symbolism is apparent, the sentiment doesn't hit the audience over the head thanks to a multi-layered cycle of man made monsters and men made gods.

Dr. Paul Moreau showed signs of brilliance in his youth and loves to converse about emerging technology, but Burt Lancaster's (From Here to Eternity) extensive academic has been here in his own paradise for eleven years. His colleagues opposed his work, criticizing his theories on the nature of good and evil, to which even Moreau agrees he doesn't have all the answers. Fortunately, he admires Braddock's intelligence, explaining to him the need to help his fellow human beings by controlling all stages of life whilst also keeping him at the compound and withholding the details of his trial and error experiments to save mankind. Moreau thinks what he is doing is just – making his work all the more frightening when the results aren't as he hoped. The doctor gets angry with his whip when his creations remain animalistic. He speaks to his subjects about the law from his rocky pulpit, lording over those punished in his house of pain with his white suit and halo like hat almost as if Elmer Gantry turned to dastardly mad science. Moreau thinks he can tell an animal he is human and it will understand. He wants his flock to obey Braddock – Moreau needs a successor to continue his delivery of science from cruel butchery and dissection. However, Braddock is a man who doesn't do what he's told, and Moreau is determined to use his tough love science to prove Braddock's true nature. Unfortunately, Moreau is threatened by his own cause, unaware his do as I say not as I do superiority does not give him reign over his creations. Formerly of The Lady Vain, the situation goes from bad to worse for Michael York's (The Three Musketeers) rugged seaman Braddock. He's curious about the island, reads, questions where everyone came from and if there are nearby places. He walks the coast and repairs his damaged boat – the audience is on his side as the handsome hero uncovers the askew science. Alas, Braddock is too inquisitive for his own good, in over his head and meddling where he shouldn't. He must learn to abide by this island's rules or he will be punished for his interference. Braddock becomes desperate to remember who he is and where he comes from in all this upside down, and The Island of Dr. Moreau is a fine two-hander between its leading men – father and son figures where the elder won't get his way thanks to the new, stronger man. Though often sweaty and shirtless when proving his macho, Braddock becomes embarrassed by his animal instincts. Ultimately, he buttons ups his clothes when these dire circumstances force him to show he can behave like a civilized man. Barbara Carrera's (Never Say Never Again) stunning image of beauty Maria, however, answers only to Dr. Moreau's commands. He raised her, and initially she keeps her distance despite Braddock's romantic interest. Although the tender, sensuous explorations are well done, viewers know we shouldn't trust the frolicking strolls along the beach as she gives in to her passion. Carrera doesn't really have a lot to do, but Maria's an innocent young woman, a blank slate being shaped by her in the wrong father figure and a lover who would take her away from the island when she's afraid to go. Nigel Davenport (A Man for All Seasons) as Dr. Moreau's gruff assistant Montgomery also has less to do than in the novel, but his cryptic attitude adds to the sinister isle orchestrations. He tells Braddock to get over the shock of it all, for he sleeps better on this island than anywhere else. Ironically, this man who chooses to be subservient because he lacks humanity becomes a problem once he does show sympathy.

Safari hats, white linen suits, and lacy women's frocks match The Island of Dr. Moreau's turn of the century talk of fantastic flying machines and underwater vessels. Candlelight, lanterns, gramophones, longhand journals, leather volumes, and pistols add vintage to the emerging gear, telescopes, globes, and specimens in jars. Laboratory equipment, medical beds, and giant needles create disturbing science alongside creepy teeth, gross smiles, and distorted faces making the audience recoil. Granted, some of the animal make up is weak compared to contemporary designs – the noses, wild hair, and horns could be laughable but they are not thanks to the serious abomination implications. One red scarf becomes a symbolic bright spot in the otherwise earthy palette while foreboding shadows around the buildings instill fear thanks to the natural and unnatural sounds beyond the halos of seemingly civilized light at the compound. Pans over the mountains capture the divine Caribbean locales, but the point of view more often looks out the windows or in past the verandas as if the cameras themselves won't leave this little oasis. Overhead spins parallel the disorienting jungle alongside well done chases and unseen monstrosities amid dangerous but beautiful bears and big cats in cages. Animal claws and growling effects set off disturbing mobs and vicious attacks before a fiery finale with blood on all hands accenting both the messianic savior visuals and Judas retribution hangings. While the classic horrifics and big performances make Charles Laughton's 1932 adaptation Island of Lost Souls, the 1996 Marlon Brando and Val Kilmer version is a little too messy despite being more faithful to the novel than the excised bookends here. With its horses, weapons, upside down tone, ravishing brunette, intelligent spark, revealing pace, and primitive design; this Island of Dr. Moreau at times feels more like the original Planet of the Apes. Perhaps we are do for another fully realized Wells interpretation, however I fear that today's over reliance on CGI talking animals, motion capture special effects, and spectacle transformations would miss the point of the piece.

