Nostalgic Musical Merriments

Nostalgic Musical Merriments!

by Kristin Battestella

These sentimental and comforting but no less fun and informative musicals, movies, and documentaries provide nostalgic feeling and most importantly, some great tunes.

The Beatles: Eight Days a Week – The Touring Years – This hour and forty-five minute 2016 documentary from director Ron Howard (Apollo 13) traces the band's early formation and their epic tours from 1962 to 1966 with new interviews from Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr alongside archive film with George Harrison and John Lennon audio. Vintage photos accent concert footage of “She Loves You,” “Twist and Shout,” “I Saw Her Standing There,” “Can't Buy Me Love,” “Help,” “Nowhere Man,” “Don't Let Me Down,” and more classic tracks. Cues from the likes of “Please Please Me,” “I Wanna Hold Your Hand,” “I'll Cry Instead,” “A Hard Day's Night,” “I Feel Fine,” and of course “Eight Days a Week” set off onscreen timelines and locations – a linear narrative from Liverpool innocence and the risk of failure in America to initial newsreel interviews getting their names wrong and The Fab Four's humor over the baffling Beatlemania. More clips and radio reports capture the era as the relatable group transcended cultures thanks to welcoming, colorless music and freedom of expression. Their compassion was more important than the hysteria, and the Four historically refused to perform segregated concerts while writing fast on the road and sharing their experiences through songwriting. After their simplistic love songs made to appeal to the masses quickly caught on, they laughed at the thought of their music's lasting impact on western culture. However with the A Hard Day's Night movie spurring the out of control teen movement, John, Paul, George, and Ringo began to realize how big they really were. 30,000 seat tours and everybody wants a piece of them over the sheer logistics and money to be made even if the amplifiers couldn't carry the sound at Shea Stadium. They turn to the recording studio to express themselves deeper despite the rapid singles pace and album release pressure – uniting against touring as drug use escalates. New interests in art, Indian music, and life not lame photo sessions lead to album growth while controversies, negative interviews, and persona non grata threats begat apologies and increased security. The circus was no longer about the music, and the Sgt. Pepper sessions provided a chance to freely experiment with mature, innovative sounds rather than catering to the masses on the road. No longer mop top boys, our long haired sophisticated men go their own way before final, rare footage of the 1969 Savile Row rooftop concert. Although this may be nothing new to longtime, hardcore fans, this behind the scenes focus is a great starting point for new, younger listeners.

Dirty Dancing – My sister the dancer and I watched this 1987 hip grinding fest starring Jennifer Grey (Ferris Bueller's Day Off), Jerry Orbach (Law & Order), and Patrick Swayze (I prefer North and South myself) a lot. I mean a lot. At least the dance scenes anyway. I think she went along with us getting a pool just so we could do that lift in the water, too. Though specifically set in the summer Catskills with mid century cars, frocks, pearls, and budding sixties flair; there are also heaps of eighties hairstyles, sneakers, hip dialogue, and thirty year olds playing teenagers to match the original Swayze tune “She's Like the Wind,” “Hungry Eyes,” and the massive “I've Had the Time of My Life” hit. Whether ticklish traditional routines or forbidden steamy – that “Cry to Me” scene, come on – the dance moves remain energetic. The characters are cliché thanks to the fifties elite mentality and the poor boy from across the tracks social barriers, yet everyone's likable thanks to subtle humor and quirky charm. For what on the surface seems to be nothing more than a dance movie, there are some progressive abortion and pre-marital sex debates. Here women are supposed to go from daddy's little girl to the wholesome wife of a doctor with no other options– dating the bad boy or having career dreams were unacceptable. While some of the life imitating art coming of age is heavy handed and melodramatic, the female focus retains surprising depth. When recently catching this on television late at night, I thought the sweet, sweet oldies like “Be My Baby,” “Do You Love Me,” “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow” and more would just be great background noise. However, the comforting storytelling and sexy dancing put a smile on my face. After all, “Nobody puts Baby in a corner!”

Hello, Dolly! – Gene Kelly (Singin' in the Rain) directs this 1969 musical adaptation starring Barbra Streisand (Funny Girl), Walter Matthau (King Creole), and Michael Crawford (Phantom of the Opera) – an overlong two and a half hours with excessively orchestrated, meandering set pieces and dull, unnecessary songs that all feels ten years too late. At times the battle of the sexes banter, zingers, and personality shine better without the music. There are too many misunderstood couples creating more confusion than comedy, and it's easy to zone out or skip around once viewers stop caring about whether this is supposed to be about the matches or the matchmaker. The fast talking backtalk stalls the momentum rather than moving the chemistry along, and the exaggerated, tip toe, butt in the air dance steps are so awkward it borders on parody. This over the top performing for the back row never actually breaks the fourth wall to let the audience in on any meta wink, and sometimes it's all just an hour and a half exercise in making it to the titular show stopping Louis Armstrong (High Society) number. Having said all that, the specific attention to turn of the century New York detail is superb nonetheless thanks to on location pretty, period storefronts, lovely trains, trolleys, and carriages. Feathers, lace, parasols, spats, hats, waistcoats, buttons, bows, and baubles add flair to the wonderful costumes. The bumbling couples are both so flamboyant with their fawning over each other yet completely repressed in their pesky Victorian high collars. Despite the fifties whoopee safe tunes, these corseted women are about to explode and the cross legged men are so grateful to be near enough to a lady to dance. The it's complicated and for love or money hi jinks may be cheeky – the one on one battle of wills where performances are allowed room to maneuver are best – but there's a nostalgic comfort and innocence to the slightly out of touch simplicity. This musical denouement in changing times provides enough whirlwind charm and visual splendor to keep the golly gee giving for young and old.

Stevie Nicks: In Your Dreams – With weepy fan voiceovers, airplane arrival montages, shaky cam introductions, and made to look retro footage, this 2013 documentary chronicling Stevie Nicks' In Your Dreams album collaboration with the Eurythmics' David Stewart is very slow to start. Fortunately, rainy California scenery sets the ethereal mood and we're all here for Stevie's recorded messages and interview sit downs on her pen and paper approach to writing or music production and inspirations. Poetic genesis, military impetus, literary references, and more background on each of the songs from the titular 2011 album pack these 100 minutes with “Everybody Loves You”, “You May Be the One,” “Wide Sargasso Sea,” “Secret Love,” “New Orleans,” “Annabel Lee,” “Italian Summer,” and more. At times, it's difficult to know which tune samples you're hearing because Stevie's lyrics and titles don't always immediately reveal themselves. However, onscreen notes, music video snips, and raw, home recording studio sessions balance the sometimes heated discussions about which tracks sound best – it takes hours, sometimes days for just a few minutes of music. This fly on the wall viewer perspective provides an inside peak at the stress, difficulty, nuances, and all the little things that go into such pretty, sweeping orchestration. Chats with Mick Fleetwood, fun moments with crew, childhood audio clips, early photographs, and home movies create a personal touch. Though occasionally pretentious over waxing on life, love, and music being one and the same with heavy spiritual and emotional thoughts, humorous moments and sarcastic quips keep the time lighthearted. Our rock stars don't forget to rock, and by sampling enough songs and sharing the touching inspirations behind them, this documentary does what it is supposed to do – make you want to buy the album. Why wouldn't you anyway?

Our Shakespeare Reviews!

Our Shakespeare Reviews!

By Kristin Battestella

Looking for the place to find all our Shakespeare critiques and adaptation analysis? So were we so here it is!

