Showing posts with label Opinion/Editorial. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Opinion/Editorial. Show all posts

02 July 2026

Neighbours 1985-89


The Neighbours Watch: 1985–1989

by Kristin Battestella


When Amazon revived the then-canceled Australian soap opera Neighbours in 2022, they also offered on demand episode batches from the show's thirty year history. However, these "iconic episodes" were abrupt highlights leaving frustrating story gaps and cliffhangers. Thankfully, the new Official Neighbours Classics YouTube Channel provides viewers like me who didn't see the eighties heights on Ramsay Street a chance to witness the entire saga in order. While bemusingly pleasant and perfect for background viewing, the 1985-89 seasons of Neighbours offer a lot of good, plenty of bad, and even some ugly pastiche. And I don't mean the mullets. I hate mullets!


Finding its Legs


Honestly, I'm not surprised Neighbours was initially canceled after its dull 1985 debut season before being rescued on a new network with the 1986 arrival of Anne Charleston as Madge Mitchell, nee Ramsay. I dislike her brother Max's gruff, Tom Ramsay's copycat replacement, and was also totally annoyed by the original Lucy Robinson and all the bad things that happen to her. To keep the cul de sac wholesome, Neighbours offers villainous meaty to contract guests like Andrea with the paternity lies or recurring high school pests like Sue Parker – giving them more attention than a main cast that isn't fully developed. The Classic YouTube channel options to watch single episodes or weekly blocks highlights this uneven story balance that permeates throughout Neighbours. Heavy plots and humorous to-dos are given equal weight with major crises resolved in a word. Contests and schemes can be so simple but serious kidnappings and thefts or medical emergencies are minor compared to the scandals of American soaps in the eighties. The starving old lady neighbour they don't really know and her sad dog are one of several compelling, unexpected storylines superior to the increasing teen drama, but on and off again relationships or pranks between characters are often forgotten the following week. The nature of any soap opera is to rinse and repeat, and marathoning now reveals just how much Neighbours continually recycles. This quickly becomes a disservice to Geoff Paine as Clive Gibbons, who is the hero doctor, class clown, or poetic sage of Ramsay Street as needed. His romantic plots are perpetually short term D.O.A.s contributing to the revolving guest door. Fortunately, Elaine Smith's former stripper Daphne Lawrence is our mature anchor; a strong independent character providing support to the youths while running her own coffee shop and doing right for herself. Her back and forth romance with Shane goes on too long amid several false starts with Daphne and Paul Keane as Des Clarke but their marital stories are superb. Anne Haddy's grandmother Helen Daniels is excellent in tackling all the ups and downs of raising a family, business dilemmas, and mid-life romance. She even gets a few unfortunately short-lived scandals! As a new viewer who had only see Amazon's piecemeal, it's great to see the entire rekindling between migraine inducing Madge and Ian Smith as lovable fuddy-duddy Harold Bishop. Basil begats Bouncer for a host of canine themed plots, and the Ramsay Street Olympics sets off what Neighbours does best – slice of life stories involving the entire ensemble. Cross country excursions gone wrong and lost in the bush stories here are better than the Revival's more recent Outback escapades because rather than focusing on guest villains, the suspense remains Ramsay and Robinson immediate.


Middle-aged housewives and grandmothers were the soap opera watchers of the day, but here those ladies are the ones who get things done. Neighbours is very good when the funny plots and serious stories are well interwoven. Madge learns to drive and Bouncer solves Helen's haunted apartment. Choir gossip has everyone believing Harold is an animal in the sack, and his car accident has not one but three ladies point fingers and taking him into their care. An entire episode is dedicated to poker playing men in one house and women playing scrabble in another, and it's high drama arguing about the funny money and dictionaries. Harold's bucks party also offers orange juice, Mozart, and his tie salesman mini me son David, and when The Ramsays and The Robinsons are forced to live together, the petty little tensions are delicious. Alan Fletcher – later to become Neighbours' Doctor Karl Kennedy – is here as a fill-in mechanic of the week, and the infectious introduction of Lucinda Cowden as Melanie Pearson is great fun. Annie Jones as Jane Harris is also a consistent delight. “Plain Jane Super Brain” goes through many important storylines with arcs and growth allowing the character to mature rather than stagnate. Postpartum depression was not often addressed in 1987, and initially this is a powerful plot for Daphne before the story devolves into the jealous husband feeling left out so the wife has to favor both man and baby. Amazon really dropped the ball in not providing all the classic episodes, as being able to see Daphne's exit in full is some of Neighbours' best. Myra de Groot as mother-in-law Eileen Clarke is likewise brilliant in everything from bad salmon mousse to remarrying Des' father Malcolm. Secret adoptions, pill abuse with a baby in jeopardy, depression, and starvation are excellent, emotional stories. The wedding cake is destroyed, love triangles commence, and the adult drama on Neighbours is leaps and bounds above the repetitive youth plots thanks to the spiteful crone that is Vivean Gray as Nell Mangel. Her hideous portrait is charming as is her Dear Georgette advice column. Mrs. Mangel and Eileen Clarke read tea leaves and misinterpreted psychic predictions ensue. We love to hate her even when Mrs. Mangel loses her memory and has a heart attack – using her health to earn just a bit of sympathy when she only has herself to blame if no one on Ramsay Street actually likes her except Bouncer. I'm glad Nell Mangel, Wedding Coordinator from Hell gets threatened for her meddling but also receives her own marital send off, for her departing flashbacks don't shy away from all the wonderful trouble she wrought.