Even if such shock value isn't as important as the scientific harbingers, the bitter parable with man meets beast violence here can still be uncomfortable for some audiences. This well known story of half animal, half human would also seem to get old eventually – audiences aren't meant to be surprised anymore by the monstrous warnings of combining man and beast for one's own gain. Nonetheless, The Island of Dr. Moreau remains a relevant conversation starter in today's era of cloning, stem cells, and healthcare debates, and this well done adventure with fine performances is worth a fresh look.

The Three and Four Musketeers

The Three and Four Musketeers Double the Swashbuckling Charm

by Kristin Battestella

Producers Alexander and Ilya Salkind (Superman) and director Richard Lester (A Hard Day's Night) infamously doubled the adventure with 1973's The Three Musketeers and its 1974 sequel The Four Musketeers. Despite the behind the scenes two for the price of one controversy, both films remain charming with supersized Dumas spirit.

Young d'Artagnan (Michael York) is off to join the King's Musketeers. Unfortunately, he immediately finds himself dueling with not one but three musketeers – the brooding Athos (Oliver Reed), boisterous Porthos (Frank Finlay), and religious but romantic Aramis (Richard Chamberlain). d'Artagnan seizes the chance to assist the musketeers in fighting the villainous Rochefort (Christopher Lee), henchman to the ruthless Cardinal Richelieu (Charlton Heston), who also conspires against the King of France with Milady de Winter (Faye Dunaway) amid stolen diamonds, secret letters, kidnappings, and revenge.

 Opening crescendos, swords slices, and clanging metal set the tone for The Three Musketeers, which is also subtitled as The Queen's Diamonds. Our young hero isn't quite ready for this outfit with training tumbles, bungling in the mud, and swinging and missing his quarry amid rowdy musketeers, snotty enemies, and sassy attitudes. The Three Musketeers is truly cavalier with bawdy drinking, chuckling errors, and winking asides – swords are cut in half, library shelves domino over, scaffolding below makes a lover look more heroic when he jumps out the window, and courtiers try to organize the king's dogs into playing life size chess in the park. The well edited comedic timing isn't slapstick, leaving room for French quips and tag team dead pans. Against odds melees versus the Cardinal's Guards provide a variety of action gags and fighting tricks accented by up close winks, overhead shots, and wide angles. The intense pace is done in camera – The Three Musketeers doesn't have to cut corners with editing or special effects because everyone's kick ass shows. Granted, the musketeers aren't fully developed as characters beyond their lighthearted distinctions and some humorous padding is unnecessary. However, the ensemble is up to any task with the right delivery and period gravitas be it intrigue or wit, providing charming moments that keep this familiar tale fresh without obvious cues. Unlike contemporary romps, The Three Musketeers doesn't need to show excessive raunchy thanks to subtle romantic winks and rowdy laundry house brawls. The coordinated thieving, horseback races, hidden passages, and betrayals culminate at the grandiose ball before The Four Musketeers brings viewers right back where we left off with narrations and credits showing highlights from The Three Musketeers. Now that d'Artagnan is a musketeer, the swashbuckling rescues continue as our eponymous soldiers must thwart the subtitled Milady's Revenge before battlefield canons and firing squad target practice where no one can hit a thing. Although serious talk on coups and religious strife becomes somewhat lost thanks to kidnappings, intercepted messages, primitive submarine inventions, and daring escapes; tender flashbacks deepen character histories. Swords, poisons, and feathers fly as hiding in the water trough ruses and stilts versus attack dogs don't work. In The Four Musketeers, the famous trio has more to do, yet their convenient rescues feel deus ex machina easy amid the disjointed plots – dilemmas are quickly resolved without the wither tos and why fors because the focus here is enjoying the good guys versus the bad guys and their daring fights upon frosty bridges and frozen lakes. The terribly risky but unique action looks like a lot of fun, keeping the swash in swashbuckler alongside deceptions, confrontations, and darker aspects of the novel that many adaptations gloss over in favor of Hollywood trite. A lot's happening with protestant versus catholic, England versus France, Buckingham plots, and front line encampments – the sieges, assassinations, and strangulations at times conflict with the humorous nunnery disasters. Villains montage over Tower of London captures and La Rochelle victories as carriage chases and superb one on one sword fights keep the kicking butt pace before a fiery finale with killers in disguise, executions, revenge, and consequences.