Films and Television

All is True

Antony and Cleopatra (1972 – Charlton Heston)

Coriolanus (2011 – Ralph Fiennes)

Coriolanus (2014 – Tom Hiddleston)

Chimes at Midnight (1965 – Orson Welles)

Henry V (1989 – Kenneth Branagh)

The Hollow Crown (2012)

Julius Caesar (1970 – Charlton Heston)

King Lear (2008 – Ian McKellan)

Macbeth (1961 – Sean Connery)

Macbeth (2010 – Patrick Stewart)

Macbeth (2015 – Michael Fassbender)

Othello (1952 – Orson Welles)

Othello (1995 - Laurence Fishburne)

Richard III (1955 – Laurence Olivier)

Richard III (1995 – Ian McKellan)

Romeo and Juliet (1936)

Romeo and Juliet (1968 – Olivia Hussey)

The Taming of the Shrew (1967 – Elizabeth Taylor)

The Tempest (2010 – Helen Mirren)

Titus (1999 – Anthony Hopkins)

Documentaries

The Shakespeare Conspiracy by Sir Derek Jacobi

The Shakespeare Enigma

Shakespeare's Heroes and Villains

Shakespeare's Tomb

Shakespeare Uncovered Season One

Shakespeare Uncovered Season Two

Our Shakespeare and Horror Video Review for HorrorAddicts.net!

Please see our Shakespeare tag for more lists and analysis!

Whitechapel Seasons 3 and 4

Constant Changes Hurt the Goods in Whitechapel Seasons 3 and 4

by Kristin Battestella

After two three-part seasons, the spooky British procedural Whitechapel changes formats with its 2012 Third and subsequent Fourth Seasons – varying in success with six episodes of two-part cases each as obsessive compulsive Inspector Joe Chandler (Rupert Penry-Jones), crusty Detective Sergeant Ray Miles (Phil Davies), and their constables face copycat killers and bizarre suspects alongside possibly evil and ultimately supernatural crimes that test their stiff upper lip mettle.

Whitechapel waxes on its Jack the Ripper past, copycat deduction, and historical cases setting precedents for new crimes even as it restarts as an X-Files creepy investigations wannabe with spooky altars, talk of the devil come to town, and weird neighbors fearing the night. Humbled witnesses, unhappy customers, and dead tailors interrupt wedding parties and family bemusements while forensics, CCTV evidence, and police questioning piece together limps and murder weapon clues. Why was a historical clothier obsessed with modern security technology? Our constables doubt their methodology, drinking and confiding their fears as they grow superstitious thanks to canvasing oddities, a goofy suspect afraid of bright light, and a killer who seemingly disappears into thin air. Cops aren't supposed to believe in magic or monsters, but bloody footprints go nowhere amid prisoner escapes and more deaths. This killer wants to teach a lesson in humility to the snobby survivors and hysterical crowds, but quirky profiling leads to hidden horrors and scary revelations to top off the case. Of course, cranky constables don't really know what to do with a baby much less a mangy fox and bloody appendages. Separated torsos, dismembered bodies dumped in the Thames, no heads – the bodily clues are there, but there's no crime scene and only a wild animal witness. DNA suggests poison – historically a women's weapon – so do they suspect a couple? Stakeouts allow for both humor and time to get to know our characters, after all, how many cops does it take to catch a fox? Smelly abandoned houses begat maze-like booby traps, newspaper pyres, and petrified corpses, but the hoarding and homemade elixirs reveal rare aphrodisiacs, imitation Spanish Fly, beetles, and anthropology evidence. Calligraphy clues, fetishes, unrequited love, and killer personalities come down to bar fights, indecent assaults, and chases, for our undercover team doesn't blend in very well at the edgy night club. By Episode Five, it's a full moon, creepy masks, killer point of view, and an escapee from a mental hospital returning to his former Whitechapel haunts – complete with his doctor Alistair Petrie (The Night Manager) insisting he's the most terrifying patient ever just like Halloween. This bogeyman – pronounced in the British way of course – scares witnesses, poses corpses, and leaves the cell phone in the body's mouth. Parking garage attacks provide chilling violence as the woman plays dead and hopes the killer leaves. It's one thing if a little girl says it's the bogeyman, but what about when an adult victim describes the same? Flashlights, vintage cameras, film reels, and visits to the original murder house lead to haunted whispers, phantom sounds, and spooked constables researching fairy tales and unexplained phenomena. Our therapist victim asks questions, too, helping our detectives see a different angle while the doctors speculate on how a person can die of fright. Great character dynamics and personal moments accent the creepy – they see the victims at night, can't forget them, and learn to live with the gory details. Slits throats, obsessions with silence, and Lon Chaney's London After Midnight drive our killer to slice and dice before standoffs, mouths sewn shut, fatal pantomime, and bloody graffiti – literally.

While Season One of Whitechapel had a fun Jack the Ripper plot, the Kray Twins were less exciting in Year Two, so Whitechapel had to change its format by focusing on local spooky cases. However, it's too contrived that there is always a similar historical case when such tenuous ties aren't necessary to raise the stakes and the series needs to move beyond copycat connections. Rather than using the characterizations and quirky strengths, each of these stories has a bizarre red herring in the first half. Sure police have dead ends and wrong turns, but Whitechapel showcases something eerie in lieu of the real case found in the second part. When the camera lingers too long on a seemingly innocuous person, it's easy to peg him as the killer, yet it's inevitably frustrating when there's always an unfulfilling technicality to catching the bad guy. After all the historical deducting and spooky false starts, the twists to end a case are often rushed with little resolution on what happens next. Despite unique aspects, the crimes are often hollow and formulaic, and none of these stories needed to be two-part shows. Is Whitechapel about solving the creepy cases or the offbeat detectives overcoming their personal and professional demons? It can be both, but the bemusing also negates the attempted scary and every case reboots this mixed focus. The subtle sinister seeds were always there, but outright jokes about the gates of hell being beneath Whitechapel open Season Four as ominous old ladies, pet rats, and torture begat crushed to death murders. Abandoned houses and back alley attacks escalate to an exploding briefcase and possible espionage thanks to carved symbols, mysterious files, and a poison umbrella. These cobblestone streets aren't safe amid old agent vendettas and bums worried about pixies, talismans, and turning coats inside out to avoid a bewitching. Sassy ladies in red and red tape technicalities hamper police interrogations alongside ransacked offices, delicate diplomacy, and hotel surveillance. So called witches are strung up in the snow with bonfires, stonings, slides on persecution history, and charred remains. The police don't believe in witchcraft or whispers of evil among them causing their notorious cases, but the killer does and some of our boys are spooked by the black cats, bodies dropped on cars, and salt water in the lungs to make the drownings slower. Notes found in the stomach during an autopsy, rituals, and abductions acerbate the paranoia. Maybe there's supposed to be a bigger spy picture, but Whitechapel again plays like a different show with two cases at once – wry humor versus frazzled fears and witches jarring with the facts. Rational explanations against demon in the building possibilities are ramped up too quickly rather than letting the paranormal bizarre deduction happen organically – like in the stinky apartment with the long dead body under the electric blanket keeping warm. Ewwww!