Unfortunately by the late eighties, Neighbours skews younger and younger with the recast Lucy coming and going on school holidays for childlike stupids or attempted teen sophistication as needed. New kids crowd the Robinson house, and Alan Dale as Jim Robinson deals with lookalike women Ruth and Beverly when Zoe was better. Critical business ventures and financial Robinson ruin take a backseat while lawn mowing schemes repeat the departed Shane and Clive. Teens fail at frozen pizza experiments and problematic children become contrived tangents. Henry Ramsay gets on my nerves immediately, and it's tough to tell who is going to be permanent and who's just a guest with everyone after Russell Crowe's brief stint detracting from the core cul de sac. Why are the Italian guests stereotypical Lotharios? Neighbours finally has an Aboriginal but unfortunately negative story with a burial ground interfering in the Lassiter's hotel development. Stefan Dennis' manager Paul Robinson claims he respects their beliefs but presents the building plans as if what's best for The Daniel's Corporation is paramount for everyone. Losing the strong women who would object hurts Neighbours, and the unhealthy looking, thin, glassy eyed cast seems like the soap stardom is getting to them. Oft the bread and butter of stateside soaps, courtroom drama largely happens off screen, recounted after the fact while going house to house with food. So much food! Neighbours jumps the shark with a ridiculous, garish church sock hop, and a Yankee modeling executive suddenly dropping engagement diamonds on Jane is just a preposterous nothing burger. It gets old fast when Henry and Bronwyn bounce from house to house and ruin something every week. Helen has a stroke but it's more important that Henry blame Bronwyn for going back to school and not paying enough attention to him. His voice impersonations and murder mystery dress up are asinine not funny – coming off as dumb and desperate attempts to keep luring in young viewers. Weeks are spent on Nick and Sharon running away, on the road with a dollar to their name and shoveling chicken shit before rushing back to Ramsay Street at the first emergency. Instead of slice of life ensemble storytelling, Neighbours leans on youthful minutia that's really a disservice to the cast and the audience. By 1989, new characters are already borrowing from earlier stories and repeating the teen angst.




The Scott and Charlene Conundrum


Marathoning these weekly blocks, teen power couple Jason Donovan as Scott Robinson and Kylie Minogue as Charlene Mitchell are immediately insufferable with back and forth professions of love and fighting over the dumbest things flip flopping from episode to episode – sometimes in scene as needed. Repeated music montage flashbacks at the playground and rescues from blown up trailers can't disguise how their grating gets old fast. Even other characters question if they had a dime every time Scott and Charlene broke up over annoying money making schemes, idiotic scams, and their own stupidity. I get that they're teens with all over the place emotions. However their contrivances are one of the weakest stories on Neighbours, and I can't fathom how this was the most popular moment of the entire series. Today high schoolers marrying at seventeen just to move in with parents next door and have sex feels more backwoods than progressive. The measles scare the night before the wedding was their best moment, and I wish the nuptials had been Scott and Charlene's show exit. Scott fails his exams and goes job hunting on a skateboard; they literally lose cash constantly but people continually loan the couple money. Interesting dilemmas are shoved aside for more and more Scott and Charlene because no one knows how to live on love but them! Each teen becomes so distraught and delusional that their families apologize for wanting rent. Between arguing about his homework and her apprenticeship, each also gets the wandering eye in totally pure flirtations cum excuses for misunderstandings and repeated wedding flashbacks. They scream that if one walks out the door, the marriage is over but it's children playing Dynasty. That extramarital canoodling leads to Scott wanting to have a band aid baby, which is a terrible idea and everyone tells them so. Such a plot should have never been suggested, and Neighbours would have my utmost recommendation if I could skip over the Scott and Charlene melodrama. Our intrepid couple become the heroes of every story – uncovering corrupt business partners, nabbing incriminating photos of bad guys, offering wisdom to struggling couples, and resolving almost every plot with their innocent can do. Charlene's lucky coin goes missing and she cries to Scott's boss that he's working three jobs and can't spend time with her. So instead Charlene's departs and an obnoxious model tries to seduce poor, lonely Scott. Maybe Scott and Charlene marrying so frigging soon was actually a damn storytelling mistake? A scandalous book and murder plots on par with American soap malicious are dropped for yet another chaste kissing dilemma. Are we supposed to feel sorry for Scott because so many babes tempt him? Every frustrating non-dalliance drags on with Scott insisting he is right no matter how many others point out he is flat wrong. In the end he even blames the “backward” stereotypical Greeks for their restrictive values, and I cannot tell you how glad I was when Scott unceremoniously disappears.