What's not to love about Michael York's (Romeo and Juliet) young, handsome, and sweaty d'Artagnan? The foolish farm boy cum wannabe musketeer is bonked on the head when picking his first fight but has all the roguish charm required – tipping his hat to a lady before promising to kill her other male friend and scaling the vines to her balcony even if he doesn't exactly make it to the window. d'Artagnan is earnest in love and war but is only granted a musketeer consideration because of his renowned father while he proves his worth. He's spirited but has a lot to learn as one woman after another tries to get into bed with him or use him for her own motives. d'Artagnan can't outwit the Cardinal but knows not to accept his duplicitous offer even as he blindly and blissfully does what the Queen tells him to do. The Three Musketeers is largely about him doing most of the bumbling or heroics himself with only peripheral musketeer assistance. By The Four Musketeers, however, d'Artagnan understands where Athos is coming from as the men bond in the tavern over the women they are supposed to love. Oliver Reed's (Paranoiac) Athos is an angry, ornery, sarcastic, and serious but drunken leader reluctant to join d'Artagnan's follies – the dark horse rarely seen in his musketeer frock. There has perhaps never been a more perfect casting, as Reed is definitely believable as a chip on his shoulder drunk wild man with a sword. The Four Musketeers recalls his ruined romance with Milady, and her murderous deception haunting Athos gives Reed some scene chewing when this not one but two movies ploy ironically doesn't provide much meaty drama for the ensemble. Fortunately, Athos becomes like an elder brother to d'Artagnan, threatening to kill anyone who touches a hair on his head – all for one and one for all and all that.

Richard Chamberlain's (The Thorn Birds) Aramis prays during a duel, but it is just another crafty musketeer ruse. In fact, Aramis barely talks in both films, merely standing around a lot and looking pretty when not in the steam bath. He does suggest one plan of action, but of course it goes completely awry with a kick in his groin to boot. Frank Finlay's (Othello) larger than life Porthos also knocks folks on the head with whatever is handy and picks the pocket of a man who's down for the count. Porthos is a gambler making bets on silly games when not eating and drinking in battle. He's sure to make a fighting spectacle in the marketplace so they can steal more wine, and his silly way of fighting – like dropping pots on the bad guys – always helps at the perfect moment. Both Aramis and Porthos are portrayed as a more circus styled duo where one can't seem to do anything without the other. Neither is fully developed and both seem to be there just because they have to be, bemusing as their moments are. Likewise, Raquel Welch (Fantastic Voyage) as dressmaker Constance Bonacieux has being a klutz as her main character development. She's perky, bouncy, and uses a delicate nightie to her advantage when not catching d'Artagnan's eye. Her husband's weakness and the Queen's confidence in her are merely plot devices before she herself is used in a kidnapping scheme in The Four Musketeers that plays for both rousing humor and shocking, well, shocks. 

It's immediately clear to start The Three Musketeers that Charlton Heston's (The Omega Man) Cardinal Richelieu is that selfish kind of Man of God. He has parades to himself and pays the bystanders to be there, stands out in his purple regalia at court, and talks out both sides of his mouth to the King. Richelieu uses the Queen's affairs with Buckingham to pressure the King, gaining information from the top as well as his tormented underlings. He captures people and tortures them only to release them with money so they will become his friend – effortlessly creating a network of spies and manipulation while he remains Teflon and Rochefort does his really dirty work. Richelieu has the most dialogue thanks to his numerous plots yet insists he has no personal enemies – only the enemies of France. Christopher Lee also looks even more nefarious with his eye patch and attitude as Rochefort. He's suave in contesting the Cardinal's plans even if he fears and hates him, and I would have loved to see these two together in more than some blink and you miss it moments in Julius Caesar. Lee has a rough, physical role and must match wits with each musketeer – even if he's always foiled. Likewise charming and deceiving in white or pristine in pearls, Faye Dunaway's (Don Juan DeMarco) Milady de Winter is undressed so all her clandestine weapons can be pulled from inside her frock. The ladies also have some dust ups before the boys come diving in through the window, and Milady has more to do in The Four Musketeers – such as luring d'Artagnan to her chamber for some poisonous daggers about the bed. Down shots over her bosom or close ups upon her lips reflect her temptation, and Milady knows how to use her femininity to serve her fatal nature or make her jailer fall in love with her and kill on command. Again, I'd loved to have seen more of her in league with Rochefort, but Milady remains ruthless right to the end.