Human skin is also left on display during a creepy art exhibit – a hasty flayed while alive chop job lacking in surgical finesse. Russian tattoos, birthmarks, and cadavers as art unnerve the team amid phantom footsteps at the station and medical examiners trying to put the face back on the skull. There's still some trying too much forced spooky adding hot air, for the butcher shops, cleavers, and a victim mistakenly getting in to bed while the killer is already under the sheets is chilling enough. Demented classical music ironically accents the scissors – not the best tool for cutting skin – as the detectives push their desks aside to map out attacks on the precinct floor. Plastic sheeting, chainsaws, killer slicing, and bodies without faces coming ashore are even more disturbing when our clean obsessed constable is unable to wash. Snakes shedding skin, leathery masks, and recoiling dental attacks return to previous crimes haunting the victims alongside great character moments and costly missteps that threaten one of our own. There's no need for superfluous effects when the scares and suspense cut close to home thanks to factory machinery, chases, vats, and a warped sense of poetic justice. Then again, Whitechapel's finest fail at a zombie survival team building competition, but they have no problem with a half eaten body in the sewer, dangling entrails, and precision removal of the liver and pancreas. Here in its final case, Whitechapel finally gets the funny and macabre balance right thanks to killer souvenirs, cryptozoologists, and brains in jars making everyone jumpy. Disused underground tunnel maps lead to a house of horrors as the weird suspects get out of the way early in favor of wounds that won't heal – mentally or physically. Chases caught on video escalate toward more chilling attacks, frightening bathrooms, evil gangs, and bigger missing organs while crimes on Sunday near churches provide religious connotations. Upstanding charitable citizens are being murdered, perhaps sacrificed, and the ominous goings on have the constables on edge – literally. Some of Whitechapel's finest moments come with scared people in bouts of self reflection amid the hooded, shadowed figures and deliciously twisted tasties in the oven. So the suspect has tasted human flesh once! Meat hooks, seasonings, and society clubs mix with cults, ritual banquets, and devilish influences as the psychic messages, sabotage, and reasons for the spooky come full circle. Have all these cases been connected? Why did Whitechapel waste so much time with a back and forth lack of focus when it could have been like this all along?

Inspector Joe Chandler cleans his detectives' desks at night and loathes dripping faucets, but Rupert Penry-Jones' obsessive compulsive constable doesn't have much time for women – especially when her messy, slovenly place is too much to handle. He's particular and it's easier to live alone despite therapy and snapping a rubber band worn on his wrist to control his urges. When a baby throw ups over his shoulder, his team know he would be appalled and agree not to tell him. Chandler screams when there's no water in the bathroom to wash off blood and gets a basin in his office, drinking and repeatedly putting on new shirts after every grubby crime scene. He's reluctant to use mediums or charms even as evil hints mount thanks to the tragic reasons behind his compulsion, but his outside the box attention to detail also aides his deduction. The cleanliness may be an excuse to to go shirtless and each case now provides a potential love interest, but Whitechapel also resets Chandler as some sort of angelic avenger late in Year Four when we barely got any of the good versus evil stakes. Detective Sergeant Ray Miles wonders if he's past it, but Phil Davis' copper is as crusty as ever with his gruff methods and tough love caring about his constables. Impromptu therapy sessions help him express his fears over losing his bite as the sarge insists he still has a place in the chain of command. Miles, however, learns to keep an open mind – trying to set up Chandler and telling a downtrodden witness not to hide her talent. When it comes to a case, he'll take any luck, even contacting a psychic despite Chandler's calling such charlatans affront to real detective work. He hates hospitals because of the smell – and thinks Chandler must love the disinfectant – but his street smart hunches help pull the team's different strengths together. Miles calms his Inspector by viewing his OCD not as a disability but a useful gift, and when supernatural oddities overwhelm the station, Miles returns to his religious roots to confront the evil cause. Steve Pemberton as former Ripperologist Edward Buchan, on the other hand, is relegated to the dusty archive in the police basement as their official researcher. Fortunately, it's a treasure trove of history – until there is mildew near the boxes and Buchan must find the damp source. He's reluctant to use a computer and tells Ed Gein stories, but Whitechapel doesn't always know what to do with his studying the historical files help. He's grateful to Chandler for taking him on, but when he fails to see the details right in front of him, Buchan fees guilty, not sleeping and seeking therapy. It's tough for him to accept that people die in this line of work and he goes out on a limb researching solo for critical information that puts him at risk. Buchan is more traumatized by the experience then he admits, retreating further into his killer case histories until Miles of all people, defends him from the incident room teasing.

Sam Stockman's Emerson Kent, however, is always so jealous! His hero worship devotion to Chandler makes him suspicious of all the women who cross their path, and Kent deliberately interferes when his twin sister dates Mansell. He thinks he deserves getting punched in the subsequent dust up, but Chandler insists he ice the swelling, cover it up, and look professional. Kent gets upset if he lets the Inspector down, so he provides interesting perspectives on a case, canvases when no one else will, and becomes a better detective if only to be like Chandler. By contrast, D.C. Mansell is married one minute, cheating, and on his second divorce the next, and Ben Bishop's toughie drinks at the station and fights in the incident room. He cleans up somewhat when dating Kent's twin sister, but Mansell laughs over office crushes – meddling and sending emails but calling it matchmaking when told what a jerk he's being. Eventually even Chandler calls him out for his messy desk, not being on top of paperwork, and putting victims at risk with his laziness. At times, Mansell is somewhat useless, cracking a code after the case has been solved or left behind at the station. Even when he behaves, doesn't lie or step out, he doesn't feel good enough, and Mansell flips out over a break up – going to the rooftop and contemplating his worth in one of Whitechapel's finest character moments. Hannah Walter's (This is England) Constable Megan Riley joins Whitechapel for Series Three and Four, a lady friendly with the other cops' wives who's not afraid to tell Mansell when he's talking out his ass. Riley won't get her hand checked when it's cut up on the case though – the boys can't get soft or sentimental and neither will she even if the late hours away from her family are upsetting. She does her diligence, canvasing and questions witnesses and getting in on the chases. Riley chats with the boys when she's worried about them, insisting they all support each other – no one bears the blame for their case victims – but Buchan mistakes her comforts for something more. She gently tells him her husband, however, might object if she thought of him that way. Although Riley admits at times she feels safer behind her desk then on the case, Claire Rushbrook as Doctor Llewellyn remains the sensible voice of reason with forensic facts, a morbid wit, and an assistant she calls Igor. She notices when the detectives are being curt and pissy, claiming to spare them the gory details but still providing plenty of gross analysis. Llewellyn is pregnant again in Year Four – walking the long way around to get into the sewer for a body when she can't fit into the manhole. It's fun when we get to see her and Riley together, too, for the medical examiner says she forgets that the living flinch.

Those twitchy, forever annoying, strobe scene transitions, however, serve no purpose and Whitechapel is noticeably better when the flashy interludes are reduced. Rather than paralleling the sensational crimes, the montage overlays stray into re-enactment parody with skulls and horrors that have nothing to do with the morose at hand. Mirrors and reverse angles add better suspense, and choice editing splices accent the obsessive compulsive detail, organized objects, and controlled symmetry. Although the flickering electric, absence of support personnel, and paranormal oozing at times lay on too much notice me ominous, the subtle shadow and lighting schemes suggest a sinister touch. Gory crime scenes and old school splatter contrast bright outdoor filming, police tents, and forensics gear. Photography flashes and zooms are not aesthetics for the audience but part of the investigation while file folders, whiteboards, and projectors invoke the procedural. Whitechapel's weird shaky cam credits change with every story, lacking cohesion and giving license to the show's constantly in flux format. If viewers can look past the uneven historical crime realism versus supernatural explanation mixed vision, Whitechapel provides fine characterizations, intriguing details, quirky humor, and spooky atmosphere for fans of the cast and audiences looking for a different kind of police drama.

The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor

What went Wrong with The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor

by Kristin Battestella

Director Rob Cohen (Dragonheart) takes up the mantle from producer Stephen Sommers, director of The Mummy and The Mummy Returns, for the 2008 sequel The Mummy:Tomb of the Dragon Emperor as Rick O'Connell (Brendan Fraser) and his wife Evelyn (Maria Bello) come to the rescue when their son Alex (Luke Ford) discovers the entombed Dragon Emperor (Jet Li). Once unleashed, however, the only person who can stop the resurrected Emperor is Zi Yuan (Michelle Yeoh) – the sorceress who cursed him.