Now then as to Guy Pearce as Mike Young – the impetus for this Neighbours excursion. I've been doing a Career Re-Watch of his oeuvre, but you would never know Pearce was going to become one of our best contemporary actors by seeing his mullet, baby face, and amateur delivery here. Despite appearing in more than 900 episodes, there isn't a whole lot for Mike to do except make the smoothies and eat the food in the background at the coffee shop. Of Neighbours' oft misguided musical attempts, Pearce's actually playing the saxophone is the most fun but it's used the least. After his earnest abusive introduction, most of Mike's storylines are the same girl troubles – first on and off with Nikki then off and on with Jane. There are random Canberra chicks, swimming babes, and more meaningless flings, and Jane shoves a cake in his face over it. She worries that every time he takes a trip, he falls for another girl, and I'll be damn Neighbours has been giving Mike the same stories for forty years! Even Bouncer gets more adventures than Mike. He bullies an Aboriginal ex-schoolmate but it's just a prank, and the show experiments with Mike going bad or doing humorous skits because Neighbours doesn't really know what to do with him despite the well done post-Daphne tears and revenge. Des and Mike as bachelor dads in search of a nanny would have been a great sitcom, but Mike's too often the sidekick with increasingly less appearances. Granted, Pearce asked for filming breaks to pursue less than stellar films but the gaps in his episodes reveal how little he was actually used. The Bronwyn romance just repeats the Jane school drama and love triangle with Henry. When Mike finally becomes a teacher, he's caught in a kissing a student plot before a sabbatical on his motorcycle. Paralyzing Jenny in a motorcycle accident is arguably Mike's biggest story yet it all happens off screen. His leather jacket means Mike has an attitude now, and it's ironic that sullying the character actually gives Pearce more to do. Of course, Henry's comedy undercuts the dark dream sequences and wheelchair-bound guilt, and the disabled obligations are resolved with little fanfare. After repeat teaching strife, Mike is the villain against Des and Jane's engagement, leaning over people's shoulders with passive aggressive petty insults. The whole street tells him to grow up, boo hoo yet feigns smiles for his Ramsay Street birthday party – until Henry runs over his saxophone. Mike admits his duplicity when trying to win back Bronwyn just for spite, and had Mike been a deceptive social climber sooner, it might have been more interesting. Instead these brooding non-stories wasted time with him Neighbours did not have. Happy couples want him to be an enthusiast best man, so his drunken one night stands and pithy bitchings are suddenly dropped. One wonders why Neighbours had him return for a handful of late 1989 episodes when new viewers probably wouldn't know who he is or why he's off to visit his injured mother with no real exit. I can certainly see why Pearce was initially displeased with his original time on Neighbours, for he looks healthier in the end, as if the burden of Neighbours had been lifted from his shoulders. That single dangling crescent moon earring though, would wear!


Messy Declines and Departures


Though once pleasant nostalgic viewing, by the second half of 1989, I am pretty over Neighbours, too. It's frustrating to read that the producers deliberately mirrored Scott and Charlene in other characters, continually referenced them onscreen, and didn't even change the credits because they didn't want viewers to know they were completely gone. The revolving cast door only gets more crowded with obnoxious kid do-overs and even younger tween kisses. Interesting characters like pesky aunt Mrs. Chubb, banker Penelope Porter, tacky stepmother Gloria Lewis, and Jane's selfish mother Amanda Harris are too brief. Overheard secrets on Katie's walkie talkie sow dissent about how everyone really feels in a deliciously simple way to drive several plots at once but the conflicts are resolved too quickly. The grating dialogue for Joe Mangel is also extremely jarring, and it's rich that he becomes the hero over his ex-wife's new abusive husband when he is a cruel, heavy handed father to little Toby. Helen's stroke and her struggle to paint again should have been primary, but another crazy seductress makes moves on Jim, and for all the funny lighthearted things that make Neighbours so cheery, the show seemed to realize the need for darker, if now predictable stories as the eighties sunshine waned. New people are treated as filler when too many regulars have breaks around the same time, and recurring ladies like Anne Scott-Pendlebury as Hilary Robinson should have always been permanent. Hilary and Mrs. Chubb's too brief humorous moments together could have been such gold! A big to-do is made whenever someone comes back from a trip/break/excuse, and then the episode is spent filling in the returning person on what we've been watching – as if Neighbours deliberately kept resetting for viewers each week in lieu of what else to do. Many storylines are isolated rather than true dialogue confidences, and characters who don't usually interact onscreen are presumed to be BFFs in the know as the lazy gardening partnerships repeat and loud, boorish tangents overtake important moments. Hilary feigns injury sympathies just as Mrs. Mangel had and every week a different kid is running away when not having another pet mishap. Neighbours copies itself when provocative drama like Sharon starving herself is better than Bouncer in peril and Toby's weekly sadness. Linda Harley-Clark as Harold's hippie daughter Kerry Bishop is initially an independent activist who nannies in Des' house where she and their kids thrive. Unfortunately, Kerry's then inexplicably paired with Joe and is forced to repent on each of her principles. Kerry frees birds, feeds homeless, and protest kangaroo products yet she is unnecessarily portrayed as the villain who doesn't stop to consider if her actions will make the hotel look bad.