Of course, when you end up shooting two movies for the price of one, the colorful production values between those pictures remain seamless with rousing scores invoking the medieval fun amid extensive duels, zany acrobatics, awning leaps, and clothesline spins. Such stunts happen fast and in camera, natural action rather than a superficial, slow motion effect. Horses, country roads, cobblestone squares, and authentic buildings accent the Spanish filming locations as bleak dungeons, barren quarters, and stained green patinas of the poor contrast the marble palaces, grand staircases, and massive chandeliers. Capes and big hats with even bigger plumes set off the regal carriages, red interiors, luxurious bedrooms, and vintage weaponry – daggers nestle inside the corsets even as the cinched bosoms nearly burst from the colorful frocks, fabrics, and sparkling parures. The costumes reflect one's station as the crowded, dirty, plain marketplace bustles against the pompous regalia and music likewise reflects the whimsical of the musketeers or leisurely at court. While some may find the complex fight choreography stagnate thanks to today's flash and dazzle whirlwinds; it's pleasing to completely see the difficult riverside sword action, frigate raids, and night time duels by lantern light. The actors earned their cuts and bruises in these melees with no CGI assistance in the realistic, well filmed battle scenes. Strangely, the DVDs offer options for widescreen or full-frame viewing, and the lack of subtitles can make audiences miss some of the sarcastic asides and quick quips. Thankfully, both videos offer half hour behind the scenes features with some of the late cast recalling the twofer controversies, elaborate fights, and incomparable Oliver Reed.

Despite some ups and downs in adapting the written humor and peril, The Three Musketeers is a straightforward story in full spirit of the novel. The superficial characterizations could have been deeper, but they don't have to be thanks to the roguish charm, courtly adventure, and witty personality continued in The Four Musketeers. Kids can laugh at the swashbuckler visuals while adults can chuckle at the cavalier innuendo. Though intended as one epic film split in two after the fact, The Three Musketeers and The Four Musketeers can be viewed together or separately for a timeless escapade.

Romeo and Juliet (1968)

Zeffirelli's Romeo and Juliet Remains Superb

by Kristin Battestella

Before there was YA, there was this 1968 British-Italian adaptation of Shakespeare's star-crossed lovers Romeo and Juliet. Their family feud and forbidden love at first sight leads to a whirlwind of love and death, and this version from director Franco Zeffirelli remains a superb potboiler of medieval splendor and ill-fated romance. 

 

Zeffirelli (The Taming of the Shrew) wastes no time to start Romeo and Juliet as the chorus fills the audience in on the rival houses, tense times, and new generation of old enemies. Accusations, sword fights, and marketplace quarrels put the action up front while overhead shots and group scenes provide scale. Interior conversations introduce the players – investing the viewer in the paired down old speaketh, rowdy tales of fairy dreams, and Capulet party crashing – and intimate up close shots become asides for the audience, pausing upon the fourth wall but not breaking it. Bawdy jokes, boys' fantasy, and the masked ball titillation invoke an effortless Bard alongside beautiful music, shy glances across the room, and in love, spinning until one is dizzy innocence. Though colorful, there's an of the past, firelight patina, and Romeo and Juliet moves quickly as minstrel's lyrics and villainous threats sow the seeds of this love story made all the better because it is so tragic. The familiar but pretty laments and undeniable prose arrive with the balcony scene forty minutes in, and I wish the publishing industry and category romance wasn't intentionally designed for formulaic happy ever after and instead made room for dark romances like Romeo and Juliet to come back on the bookshelves. The fun medieval festiveness gets out of the way early, and Romeo and Juliet becomes increasingly serious as our eponymous couple risks life for love. Their marriage comes by the intermission, the family fallout dominates the last half hour, and the whole whirlwind upheaval actually only takes a few days. Rival parents turn up their noses at home while hectic street fights and the too many heads in the mob lead to a rumble that irrevocably interferes with this young love – a relationship that can both simultaneously end this family feud peaceably or fuel it to a bitter finale. We root for a wedded escape to Mantua, but epic turns rise in the last act with deception and misunderstandings. Despite knowing of the preventable daggers and poisonous mistakes, Romeo and Juliet grips its audience from start to finish fifty years hence as boys choir vocals and maidens tossing flowers lead to torch-lit crypts of youth lost and #trueloveisdead crescendos.