Ancient Chinese mounds, swords, armor, and dynastic motifs accent the assassination plots, stabbings, raids, and conquest in the opening prologue. The enslaved building of The Great Wall, life after death texts, and forbidden romance betrayals, unfortunately, are a lot like the opening of the First Film, right down to the same Mummy music cues. Then again, the elemental powers, ancient libraries, tormented generals, and immolating curses nonetheless make for a great tale – one viewers forget isn't it's own adventure once Tomb of the Dragon Emperor restarts with our previous heroes now unhappy with post-war quiet and in a rut despite luxury living. Their son's discoveries of Chinese monoliths and the Emperor's tomb come easy and don't feel super epic thanks to the back and forth editing between the bored O'Connells and grave robber skeletons. There's little time to awe at the 2,000 year old frozen in time clay army when the more interesting plot elements are glossed over for set pieces treated as more important than the wonder. We can't enjoy the dragon crossbows, booby traps, or tomb chases because The O'Connells were apparently doing secret espionage work in the interim that we didn't get to see, either. Instead, some Lara Croft:Tomb Raider – Cradle of Life Eye of Shangra-La gem points the way to eternal life, with Tomb of the Dragon Emperor both embracing the Asian history yet feeling xenophobic with evil uniforms, double crossing enemies, and contrived western interference repeating the prior films' M.O. Chases through the streets with fireworks and New Year run amok are fun, but long, hollow fight sequences that do nothing to advance the plot make Tomb of the Dragon Emperor feel longer than it is. There's no sense of the scope or magical powers despite Himalayan treks, avalanches, mystical healings, and a revived Emperor who himself is asking what this is all for anyway. After the first hour, it's not quite clear what's happening with everything including a three headed dragon thrown at the screen in the last half hour. With a hop, skip, and jump, we're at a Great Wall spectacle raising rival dead armies in a Lord of the Rings easy meets CGI versus CGI a la The Phantom Menace that rapidly loses its touch.

Fly fishing in the English countryside is not quite Rick O'Connell's thing, and Brendan Fraser's once proactive, rugged adventurer is now an out of touch, corny old man with outdated weapons and unheeded advice. It's weird to see our favorite couple now arguing about their parenting and contemplating mistakes made – and not just because Maria Bello (The Dark) replaces Rachel Weisz as Evelyn in Tomb of the Dragon Emperor. After writing two successful novels about their mummy adventures, she's hung up with writer's block on the promised third book, but Evie doesn't have much to say or do once the characters are forgotten in the nonsensical action. Bello looks great in the period frocks and initially the camera accents that forties tone with coy smiles and under the hat brim poise, but this Evie does indeed seem like a different person. It would have been interesting if Bello had instead been a second wife and resented step mom competing with Evie's memory. Although the kid in peril was one of the problematic parts of The Mummy Returns, Luke Ford (Hercules) is now the grown up Alex rebelling against his parents yet conveniently following in their archaeology footsteps. Unfortunately, immortal hang ups and young love opposites attract can't save the character from falling completely flat, and Uncle Jonathan John Hannah is a nightclub owner who spends most of his barely there comic relief with a yak while pilot Liam Cunningham (Hunger) is merely convenient transportation. It's a pity we only really see Jet Li's (Romeo Must Die) warlord at the beginning and the end of Tomb of the Dragon Emperor. For most of the picture, the eponymous bad guy – who doesn't get any other name despite the historical possibilities – is just a resurrected, stilted, CGI thing more like an automaton robot rather than the feared man in charge. His powers over the elements are small scale or convenient, manipulating snow or fire and shape shifting as needed without any real countdown or ascension of power as anchored by Arnold Vosloo's Imhotep in the First Film. For the finale we get Li's fine action skills as expected, but he never really has the chance to be the true villain of the piece. Likewise, Michelle Yeoh (Tomorrow Never Dies) is relegated to glossed over bookends. Her immortal Zi Yuan witch lives in Shangri-La, and 2,000 years of magical pools are quickly explained away before a great but too brief one on one battle between our ancient foes – which is all we really want to see in Tomb of the Dragon Emperor.

While some of the fiery terracotta effects don't look so great on bu-ray, Tomb of the Dragon Emperor does well with tangible sand, statues, tents, and archaeology tools. The grand English estates match the vintage cars, antiques, typewriters, gloves, fedoras, and stoles. Temples in the mountains, Asian architecture, and snowy panoramas create a sense of adventure while chariots and molten horses coming to life invoke danger. Unfortunately, the shootouts, attacks, and explosions are super loud and cliché music cues are noticeably out of place. To start, Tomb of the Dragon Emperor feels very forties styled in a Universal homage, but then the action becomes hectic and modern messy with stereotypical seventies zooms when it comes to the kung fu. The camera, the people, and the fantastics are all moving at the same time and it's tough for the audience to see anything, and those contrived yetis – yes, yetis – are embarrassingly bad. Today, Tomb of the Dragon Emperor could have been a direct to streaming off shoot adventure – after all they're still making those direct to video Scorpion King movies. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor breaks from the more familiar theme with a bait and switch title caught between two masters. Tomb of the Dragon Emperor seeks to take the series in a new direction whilst also keeping its ties to the previous films. If this had no connection to The Mummy and embraced its own dynastic legends and lore, Tomb of the Dragon Emperor could have been a fun action adventure. Perhaps it can still be entertaining for youth able to separate it from the legacy of the First Film. Otherwise, the flawed, thin story, and try hard of The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor is just window dressing reaching for an adventurous charm that isn't there.

The Strain Seasons 2 and 3

Real World Trauma Acerbates the flaws in The Strain Seasons Two and Three

by Kristin Battestella

After an unraveling end to the First Season of The Strain, it took me a long, long while to return to the thirteen episode 2015 Second Season. Childhood flashbacks recounting fairy tales of nobles with gigantism and quests for the curing blood of a gray wolf start the year off well. Horrific blood exchanges lead to village children vanishing in the shadow of the creepy castle before we return to the present for secret deals with The Master, alliances with the Ancient Ones, and blind telepathic feeler vampires canvasing the city. Scientists Ephraim Goodweather (Corey Stoll) and Nora Martinez (Mia Maestro) contemplate vampire vaccines while former antique dealer Abraham Setrakian (David Bradley) pursues a rare strigoi text and rat catcher Fet (Kevin Durand) prepares their explosive defensive. Government officials like Justine Feraldo (Samantha Mathis) fight back against the zombie like masses despite shootouts in infested laboratories, double crosses, and sentient, disguised as human foot soldiers. Old fashioned black and white Mexican horror reels add personality and history to our reluctant heroes while more superb action and flashbacks standout late in the season with “The Assassin” and “Dead End.” Unfortunately, early on in Year Two, my main dilemma with the First Season of The Strain returned– you can read all of this, but it is much too much onscreen. Unnecessary timestamps and location notations clutter reintroduced characters, new problems, old problems, and unintroduced newcomers. There are too many separated characters with unbalanced screen time who must repeatedly explain who they are. Enemy's enemy is my friend mixed motivations create confusion – multiple people hunting The Master individually making promises to his fellow ancient vampires with little background on who these chained monsters chilling beneath Brooklyn are. Cryptic double talk and real estate transactions may be filler or meandering developments, but it's a toss up on which one will drag on or disappear. The past stories are often more tantalizing because our team isn't much of a team. It took so long in the First Year to get everyone together, yet each is still toiling over what to do in this vampire zombie apocalypse. After previous fears over any tiny contagion, one and all shoot, blast, slice, and splatter at will. They hand out fliers with the monster details and warn the community, yet unaware police are shocked to find vampires in a dark alley.