Instead of prioritizing well done extortion plots, terrible dads, and serious family ensembles, characters bend for the dilemma of the week in foreseeable, silly plots or relationship misunderstandings because there are three engaged couples at the same time. Fortunately, Hilary moves to the cul de sac with a mysterious son, and the Sharon/Matthew/Nick triangle would have been far more intriguing had the latent homosexual angle been utilized, but I realize Neighbours in the eighties wouldn't dare. Hilary also has a romance and tries to be hip by going to see Friday the 13th Part 6 with the kids. The show returns to its roots with feuding Ramsays and Robinsons cutting each other's trees and dyeing the pool purple. Everyone has a health emergency at the same time, and it's actually pretty fun, unlike the contrived threats on Todd and Katie coming or going until Katie is actually written out after being unnecessarily prominent. Thanks to her being overused in every major story line, Jane's exit is also abrupt, grinding Neighbours to a halt as elder abuse plots and the briefly returning Clive can't save all the pointless misunderstandings. However I'm so glad to see the back of Henry especially after the radio show obnoxiousness where everyone else did his work for him off the air. Paul's villainy begins by bribing a councilman for a variance, but of course he's screwed over and repeatedly scammed by rookie employees, too. Fiona Corke's Gail Lewis is Paul's perfect match, but her story unfortunately degrades into silly baby brain shoplifting convictions. Most of their marriage fallout strangely happens off screen, yet it also makes the audience realize how impossible triplets would have been on the show. Paul's dramatic race to the airport is quite sad, and Gail's exit is another huge loss for Neighbours – leaving Des filling numerous gaps with phone calls from absent people before recounting everything to Melanie. Paul's on break so Des manages the hotel but then Des takes a break so Jim's running everything while Clive and Melanie now live in Des' house. There's no rhyme or reason to who is where with even a new minister on Ramsay Street as a love interest played for laughs with Melanie – but at least we see the origin of her pig collection! Even the Dear Georgette column returns, as if characters are defined by their jobs but jobs are interchangeable. There's even a clothes swap meet where prominent garments end up on different characters because personal style no longer matters. New people not in the credits, residents referred to no longer on the show, returning people inexplicably picking up where they left off – viewers stopped tuning in to Neighbours because we don't know who's on the dang show.


When updated titles finally happen, the poolside hi-jinks are recreated with new people as if audiences aren't supposed to notice the difference. Neighbours chose to stagnant, repeat, and replace without ever moving forward, and I'm amazed the soap survived this eighties cast exodus. 1989 was really a struggle to finish; I gave 1990 a few months but just didn't care about these strangers on Ramsay Street. Did I like Neighbours? Yes! I'm glad I had the opportunity to watch all the sunshine eighties heights. The Classic YouTube Channel format provides far more entertainment than Amazon's giveth and taketh. There were segments I thoroughly enjoyed, but the good is often too interlaced with the bad. Does Neighbours have the repeat value of stateside soap opera titans? That I don't know. I need to see Neighbours' 2010 “Who pushed P.R.?” drama in its entirety to be sure.



13 May 2026

Reassessing Repossessed

 

Reassessing Repossessed 

by Kristin Battestella


The Exorcist star Linda Blair is all grown up and, according to our theme song, “re-re-repossessed” in the 1990 head-spinning, pea soup spewing, oft-maligned spoof Repossessed. Priest Leslie Nielsen (Dracula: Dead and Loving It) is on the devilish case, escalating to the Pope saving souls on live television and an infamously low 11% Rotten Tomatoes score – if viewers remember Repossessed at all. With today's cult-like administration practices, however, it's time to reassess how the religious and political satire of the much derided Repossessed may have actually been ahead of its time.