  

Both my mother and sister refer to this Romeo and Juliet as “the one with Olivia Hussey,” and indeed her beautiful innocence and natural performance stand out here. I love her hair, too! At fourteen, Juliet isn't ready for her parents to marry her off – she's reluctant to dance and shy, peering over the shoulders of the adults at the concert. Upon seeing Romeo, however, she quickly learns the tease. It's not wrong to touch her hand, but lips are for prayers; this is a sweet sin they've discovered, yet he can't expect satisfaction on the first night! Love has already blossomed, and Juliet is distraught to learn this boy is extra forbidden. Naturally, they plan to marry, and it's easy to be swept up in their happiness and idyllic hopes that love will cure all. Unfortunately, Juliet is immediately torn between her husband and her family – as alas, they aren't one and the same. Maybe if her vain parents had been paying more attention to Juliet and not treated her like an extension of themselves to use in their feud, none of this would have happened! Instead, they prefer Romeo's head on a platter and their obedient daughter hiding in her nurse's skirts, but Hussey's (Black Christmas) Juliet finds her backbone and chooses Romeo at dire costs – leaving her parents to learn their lesson the hard way. Of course, Leonard Whiting's (Frankenstein: The True Story) Romeo begins the play a truly romantic figure in love with being in love. Initially, he is infatuated with Rosaline – a girl he cannot have – and replaces her with the more taboo choice in Juliet. He's a bit flaky, and the popular Romeo gets by on his good looks and bad poetry. Fortunately, Romeo's true love revelation matures him overnight. He grows bold at the dance and pleads his balcony case, now understanding the prize beyond the humor and idea of romance. Our teen lovers are prepubescents becoming adults – childhood as we know it is a relatively recent social concept unknown to them – and Romeo and Juliet discover themselves in each other. It's a powerful awakening, but Romeo remains blinded by their love, thinking the fighting will cease and that he can maintain his loyalty to his friends as Juliet's husband. Rather than the newlyweds leaving Verona when they have the chance, Romeo tries to befriend Tybalt as a relative. Sadly, like Juliet's parents, The Montagues are useless, only bothering to show up when it is time to point fingers, and this young love isn't enough to trump the hate, anger, and vengeance enveloping Romeo and Juliet.

Call me crazy but I have always preferred Michael York (Logan's Run) as Tybalt in this Romeo and Juliet. Whether the Capulet cousin is despicable or not, he sticks to his jerkery and never claims to be anything other than spoiled. From Tybalt's point of view, Romeo and Juliet is a tinderbox ready to make or break either family. We should recognize his to the side ticking time bomb for what it is, and York makes his presence known in each of his scenes. Tybalt refuses Romeo's offer of friendship, escalating the street revenge and relishing the swordplay right to the end. By contrast, John McEnery's (The Land that Time Forgot) Mercutio is a jealous BFF who loses Romeo to Juliet. He must know where Romeo is at all times and insists Romeo partake in his attention seeking games. He's an annoying loudmouth, and as the Bard says, Mercutio may protest too much with his macho fronting. While its easy to claim homosexual innuendo, the relationship between Romeo and Mercutio goes deeper – Mercutio represents the time to put away childish things and the pulling girls' pigtails that Romeo must leave behind. This acclaimed ensemble takes turns as the devils or angels on the shoulders, and in some ways, the Nurse character in Romeo and Juliet can be as important as the leads. I saw a live play once where the Nurse wailed so far beyond comic relief that it became off putting farce! Thankfully, Pat Heywood's (Girly) Nurse is a fine companion to Juliet who alleviates the rigid parental demure with a touch of bawdy. She's happy to share secrets on love's behalf and be the couple's go between, and The Nurse is eager to make the rendezvousing couple marriage official alongside Milo O'Shea (Barbarella) as Friar Lawrence. These characters become the male and female allies for each half of the couple, supporting them where their parents do not with healthy hearth and church sanctity that inadvertently undoes just as much as it helps. The Friar dislikes Romeo dropping the safer choice in Rosaline, but he also hopes a proper union will mend the family fences – anchoring Romeo and Juliet with a godly undercurrent. Juliet wears a prominent cross (want it!), the lovers cross themselves or pray for each other, and secret meetings are held in the church or disguised as going to confession. Who are these Montagues and Capulets that would put asunder a love and faith that God has blessed with sanctuary and hope? Even after unfortunate crimes are committed, we still believe these kids didn't do anything wrong – save trying to overcome earthly grudges at a terrible price. Although he is only heard at the beginning and in the fatal finale, Laurence Olivier's behind the scenes assistance on Romeo and Juliet also offers a Shakespearean seal of approval for the ill-fated lovers here.