Maybe The Strain is meant to mirror how no one is on the same page in a crisis – we are now witnessing that chaotic misinformation mistake first hand indeed – but the plot is all over the place, too. It's been a few weeks onscreen since The Strain began, however life is upside down for some while others seems totally unbothered. Again, this is a foreboding parallel to our real life pandemic with the poor working man much more deeply impacted than the wealthy ease of access, but here there's no sense of the storytelling scope despite opportunistic orchestrations and tough women securing the five boroughs. Slick villains talk of great visions and master plans, but tangents diverge into a dozen different threads and multiple dead ends. Is The Strain about a doctor experimenting on the infected to test scientific theories or weird do nothing telepathic vampires and slow strigoi chases? Are we to enjoy the precious moments between our little people struggling on the ground or awe at the zombie outbreak turned vampire mythology? New people and places are constantly on the move, jumbled by an aimless, plodding pace as too little too late politicians talk about quarantines when The Strain is past containment. Confusing, pointless storylines take away from important intrigues and significant elements tread tires amid random threats and dropped crises. The conflicts on cruel science for the greater good grow hollow thanks to constant interruptions and changed emotions. Provocative diluted worm extracts taken for illness or ailments are used as control by the strigoi or when necessary for our heroes, but the scientific analysis of such a tonic or hybrid cases is never considered. Infecting the infected experiments and vampire free island security only take a few episodes, yet viewers today who can't pay the rent are expected to believe it takes weeks for a market free fall and runs on banks? “The Born” starts off great, but often there's no going back to what happens next regarding cures and Roman history as contrived messy or blasé action pads episodes. Rather than driving away in a cop car, dumbed down characters run into a church for a lagging, maze-like battle that kills an interesting minority character. When the community comes together for “The Battle for Red Hook,” unnecessary family pursuits ruin the sense of immediacy while the hop, skip, and jump to Washington D.C. for two episodes of scientific effort gets ditched for glossed over vampire factions and historic relics. Both the lore and science are interesting, but these mashed together entities compete for time as if we're changing the channels and watching two shows at once. Instead of the rich detail we crave, The Strain continually returns to its weakest plot with shit actions and stupid players causing absurd consequences.

The Strain, however, does look good, and the ten episode Third Season provides coffins, gore, goo, and nasty bloodsucking appendages. The vampire makeup, creepy eyes, monster sinews, and icky skin are well done. Occasionally, creatures scaling the wall and speedy, en masse action is noticeable CGI, but the worms, tentacles, and splatter upset the body sacred. Sickly green lighting invokes the zombie plague mood while choice red add vampire touches alongside silver grenades, ultraviolet light, and ancient texts. Sadly, Season Three opens with an unrealistic announcement that it's only been twenty-three days since the outbreak started. The uneven pace makes such time impossible to believe, and tricked out infrared military are just now arriving three weeks into the disaster. Although, I spent February marathoning The Strain, and it is beyond depressing – nay downright infuriating – to see how our current administration did not heed epidemic warnings, responding terribly to the Coronavirus outbreak with red tape and lack of resources. Mass manufacture of The Strain's bio-weapon is also never mentioned again as the science is now nothing more than a home chemistry set. Instead, step by step time is taken to siphon gas in a dark, dangerous parking garage – which could be realistic except The Strain has never otherwise addressed food, supplies, precious toilet paper, or the magically unlimited amount of silver bullets. Once again, everyone who fought together goes on to separate allegiances on top of hear tell global spread, Nazi parallels, control centers, and messianic symbolism. It's all too clunky thanks to people made stupid and contradictions between the onscreen myths, technology, and abilities. Too many convenient infections, Master transformations, tacked on worms, and excuses happen at once – cheapening Shakespearean touches and monster worm bombs with redundant failures. Montages wax on human history while voiceovers tell audiences about government collapse, glossing over arguably the most interesting part of the catastrophe for drawn out experiments on microwaves. There's no narrative flow as the episodes run out but suddenly everyone is sober enough to use the ancient guidebook to their advantage. After such insistence over sunlight and ultraviolet, those safeguards are inexplicably absent when needed. No one maximizes resources and opportunities in “Battle for Central Park,” and people only come together because they accidentally bump into each other. In “The Fall,” a carefully orchestrated trap and prison plan is finally put into action against The Master, but ridiculous contrivances stall the operation before easy outs and one little effing asshole moron ruining it all. Again.

The cast is not at fault for the uneven developments on The Strain, but if Ephraim Goodweather is only there to be a drunken bad parent failing at every turn, he should have been written off the show. If we're sticking with Eph and his angst before science, then his pointless strigoi wife and terrible son Zach should have been tossed instead of hogging the screen. Cranky, obnoxious, budding sociopath Zach's “Why? No! Don't!” lack of comprehension is unrealistic for his age, and everything has to be dumbed downed to appease him. Maybe quarantined parents can now can relate to this scenario, but onscreen The Strain is continually talking down to viewers like we are five and it gets old very fast. Previously compassionate characters are reset as cold marksmen, and Eph claims he no longer cares about the cause when he was once at its epicenter. He complains he has nothing to do, bemoaning the lack of a feasible vaccine before gaining government support in creating a strigoi bio-weapon only to ditch it for microwaves and vampire telepathy. Zach ruins each plan anyway, and by the end of Season Two, I was fast forwarding over the Goodweather family plots. Nora Martinez is also nonexistent as a doctor unless convenient, relegated instead to babysitting, and Samantha Mathis' (Little Women) Justine Feraldo likewise starts off brassy before unnecessarily overplaying her hand and failing bitterly because of others. Initially The Strain had such a diverse ensemble, but by the end of the Third Season, all the worst things have happened to the women and minorities. Ruta Gedmintas' Dutch wavers from the cause for a conflicted lesbian romance that disappears before she returns to the fold as Eph's tantalizing research assistant when she's not being captured and rescued. I won't lie, I only hung on watching The Strain as long as I did for Rupert Penry-Jones (MI-5) as the thousand year old hybrid Quinlan. He uses his conflicted history with The Master to help Setrakian and sees through Ephraim while developing a distrustful shoulder to shoulder with Fet. Unfortunately, his vampire super powers come in handy unless he's forgotten about when it's time for the action to sour or let failures happen, and nobody tells officials about this almost invincible half-strigoi who could be useful in a fight. Setrakian, Quinlan, and Fet make for an ornery, begrudging trio, living in a luxury hotel while pursuing Abraham's relics whether they agree with the plan or not – mostly because Fet accrues all manor of weapons and is happy to use them. Setrakian has some crusty wisdom for them, but his battle of wits with Jonathan Hyde as the at any price Palmer provides great one on one scene chewing. The double crosses and interchangeable threats feel empty, and Palmer also has an odd romantic side plot that wastes time, but Richard Sammel's Nazi vampire Eicchorst remains a deliciously twisted minion. “Dead End” and “Do or Die” reveal more personal history as the mature players provide intriguing questions on immortality, humanity, and barbarism. Miguel Gomez' Gus finally seems like he is going to join the team, but then he's inexplicably back on his own rescuing families and refusing to accept his mother's turn in more useless filler. He and Joaquin Cosio (Quantum of Solace) as the absolutely underutilized fifties superhero Angel are conscripted to fight vampires but once again, they remain wasted in isolated, contrived detours.

Streamlining Fet, Dutch, Quinlan, and Gus as vampire fighters testing methods from Setrakian's texts and Eph's science funded by Feraldo could have unified The Strain with straightforward heroes versus monsters action we can root for in an apocalypse. Watching on the eve of our own real world pandemic, was I in the right frame of mind to view The Strain unclouded? Thanks to creators Guillermo de Toro and Chuck Hogan and showrunner Carlton Cuse's foretelling social breakdowns between the haves and the have nots, maybe not. That said, The Strain terribly executes two seasons worth of source material. An embarrassment of riches with a scientific premise, mystical flashbacks, assorted zombie and vampire crossover monsters, and intriguing characters fall prey to uneven pacing, crowded focus, and no balance or self-awareness onscreen. The Strain may have been better served as television movies or six episode elemental seasons – science in year one, vampire history the second, relic pursuits, and a final battle. Disastrous characters and worthless stories compromise the meaty sacrifices, crusty old alliances, and silver standoffs – stretching the horror quality thin even in a shorter ten episode season. Rather than a fulfilling mirror to nature parable, The Strain Seasons Two and Three are an exercise in frustration, and even without the real world horrors, it's too disappointing to bother with the end of the world reset in Season Four.