As a kid, Repossessed was one of my VHS staples. 1990 was still very eighties and Reagan-esque, so anything scandalous with tawdry nudity was treasured. When the bimbo in the front row at Father Leslie's lecture is showing too much leg, he asks her to pull down her dress. She of course responses by pulling the top down and letting the bazongas free. Re-watching Repossessed now, there were many more anticipated punchlines and rim shots that still made me laugh – much to the chagrin of my never-seen-it-before husband who was both annoyed at my predictions and didn't find any of it all that funny. Such datedness is indeed much of the problem with Repossessed. Like new viewers who won't understand the Glenn Miller jokes on The Golden Girls, Repossessed is so overly reliant on eighties scandals, headlines, and pop culture moments that you really had to be there to get it. You may think that makes Repossessed bad now, but just think how all today's quip a minute movies will be undiscernible in forty years!




Demure, yuppie housewife Blair (Witchery) who's supposed to have the ideal conservative life is once again possessed by the devil, who discovers that exorcisms on television are the gateway to spreading demons to leaders across the globe thanks to America's sanctimonious floundering over the likes of Jerry Falwell and Jessica Hahn. Telethon cameos from Body by Jake, Jesse Ventura, and more people modern viewers probably won't recognize anchor music montages to “Devil with the Blue Dress On” but, do folks today even know that song? Yes, it's busy and messy, descending into mixed meta, slow chases, and the Pope on guitar. Repossessed does not always succeed in its larger satire comedy thanks to a muddled, stupid finale designed for the MTV generation. Had Repossessed had a more finely tuned script or edit then, maybe it wouldn't have flopped into obscurity. The “Father Mayii” name in itself is hysterically genius to every twelve year old.


Anthony Starke (The Magnificent Seven) is also here as Nielsen's priestly sidekick, and for a time, to me as a precocious kid anyway, it seemed that he'd cornered the market on satirical genre fare thanks to the likewise shrewd Return of the Killer Tomatoes. Blair and Nielsen also seem to be having a great time with the self-referential performances, confronting Blair's horror typecasting while Nielsen lampoons it – like when our priest is caught on camera calling his agent asking how to get out of this. For all the nostalgic eighties floral prints, bright colors, and big hair; Repossessed actually looks good when it comes to the expected Exorcist effects, making one wonder what might have happened if the story was told straight. However, to be so chilling was not Repossessed's intent. Unfortunately, viewing Repossessed again under the orange cloud that is Trump brings the film disturbingly full circle. The devil shall enter in via the perfect housewife! How can he spread evil to the masses? Television!


When Repossessed originally bombed at the box office in the Fall of 1990, Trump was already a well-known, notorious businessman with his Art of the Deal ghostwritten fakery – as parodied in much better in Back to the Future Part II. It wasn't until the 2004 reality show The Apprentice that Trump was re-imagined as savvy cool wealthy business leader who could fire at will. Television had made the now seemingly downright demure scandals of the eighties mocked in Repossessed, and the reality show era likewise capitalized on creating scripted shock value. Now, the daily absurdities and constantly escalating extremes of our current regime make Repossessed perhaps seem even weaker because it doesn't go far enough. We were too innocent then to think you could pretend to be Jesus and piss off the Pope and just get away with it. Our husband and son just want their possessed mom back sans the demonic drama and split pea soup. American families currently suffering the increasing sociopolitical consequences can certainly relate to the desire for normalcy. Devil with a blue dress blue dress blue dress devilwithabluedresson...we impeached a president for lying about a stain on a blue dress but now we let them tear down the East Wing and hawk edited Bibles with Trump's gold seal of approval. Make it make sense!


Even if you don't get all the pop culture puns or televangelist taboos and thus some of the jokes fall flat, there's a lot of Repossessed that's eerily all too familiar thanks to the contemporary political climate. Don't dismiss the comedy performances and social commentary just based on that Rotten Tomato score. Reassess Repossessed and heed the horror comedy parable.


07 April 2026

Re-Watching American Gladiators is....Weird

 

Re-Watching American Gladiators is....Weird

by Kristin Battestella


I used to love the original American Gladiators. However, upon discovering the American Gladiators livestream channel in the middle of the 1997 seventh and final season, watching now is....weird.