If ever there was proof that more movies should be filmed on authentic locations it is this Romeo and Juliet. The Italian scenery is totally superb – cobblestone courtyards, colorful marketplaces, and medieval churches immediately establish the Verona time and place. Tolling bells, velvet doublets, giant hats, and sword fights feel bona fide out of the past, and the ornate ribbons and beaded attention to detail sparkles on the divine women's robes. My mother's wedding gown was this so-called Juliet style, and I want this empire silhouette to come back. Though applauded for its age appropriate casting, the striped tights and in your face codpieces certainly add fuel to the bemusing juvenile fire. I liked Romeo and Juliet a lot, until I got to school and had to sit at my desk while we read the play aloud with horny little boys laughing at the “draw thy sword” puns. This began my early love/hate relationship with Shakespeare – I enjoyed the plays and numerous adaptations but hated how we were taught to treat dramas as mere textbooks. Fortunately, I never tired of Romeo and Juliet's soundtrack. The LP with its risque nude cover and matching booklet full of pictures from the film was one of my favorite records as a kid, and the score remains Greensleeves melancholy to match the visual cat and mouse and “What is a Youth” lyrics. Though innocent enough now, it all seemed so scandalous then. Who really opens the bed curtains hanging out in full view and stands naked in front of the window? The brief nudity can be skipped for the classroom, however, it's important for this couple to have a moment of unashamed bliss – the ironic orgasm and little death of the marital bed to be followed so soon by dying over a kiss and dagger sheaths. Romeo and Juliet trades hopeful dances for dark altars, veils, night weddings and day funerals that become one and the same.

Though this award winning version pairs down much, it can still be overlong at two hours plus with subtitles from the bare bones DVD necessary. There doesn't seem to be a tricked out Region 1 blu-ray edition either, yet this Romeo and Juliet remains a great place for Neo-Elizabethan or fanciful youths to meet Shakespeare. Were these titular kids just being stupid? Give it another few days and they would have gotten over themselves! Were meddling family, miscommunicating assistance, happenstance, or love really to blame? Despite its youth centric melancholy, Romeo and Juliet remains open for discussion with a bittersweet fate and timeless edge made better by the superb sixties meets medieval loss of innocence here.

A 90s Horror Roundtable

A Roundtable of 90s Horror

By Kristin Battestella

Some of the horror movies from twenty odd years ago are still slice and dice sardonic perfection – others…not so much!  Here’s a quartet of nineties scares both sweet and sour.

Dr. Giggles – “I hope you have protection.” It took forever for this ominously absurd 1992 90-minute slasher written and directed by Manny Coto (Star Trek: Enterprise) to arrive from Netflix! From the bloody animations and over the top opening credits to psych ward fears, gore, campus mayhem, and teen sex dangers, ingénue with a heart condition Holly Marie Combs (Charmed) has her hands full thanks to Larry Drake’s (L.A. Law) titular mental patient cum surgeon. I hadn’t seen this in years, but the quips and camp add memorable twists to the strict revenge, deathly duty, and ghoulish ethics. Yes, the so early 90s its 80s styles and teen scene fluff are bad. The attempted somber, emotional moments are unevenly mixed with stupid, then hip dialogue and teens singing the local mad doctor legend. Brief, goofy 50s flashbacks explaining the history and rehashing old cops make for too much typical tell instead of show cliché. Fortunately, the butchery plays into our natural healthcare fears, and the body count, fun deaths, and sardonic slice and dice matches the quick editing cuts. Modern slasher films try this funny and scary blend, but they don’t seem to have the personality. Although the pace here goes off the rails with an overlong ending and one too many sassy phrases after another, the horror/humor parody is well done. Indeed this is the genre where we glee over Giggles, quote Freddy Krueger, and dress as Jason for Halloween when we ought to live in fear of these killers. While this could have been a serious scary period piece or a straight slasher sex fest, that’s not the point of the imperfect witty fun here. Watch with tongue firmly planted in cheek, and remember, “Physician, heal thyself.”