The Magnificent Seven Season 2

The Magnificent Seven Season Two Rides into the Sunset 

by Kristin Battestella

The thirteen episode 1999-2000 Second Season of The Magnificent Seven opens with action vignettes and heroic punches as gunslinger Chris Larabee (Michael Biehn), sharpshooter Vin Tanner (Eric Close), ladies man Buck Wilmington (Dale Midkiff), gambler Ezra Standish (Anthony Starke), preacher Josiah Sanchez (Ron Perlman), healer Nathan Jackson (Rick Worthy), and kid J.D. (Andrew Kavovit) take names no questions asked when crooks think they can ride into their town.

New federal marshal Peter Firth (MI-5), however, has a strict approach in the “The New Law” premiere, enacting a no guns policy and relieving The Seven of their services. Railroad entrepreneurs want official assurances that a progressive town doesn't need gunslingers, but up to no good ranchers Brion James (Blade Runner), Stacy Keach (Mike Hammer), and Tim Thomerson (Trancers) see an opportunity as our boys move on, each with a moment of humor, trouble, or doubt on what they will do next. Of course, this is the season premiere, so we know The Seven will ultimately stick around amid foolish policies and town raids. While this feels more like a standard plot than a standout opener, the townsfolk get in on the action and our boys know where to find each other when they are needed. Rousing riding montages build as two becomes four, and finally all seven combine for cavalry ruses, jailhouse rescues, and pondering the outcome at the saloon. As this season progresses, The Magnificent Seven becomes more serious, relying less on action or generic plots of the week and more on fine ensembles, characterizations, and town-centric tales with great guest stars. Straight dramas take the forefront before the more adventurous two part “Wagon Train,” and one can tell this was probably meant to be the big premiere but was held back for a February sweeps run as none of the recurring ladies that strengthen the beginning of the season are featured and more potentially interesting characters introduced here don't re-appear. Would be homesteaders, rival land claims, and threats to the judge mean our boys will escort the train, but stubborn men are reluctant to have cowboys around their family folk. Multiple flirtations, villainous vows, a jolly powder man, widows, and ornery kids lead to attacks on the camp, questions about this must have land, explosions, and deed double crosses. From fiddling and dancing to shootouts, kidnapping rescues, and dynamite, The Seven do it all as tensions build to shootouts and wagon sieges. These quirky bad guys must get rid of these “seven hooligans,” and by Part Two, ladies are running away with our heroes amid marriage proposals, gold prospecting, and safety versus taking a stand. The sappy may be too much for some viewers who prefer the solid action and the stakes are both made easy yet insurmountable, but the dangers and dalliances accent the questions on outlaw living compared to settling down with family. Fortunately, the jerky men made weak and charming character moments remain entertaining. When those seven silhouettes ride up the mountain crest as the crescendos peak, there really isn't any doubt about who's going to win.

Scared Chinese railroad works also seek out our heroes in “Chinatown” after fellow workers are beaten and killed. The Magnificent Seven shows surprisingly brutal attacks thanks to rapacious, racist, good ole boys; slick rail baron Brad Dourif (Lord of the Rings); and vengeful hot head John Cho (Harold and Kumar) speaking out about the wrongdoings. In town, our boys have official jurisdiction and here they'd be meddling in a private entity, but that's never stopped them before and they won't take a family's precious jade as payment, either. Multiple storylines converge as our boys free abused women, uncover murder plots, and find evidence proving money and motive. This well balanced piece addresses hate crimes, immigrant labor, corrupt white men, illegal business practices, and cooked books with ahead of its time wisdom. Our young immigrant wants to “learn to shoot so I can be an American” but our gunslinger answers that “learning to shoot don't make you an American, but it could make you a killer and it won't fix the way you feel. Guns and hate is a bad mix.” The Magnificent Seven tackles issues we're still dealing with today in some serious storytelling, but it's therapeutic to see the good guys win – even if it's only on the small screen for an hour. Territory freedom versus statehood regulations expand The Magnificent Seven beyond generic West simplicity in “Serpents” as protests begat bar fights and a dead hotel patron carrying a sophisticated rifle and $10,000. Who hired this assassin and how did he himself end up dead? The Seven argue about what to do with the money as whispers and accusations mount. Pairings we don't normally see bring out each other's ire while multiple temptations such as ladies, wealth, and weapons test our heroes. The soapbox speeches go on despite the fatal risks, underhand tactics, and backdoor deals as our group divided faces their demons. Who's really the target and will our flawed heroes overcome and save the day? Bullets are taken and our multifaceted cowboys come through in a deep episode that fully shows The Magnificent Seven's potential. This should have been the finale, as “Obsession” revisits the Larabee family murder on the crime's three year anniversary and feels more like a somewhat rushed and unresolved Season Three premiere than a conclusion. A former flame turned wealthy widow under fire offers The Seven fifty dollars each for protection in what should be an easy side job – a day or two out of town reminiscing on wild times with carriage rides, feasts, and feather beds. Is there more to life than drinking or fighting? The saucy romance moves fast, but decisions to stay on the seemingly idyllic farm have consequences. Conversations waxing on honest hearts and kind love culminate in multiple wounds and innocents caught in the crossfire as silhouettes and eerie music accent the titular creepy. Suspicious paperwork reveals the boys were right to distrust such quick happiness, and The Magnificent Seven comes together for one last shootout.

There aren't any truly bad episodes this season – The Magnificent Seven gets better as it goes on – but serious versus humor pacing issues hamper several entries amid lingering clues that episodes aired out of production order, were held over from the First Season, or where rushed to included more stories as cancellation loomed. The second hour “Sins of the Past” combines motherly competition, dilemmas, and history as each of the boys face arrests, romance, business, rescues, and clearing one's name. It's a somewhat slow, getting to know them deeper, gray bottle episode, but the acts should be structured with separated drama and humorous plots. Treating drastically different stories with standard A, B, C back and forth doesn't give each tale the focus they deserve even if the humor fades once the boys bond together. “Achilles” also has too much with card games, ladies, poetry, robberies, shoot outs in the street, and innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire. The psychological toll of being a gun toting town protector and unlikely pairings, John Brown pasts, and vigils over the wounded lady jar with lighter plots or too briefly featured situations. It's great to see The Seven struggle amid angry townsfolk, funerals, illiteracy, and more, but the scale is crowded and uneven. Night time raids versus hanging up the guns, wisdom from the villain, and more superb elements again deserved more time, but this late in the season, the series writers may have been trying to include all their ideas when had The Magnificent Seven continued, this would have been a fine episode to have some players depart over grief, killer instinct, and their perceived heroic shortcomings. This episode in many ways highlights the best the show has to offer as well as its problematic, short lived network constructs. Likewise, “Ladykillers” has scaffolds, saloon swagger, and sassy female bounty hunters who wound a man to keep him alive for the higher reward. Buck thinks it's a dangerous job for women, but they object that giving birth is more deadly. The serious grit, however, is again played for romance and male sensitivity rather than strong women and their struggles in the West. The rowdy, aggressive sister drags men into the barn yet it's all jokes about getting into their britches and sowing wild oats with come ons about who is the most handsome of The Seven. Personal vendettas and debates about if a woman with a gun can be trusted happen alongside surprising gun shots, injuries, chases, and stand offs as the humor is then completely dropped for dark redemptive questions, domestic violence, voiceover prayers, arguments on executing women, and pulling the trigger in cold blood. The topical elements may be too much for a friendly Saturday night, but once again, it's what The Magnificent Seven could have been. Imagine if one of our boys was shot and a woman replaced him?