The rah-rah Americana attitude is obnoxious with over the top, contrived macho dominating the supposedly competitive sportsmanship, leaving a very bitter aftertaste on the actual sporting events. Re-starting the livestream with Season 1, on the other hand, provides a much different viewing experience. This was 1989 with less polished event facilities and straightforward filming explaining the competition and the requirements on sports agility and skill. Difficulty is placed over entertainment ease, and the gladiators praise the impressive contestants between events. It's surprising how little protective equipment participants like actor Billy Wirth (“Death by stereo” of The Lost Boys) wear – leading to vicious, competitive moments. Sometimes the contestants are often better than the gladiators in what may be the best moments of the series. I can deal with the retro hokeyness and garish, poorly lit arena, but the mullets and Aquanet hair are out of control! Fortunately, Season 2 remains similarly focused on the events with a more streamlined production and only a small amount of gladiator turnover. The series premise hypes the competitors from across America, but as much as we root for recurring contestants through preliminary, quarterfinal, and championship rounds; viewers are here to see the gladiators. Although their numbers expand from eight to ten, the gladiators are quickly treated as interchangeable, some even wearing the same costumes like Sunny and Gold or reusing the same name like Lace. The athletes start in jackets and pants, but sexism slowly settles in with the women increasingly referred to as girls. Female competitors wear pink or yellow halter tops and tiny shorts while the men remain modestly clothed in gray and teal.



By Year 3, the early reality show vibes begin to takeover with more bulked up gladiators adding macho asides even as the events give them less to do. In the Assault event, contestants have the chance to showcase their aim and dodging abilities while the gladiators merely fire tennis balls that could have been done by a machine. In the NFL special episodes, they “let” the women gladiators fire as a way to “include” them. It makes viewers wonder why the opposite sex can't always compete in Assault. The football meets wrestling Powerball challenge also makes the gladiators look like top heavy, unskilled bodybuilders and slow on their feet former athletes, losing against better suited amateur contestants and Olympians. Thankfully the Joust and Hang Tough are fun because they are one on one competitions. There are likable gladiator moments where they answer questions or share something of their personalities. Longer interviews with gladiators detailing their training specifics, regimes, and calorie counts are quite interesting. However, these become few and far between as the female gladiator costumes become more and more skimpy. The men can be covered head to toe but the women must constantly adjust their bikini-style tops from near nip slips and pick the wedgies of their tiny thong-style bottoms during events. At some point, it doesn't matter which gladiator is doing what event. We don't get to know them beyond their hardcore shouts at the screen and trite sports platitudes while they're pumping iron in between contests. Instead of their real names with “Ice” or “Zap” as their middle name cool, anonymity becomes part of the gladiator model. Promotions to join the gladiator fan club or see them on tour are more important than whether you see Turbo, Tower, Thunder, or Titan. Siren is exploited for her hearing disability amid Baywatch crossovers and international spin-offs where the gladiators become more like caricatures. Why are all the women blonde? Why are the Black gladiators treated stereotypically as if they all look the same? The commentators increasingly intrude on the participants with silly interviews and nicknames while repeating the catchphrases of Black contestants with backhanded racist comments about how fast they run.


Sexist commentary also increases, with female athletes complimented for their beauty and grace rather than their athleticism. The gladiators themselves seem over it as if they don't want to be there, and the voiceovers become increasingly juvenile with redundant platitudes when not sticking the microphone in a competitor's face before a critical event or immediately after an upsetting loss. Some wrongs are corrected in Season 5 with a more colorful set and time once again for gladiator chats; but at this point, it's just easier to mute the television so we don't have to hear the fluff dialogue. Maybe American Gladiators should have been a half hour series with no attempt at personality and just focused on the events? American Gladiators really jumps the shark with the Season 6 NYPD vs LAPD special. Either the raging out gladiators really hate them or the police aren't that good, for most of the events score no points and the commentators have plenty of arresting or handcuffed quips. The Olympics special is equally cringe, favoring the gladiators instead of the athletes while the classic Bill Conti (Falcon Crest) theme is made unnecessarily edgy, losing the unique and triumphant fanfare. Initially I could leave the livestream on in the background like any other sport, but the constant iN yOUr FACE! projection becomes mind numbing, making it easy to tune out entirely. The contrived tension overtakes the sports intensity, and the gladiators come to reinforce the notion that the stronger you are, the more of an asshole you must be. They sneer and rip off players' helmets, put contestants out with concussions, and revel in firing at competitors – saying they are hunters going after their prey. But I guess it's okay when the contestants do back flips to rouse the crowd and get their shirts ripped off to show their muscles.