Tales from the Crypt presents Demon Knight – John Kassir and his Crypt Keeper debut on the big screen with Hollywood in jokes and a self-referential frame for this 1995 tale of mysticism, religion, and action. Old fashioned good versus evil supernatural trappings, turncoats, possessions, and a myriad cast of characters including the wonderful William Sadler (Die Hard 2), creepy Billy Zane (Dead Calm) , Jada Pinkett (before the Smith), CCH Pounder (The Shield), Thomas Haden Church (Wings), Dick Miller (A Bucket of Blood), and Charles Fleischer (Who Framed Roger Rabbit?) keep the siege suspense twisting and turning. Granted, the rules for the heroes versus the demons and the keys to end the world explanations get a little hokey near the end, and the same old Pinkett action goes on a little longer than it should. Some plot points are corny, the battle finale creates a few plot holes, and though tense, there aren’t a lot of scares. Fortunately, the gore, nudity, and effects are all good fun, and the pace builds in a fine, natural progression. There’s sarcasm and humor, but also a reluctance or anger and seriousness from the ensemble to balance any clichés. I’m surprised this super sized Tales from the Crypt macabre has a bad rep, for the demon concepts are intriguing entertainment. 

Split Decision

Tales from the Crypt presents Bordello of Blood – Comedian Dennis Miller, Erika Eleniak (Baywatch), Corey Feldman (The Lost Boys), Chris Sarandon (Fright Night), and model Angie Everhart provide plenty of hammy and horny in this 1996 vampire romp. The bloody vamp make up, fiery effects, and gore are well done along with lots of T-n-A to match, and John Kassir voicing the Crypt Keeper is always a campy delight. The self-referential jokes are important, and this is a fun romp with all the bad innuendo one desires. There are even some history and religion plotlines amid the bad puns, too. Unfortunately, there’s some overreaching just for the thrills in the opening and closing bookends, nothing here is scary, and Miller always has time for just one more sardonic line – which misses most of the time. The balance between comedy and horror here just isn’t right – it should be better than it is, yet there is a trying too hard feeling adding to the confusion. Are we supposed to laugh with this or at it? Granted, the viewer should not expect to take this picture seriously with a cast like this, but most of the humor falls flat. I’d rather this had been a straight telling with the mood and wink of the Tales from the Crypt series and there isn’t a lot of repeat watch value. Although one should definitely not watch this edited on television, there’s enough sexy bad entertainment value here for late night frat party viewings. 

Skipper!

The Haunting of Hell House – I wanted to like this 1999 doubly supernatural Victorian tale of murder, ghosts, and betrayal starring Michael York (Logan’s Run) and an underutilized Claudia Christian (Babylon 5), but almost everything about it falls flat. Admittedly, York is phoning it in a bit, but he’s still more classy and graceful then whippersnappers like Andrew Bowen (MADtv) and Jason Cottle (Cthulhu) putting on faux airs – modern dudes not using contractions does not equal old speaketh, sorry. Focusing on Bowen’s stupidity and guilt as the main story line was a mistake, for the viewer could care less about his dilemma thanks to the nonsensical dreams and haunting film work. Seriously, some of the herky jerky visions look like an unloaded GIF or bad Photoshop! Though obvious as to its outcome, York’s plot is more interesting and the picture should have focused entirely on his sickness, haunting, and inner demons. It’s also incredibly frustrating that there is no apparent connection between the two plots – what should be the entire crux of the movie is simply a wasted opportunity. I’m glad this doesn’t go for cheap nudity or gore – the period fashions and settings are nice, too – but the style, tone, and dark palette still look too modern. The flashy title doesn’t have much to do with the Henry James source, either, and I’m surprised Roger Corman (House of Usher) was the producer. This could have been a nice story, but we get twists we don’t want and none of the shock or delight we desire. Pity.