Chris Larabee has loosened up a little bit, but Michael Biehn is still dressed in all black to match his rough exterior. Chris tries to ignore gunslinging challenges, but today is just as good as any day to die and he'll shoot up J.D.'s bowler to prove his fast shot. Memories of his late family, however, are fading from his mind, and Chris works on his nearby homestead to get away and hold on a little longer. Of course, he's also jealous when Mary has other prospects – a safe family life is not exactly something he could give her – but Chris admits their friendship is special to him and he's not blind to her headstrong beauty. He doesn't give a damn about a person's past if they ask for help and won't take their precious tokens as payment. However, he does threaten to shoot Ezra and won't tolerate when a sleazy guy puts his hand on his shoulder. Chris yells at J.D. to deal with his guilt; he won't get sentimental, but tells the kid to change his mind about leaving, for if J.D. were perfect he wouldn't be one of them. Chris drinks his pain away and initially objects to his friends questioning his former flame when he has a new chance at happiness, but he realizes they wouldn't be suspicious for no reason. In the absence of the judge when asked who's in charge, he supposes that's him, taking to this lawman thing more than he admits, yet Chris lingers in the back of the church by the doors and tries to remain objective if one of their own is accused. Chris' father-in-law Ed Lauter (Family Plot) comes to town in “Vendetta,” claiming to have killed the man who killed their family, but Tyne Daly (Cagney & Lacey) is pursuing him for her own revenge. Chris resented his disapproval of his marriage and he's angry at his father-in-law bringing this trouble back to him now. Buck says Chris should consider his suffering, but the men blame each other and have it out amid their confrontations with Daly's harsh Irish matriarch scoffing at the dirty church but confessing she is going to kill and enjoy it. She's a God fearing woman kneeling at the altar for forgiveness yet shouting from the balcony how she'll fill 'em with lead, willing to destroy the rest of her family for vengeance that isn't as clear cut as it seems in another Magnificent Seven standout with prayers and gunfire intermixing for superb drama. Eric Close's Vin Tanner still has a wrongful warrant hanging over his head – he isn't afraid to die but will take a stand on being strung up for the wrong reason. Vin thinks he can defend himself alone, but Chris brings along his mare's leg and Vin's grateful when all the boys join his cause. He lies, however, that his handwriting is terrible to hide his illiteracy. Mary thinks he has traveled and has many interesting stories to tell, but he rebuffs her newspaper opportunities before sharing his words on heroics and heart, reciting poetry on how much he values her mind. She offers to teach him to read and write down what he wants, keeping his secret the way Vin keeps Josiah's family confidences to himself. He takes a liking to a married woman in “Wagon Train,” rescuing her from the bad guys before insists no woman belongs to a man – a true husband will know her worth, thank God for her, and never put her at risk. Buck says his nobility will earn him smooches but also trouble, and Chris briefly wonders if he can still depend on Vin. He knows the affair isn't right, but Vin's too wily to settle down and tame land no matter how he feels. He rejoins the fight despite the nasty husband shooting at him, and Chris assures him that there's nothing to explain. Vin resents The Seven for teasing him, but he agrees this is where he belongs.

Dale Midkiff as ladies man Buck Wilmington has some then risque bathtub scenes but loses his touch with several gals this season – much to the bemusement of the boys. Buck lets a man live when he has the death blow even if he doesn't deserve it, for he'll always stand up for what's right, although Chris says he's too proud. The two are close, but they argue, too, and Buck only tells Josiah when he has fearful nightmares. He gets stir crazy when it's calm and peaceful, cutting loose and accidentally taking a Chinese medicine to cure a “limp noodle” – a condition he insists is not a problem. Despite being both intimidated and intrigued by a lady bounty giving him the cold shoulder, he pens a romantic letter to help J.D. Buck lays it on think, lowering his voice and putting on the charm before getting a dose of his own love 'em and leave 'em medicine. He's caught up in a duel for “Love and Honor,” defending a wronged woman against A. Martinez (She-Devil) as romances crisscross amid afternoon standoffs and talk of integrity. The duel is actually a sword fight, yet there's not a lot of action in the first half of the episode, and we don't notice because we're enjoying the characters, multi-ethnic plots, and female but not damsel in distress angst. There's a touch of Zorro, too, with spars, swords cutting the candles, and begrudging respect from Martinez. He says he's going to find six men of his own to watch his back, and he, too, would have been a fascinating replacement if need be. Besides, it's also nice to hear the boys actually called magnificos, and had The Magnificent Seven continued, Fabiana Udenio (Summer School) as sassy bartender Inez could have been fine flair. Her three episodes are full of Buck foil, for he's unarmed in their battle of wits, and Vin has her back when confronting the Don from whom she fled. Sadly, we don't get to see Inez relate to the women in “Ladykillers,” because after holding down the saloon so well, she disappears in the cut back second half of the season. J.D. is tough, too. He's angry at a baddie using dynamite against families rather than fighting like a man, but the others think Andrew Kavovit's kid is still hot air. He dreams of riding with the Texas Rangers, insisting he's no longer the rookie in need of his six big brothers, yet J.D.'s foolish enough to gamble with Maude and buys a Chinese potion to make him grow taller. The bowler jokes continue, but J.D. confides in Buck how often his missing a bullet is just dumb luck. J.D. knows the townsfolk blame him when his stray shot leads to a citizen's death in “Achilles” and becomes reluctant to use his guns. Josiah reminds him to take pride in what he's done for this town, and these touching, growing up fast, or leaving contemplations could have been a longer story arc. J.D. regains his enthusiasm when he doesn't need his holster to save the day, but he gets tongue tied when trying to court Casey. Their fishing competition and pulling pigtails banter are charming, but Nathan insists every girl wants a bracelet, not the frog digger J.D. intends to get for Casey. Dana Barron appears in five episodes this season as Casey, but the out of order episodes have her liking him one hour, then hating him the next before running to his side when he's injured. She gets mistaken for a boy when her hair is up in her hat, but Casey matures and softens up with J.D. even as she comes in handy and helps the boys.

Anthony Starke's Ezra P. – the “P” stands for persuasive – Standish “Attorney at Law” intends to buy the saloon and improve his new “Standish Tavern” but he wasn't made honest labor or Puritanism. When donning the unthinkable Union Blue for a disguise, Ezra at least makes sure he's a colonel. The only thing that can drag him away from his down pillow at dawn is the word “bet,” and he takes odds against Buck in a challenge, encouraging betters to spend expeditiously. Of course, he, too has on occasion found it necessary to defend his good name in a sword fight, however Ezra reluctantly buys an abused girl in “Chinatown” when Nathan doesn't have enough money to outbid a wealthy creeper and free her. She follows Ezra to be his servant, but while he may be a scoundrel, Ezra insists he's always a gentleman to a lady. After a losing a card game with six suspicious kings in one deck, Ezra ends up with nothing but his hat, gun, and boots before finding out it was a fake leg under the table that defeated him. He wonders how he ever let himself come to a career in law enforcement, and writes to his mother that he is baby sitting again and gets slapped when he tries to move in on a woman for her gold claim. Michelle Phillips' Maud Standish wins the deed to the town hotel in a poker game, and mother and son are so genteel as they throw down the gauntlet over rival prices, two for one drinks, and tainted booze. He calls her out for being self-serving, but she insists she taught him better than using his own money in business before selling at top value and buying his saloon. Maude's accused of theft in “The Trial” when missing diamond cuff links are found in the false bottom of her satchel. Ezra's happy to put his mother behind bars, but she spruces up her cell with lamps, furniture, and curtains before sweet talking the Judge, and it would have been great to see more of their law and con woman opposites attract. He says she's the first prisoner to ever tell him he's the most handsome man in the world, but when her accuser proposes marriage, Ezra draws up a prenuptial agreement including a chef, maid, and shop accounts. She's supposed to pick out the ring, but Maude steals his carriage to flee instead. Ezra is likewise tempted with The Seven's found $10,000. He's tired of being knocked out, shot at, and disrespected with such indignities for $7 a week but Chris says he's the only one who complains about the risks they take and doesn't trust him to guard the cash. Although sharing the wealth is never his first instinct, Ezra's angry they all think he'd cut and run. He confides in Josiah that he thought he had proven his loyalty to his friends, and he tells Ezra to face his demons – giving him the money so it can serve its purpose and fix his mercenary ways.