In the 1989 debut, audiences might have been able to believe the competition was real; that anyone in America could truly prove their mettle. American Gladiators is best when it focuses on the competitive challenges like Whiplash, Tug of War, or the Gauntlet where the gladiators are directly engaged in the action. Unfortunately, events seem increasingly rigged and contrived like this is the WWE. Silly events like Sky Deck and Swingshot overtake more athletic competitions. What is the point of The Maze? The editing of events is likewise apparent as some contests are merely told of rather than shown. Injuries increase and at the ready replacements step right in be it contestant or gladiator. New gladiators appear randomly with no explanation as if there is some Olympus stable where they all spring forth. There's no hugs or any respect. Viper seems downright menacing, and the commentators embellish actions as if this is Major League. Any interviews with gladiators are filled with enraged threats amid referee controversies and token female commentators. Carrying contestants off the mat and making the gladiators unlikable seems to go directly against the spirit of the series' premise. The seasons are also ridiculously long with twenty-six episodes for tournaments that should have been half that. Marathon viewing such as this illumes all the flaws and has little repeat value once you know who wins. Alas, we return to Season 7, where the full of itself macho is overwhelming and insufferable as angry gladiators growl at everyone. The final runner up is actually now a Georgia congressman who left his second wife over an affair with a fellow Texas congresswoman. Ironically, this sums up American Gladiators in many ways, for the extreme Americana hype on display then indicates to a viewer now where some of these gladiators' political leanings today surely lie.


Apparently everything that could go wrong did go wrong for American Gladiators with behind the scenes issues, compensation disputes, steroid rumors, and grueling international tours clearly taking their toll. The rah-rah of it all represents a specific time and place, when the nineties were good and we had reason to be so frivolous in sport. This nostalgia means I can't quite tear myself away from watching even as the horrendous hype holds the mirror up to our country now. I liked Turbo best then, but re-watching today I'm much more aware of the rainbow vibe. Will this proposed new version of American Gladiators on Amazon Prime properly address coed mix gender challenges and lean into that camp potential? Of course not. MGM's goal is to appeal to the white male sports viewer with the livestream's commercials promoting the Prime sports packages. Edgy graphics with split screens, angled photography and that espn2 cool will not fly today. Nor would seemingly insightful interviews with gladiators admitting they are aggressive and cocky because they can be. Who wants to watch that?


American Gladiators is a sociological train wreck to view today; a time capsule ironically capturing our country's current attitude that makes for a weird, uncomfortable re-watch.


26 September 2025

Goodbye Hulu Sprint 👋🏻

 

Goodbye Hulu Sprint 

by Kristin Battestella


I was already working thru my Hulu queue to cancel it at the end of the year thanks to Disney's forthcoming complete takeover and unfortunate absorption of the platform. However, last week I expedited my final viewings and ended my subscription (held since Hulu began!) in response to Jimmy Kimmel's unconstitutional suspension. As Rose says, “I've never liked her,” and despite Disney's walk back on the decision, we must endeavor to do our small part in boycotting morally bankrupt entities. See also Target.


Ironically, these mystery miniseries, eerie documentaries, and Hulu original horror movies are middle of the road anyway – content designed for marathon filler perhaps rightly lost in the catalog instead of standing out by maximizing each's potential subject matter.



A Nasty Piece of Work Intertitles demand an employee show initiative and adapt to achieve executive solutions because every task is a test in this 2018 Into the Dark Hulu/Blumhouse production. Ironic carols, exasperating attempts to impress the boss, shattered mirrors, and out of breath stress reiterate the corporate competition, desperation over the Christmas bonus, and the relatable, at the end of the cubicle tether. Unfortunately, late boss with the $75k golf clubs Julian Sands (Gothic) is cutting the huge executive bonuses so it's only fair that he give no bonuses to anyone. There is however a chance for promotion hobnobbing at his Christmas party amid jackass rivals, their trophy wives, and drunken innuendo from the boss's domineering spouse. The antique weapons, masks, and passive aggressive pranks are awkward, and the self-aware horror movie jokes about a guy hiding in the house walls are on the nose. The situation moves fast and gun play happens early, but the action comes at the expense of the taut Christmas on edge tension. Waxing on ballistics, security cameras, intruder alibis, or how to bury a body in the backyard are part of the promotion pop quiz, but the classism and corporate extremes driving us to violence should be a deeper commentary than it is. Quoting Dr. King while the Black servant scrubs the blood on the carpet or racism about not knowing the names of the ethnic catering staff are treated as throwaway moments. The decent employee is no longer the good guy once he's decided to stay rather than walk away from this how far are you willing to go horror challenge. Likewise, we don't feel sorry for the jerky rival crying that he's up to his neck in debt to maintain the upward mobile facade as their secrets come back to haunt them. Bathroom jump scares and wives used in the tit for tat lead to twists that our contenders say they aren't falling for again, but the predictable injuries and the lack of willingness to leave this so-called interview mount. Are we supposed to laugh at the boss messing with people because there's still a Schrodinger's chance they might get the job? Of course in the real world, the low man wouldn't be promoted, just blamed for the crimes committed herein, and this strays from the allegorical potential, losing steam despite being only seventy-eight minutes. Shouting, gunshots, and chases descend into back and forths played for illogical sardonic while one person runs away for comic relief and the staff peek around the corner. Cult men in white suits are tossed in for an easy solution with more jokes deflating the horror. This seems content to go for the lowest hanging concept rather than fully execute what the horror is saying, and it's up to the audience to know all the quips, pop culture references, and cliches to extrapolate our own views. I stayed for Julian Sands. I miss him, but despite the self-contained holiday possibilities, this just left me wanting much more.