(18 year old “Save a horse, ride a cowboy” me would have *loved* to have screen captures of this back then!)

Ron Perlman's Josiah Sanchez prays for a sign and finds a dog instead, but doesn't mind that the Lord loves a good riddle. Money is like manure and should be spread, but Josiah objects when his church is called unclean because it's open to all paths regardless of belief – including dusty folk and troubled souls. When insulted as a mere handyman, he says Jesus was good with a hammer, too. Josiah provides forgiveness for those who would be consumed with revenge in great one on one wisdoms. He's still enchanted by Maude, reads The Iliad, and waxes on romance but won't offer J.D. courting tips and claims he's on a vow of silence and abstinence when a widow takes a liking to him. He lifts heavy water buckets to avoid temptations when guarding a large sum of money but ultimately sleeps with it and dreams of angels before taking up golf as a lesson in humility against your own worst enemy – yourself. Josiah's proud to defend Nathan's father in “The Trial;” they share Scripture together and even Maude compliments Josiah's well spoken parables. He puts the case in perspective by removing talk of color, slave, and master and instead asks the jury which one of them wouldn't kill the man who terrorized his family if he had the chance. Josiah hates funerals no matter how nice heaven is supposed to be, brings peace to prisoners facing the noose, and says he's not drinking alone but with the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Unfortunately, a drunken Josiah returns to town in “Penance” spouting righteous atonement amid dust storms and accusations of murder. The investigating Pinkerton hones in on Josiah's reluctance to talk because his sins are between him and God before revealing more of his family history and regrets. The evidence pointing to Josiah is contrived and it's obvious who the murderer is; however the purgatory mood, murder mystery askew, and horror film making create a unique atmosphere. We had so little time for The Magnificent Seven to dig deep with a scary or dark storyline, but Josiah comes to his senses to minister the criminal just in time. Rick Worthy's Nathan objects to being accused as a snake oil man but is often frustrated that his meager medical skills aren't much use. He wants to pursue his doctoring more but anguishes when his lack of schooling acerbates fatal wounds. Nathan won't take the given gold claim from a dying man he tried to save, either – even when Ezra waxes how they could build a hospital with it. At times, they have a more lighthearted banter, but Nathan educates Ezra on rapier techniques in an intriguing spar between the southern con man and the former slave. Nathan was his master's sparring partner, so his swordsmanship is not so fond a skill. The boys have his back, however, in “The Trial” when Nathan's father faces a lynching. Pleas about the war being over and nasties making the firm distinction between the black accused and white man victim add dimension to touching father and son moments. After slavery, war, and separation, a free man deserves a day in court, but Nathan does not expect justice and confides his history and fears to Chris. Superb tears, pain, and performances bring the terrors of the past full circle thanks to confessions and circumstances that are enough to break a man's spirit – almost.

Judge Travis has our boys' backs against the territory bureaucrats, but Robert Vaughn's crusty lawman won't given them a raise even if he admits he's glad to see them defeat sleazy prosecutors. The Judge is sympathetic to men who kill because they had to, commuting sentences and protecting a charge once justice has been ruled, yet he's reluctant to hang a woman and being fair doesn't always help his case. Once a colder snob when The Magnificent Seven began, Laurie Holden's widow Mary Travis has let her hair down and earned a brief appearance in the opening credits. Buck doesn't want her to look at a dead body, but Mary says it is part of her job, and she gets tough when interviewing a nasty marshal – drinking when he insists women should be wives, mothers, tea total, and not vote. She may not be able to find a pencil when it's already behind her ear, but Mary dons a holster and gets dirty riding to the wild Purgatory town when seeking out the boys. The Magnificent Seven has multiple women relating to each other without taking away from the men, and Mary vows how they are rare, good men who have helped one and all many times. When a former flame proposes to her in “Wagon Train,” however, she doesn't immediately accept but considers her son, the newspaper, and the opportunity for progress in town compared to starting over on the farm with a ready made family. Of course, Chris is not amused – he says she'd be foolish to turn down a good man, but Mary confides in him that she isn't ready for such a big decision. This would have been another great plot to revisit a la Shane, but outspoken editor Mary moves on, campaigning for statehood and writing articles on Freedom of Speech and amendment rights. Old school western street facades, wooden storefronts, balconies, and rooftops provide The Magnificent Seven with ample places for shoot outs, standoffs, crashes, chases, broken windows, and close quarter fist fights. Horses, hats, dusters, ropes, cigars, and poker accent saloons, wagons, telegraphs, barrels, wanted posters, and Spanish touches. The slow motion may be a bit too much at times and the outdoor filming makes for a fuzzy picture today – by the end of the season, you can tell they're using the same hilly spot from different angles, too. However, the rustic realism and dirty, dusty action is nicer then often overly noticeable CGI in HD. The attention to period detail continues with wallpapers, Victorian interiors, bonnets, bustles, and fine ladies' silhouettes, and The Magnificent Seven was probably quite expensive in its day thanks to well done stunts, leaps, cannons, and explosions. Blunt, multi layered gunfire sets off impressive stagecoach heists, villains caught in the wheels, trick riding shots, and swinging saloon doors that always end up off their hinges. Surprising sword action is also intense as wide shots survey the overall battle while above and below filming keeps the blood and slashes realistically tight. Great windstorms, dusty roads, flapping shutters, and slamming doors build suspense, and dark silhouettes show scary attacks when more graphic violence couldn't be shown in the well choreographed and edited action. Today maybe costs would be saved in rotating the cast or not having all of The Seven in each episode, but be it bloody noses or broken ribs, our boys also get their bumps and bruises with comical cues or heroic notes to match. The opening titles once again remind us we're in for a rousing good time with picturesque heroes on horseback riding onward to save the day.

The first half of The Magnificent Seven aired as a Winter 1999 mid-season replacement before the final episodes were dumped in a Friday night summer burn off, unceremoniously ditched after a sweeps attempt to boost the declining Walker, Texas Ranger and continue the CBS Saturday western night post-Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman. My crummy, taped off TV VHS tapes certainly got some wear, and I remember being involved in one of the first internet campaigns to save the show – embarrassing but now fascinating Geocities websites chronicling the transition of television from desperately dependent on Nielsen ratings and advertising dollars to online fandom and streaming freedom. If this Magnificent Seven was on a premium channel or internet service today for three, ten episode seasons of arc storytelling with one show runner, who knows what the possibilities would be. In its second season, The Magnificent Seven remains both an action man's adventure and a wholesome television western. This was as heavy and violent as a network Saturday night show pre-Y2K was going to get, yet the series is great television when it overcomes such opposing constrains with next level performances, plots, and swagger. This show simply ends much too soon, and it's easy to end The Magnificent Seven here and go right back to the beginning for comforting cowboy entertainment.