Shardlake
Angry Cromwell Sean Bean (Sharpe) accents this four episode 2024 Disney/Hulu original based on the C.J. Sansom books. Doublets set the Tudor scene alongside the ecclesiastic mood, however the dark photography and modern digital gradient make this look contemporary and generic rather than period patina. Drone aerial footage is unnecessary as is orchestration that calls attention to itself. Arthur Hughes (The Innocents) is our titular hunchback investigator, but he has a scowling chip on his shoulder and the colorblind casting is reduced to being the murder suspects. Annoying sidekicks and comic relief hamper the case while Shardlake also talks to himself in the mirror. The dialogue is well spoken with fine performances when the ensemble is allowed to sit still and discuss the gory murder, precarious politics, and religious corruption. Unfortunately, such scenes are often spliced with the initial head chopping murder just in case the audience forgot it. Solving the crime should be straightforward; but stolen relics, suspicious hooded figures, sodomite finger pointing, and macho confrontations deviate from Cromwell's ultimate goal to blame the secretive brotherhood and seize the church assets. Already we're spinning tires with suicides, contrived bog perils, and silly chases about the steeples. Captivating moments forcing the viewer to pay attention are few and far between, sacrificed for deliberately cryptic ominous for the sake of it padding and run of the mill contemporary pace. Scenes away from Shardlake are frustrating with fatal toppers just for shock value and no apparent point to the second episode. Our crippled lawyer is put on the rack amid Boleyn twists, boat trips, and instantaneous riding to and fro – detouring when we should never leave the scene of the monastery crime. Clues and evidence the audience saw in the first episode are not deduced until the last hour via ghostly hints, repetitive plot points, and try hard flashbacks. Mounting deaths, uneven filler, and forced romance are as needed before an extremely busy final fifteen minutes tries to wrap up everything tossed at the screen. Even Sean Bean asks how has this murder has not been solved already, and the viewer has long lost interest in what should have been a two hour mystery.


Witches: Truth Behind the Trials – This 2024 six episode National Geographic documentary series begins with forty-five minutes dedicated to Salem before exploring the earlier European persecutions. The hyperbolic female narrator punctuates frenetic re-enactments while ominous, intrusive music emphasizes the sensational punchlines. Shadowed experts are filmed before dark backdrops, intercut with eerie imagery instead of being able to speak in full on the radical ministers. Opening with Salem's hysterical finger pointing at servants of color is meant to grab viewers. However there's nothing new presented and the irony of our current puritanical tailspin is apparent. Episode Two goes back to the German origins of the Malleus Maleficarum laying down the witch hunting rules, but the medieval belief in witches as both harmful outcasts or useful sages remains sensationalized. Innocent women are executed by the territorial theocracy thanks to the lack of scientific understanding. Self-appointed God-fearing committees get tips from conforming villagers about who's in league with the devil, and the invention of the printing press spreads all the torturous details. Naturally the Third Scotland episode sets the scene on Halloween, and despite the regional focus with different persecution extremes, each entry feels repetitive with a misguided tone hitting the viewer over the head on the scandalous accusations. Protestant versus Catholic takeovers against earlier folk practices as a reason for the hysteria is only briefly mentioned, but the Witch Act of 1604 means James VI's divinity guards him against witchcraft plots. Public humiliations gaining confessions are called “pressure” not “torture,” and this true crime style focuses on a few famous names whilst ignoring the massive scale of what happened. Nat Geo used to be quality but this puts shock strobe over history for a banal, crowd-pleasing overview. The short, superficial episodes feel redundant yet six episodes is overlong. This subject is now more important than ever, but I quit halfway through because Wikipedia's Witch Trial article series contains far more detail.


21 April 2025

Spotlight Bonuses!

 

It's both pleasant to be recognized for one's work yet also a little daunting when the focus turns on oneself. Fortunately, I had a delightful experience with the Women InSession Podcast at InSessionFilm.com when it was my turn in the hot seat for a Critic Spotlight episode!



In addition to listening to my horror cred and history as a film critic, you can also read my latest Author Spotlight in the current #Grandparents Issue of Search Magazine!


Although you can still follow me on Instagram, if you're on Blue Sky you'll also note I've created a second handle for my Kbatz Krafts DIY. In addition to my Spotlight moment, I have another DIY Article in Search, too!



Visit the Podcast and Video tags for more upcoming appearances or peruse past Search Magazine excitement including:


Mary Tyler Moore Retrospective

The Bee Gees!

Friendship Thru Film