directed by daniel espinosa
skydance media/columbia pictures
Whee! Hee hee! Yee-haw! This giddy space-station extravaganza is an FX-rich disaster film that shamelessly reminds one of numerous other similarly themed flicks (and actually is reminding this guy of 2011’s Apollo 18 right now as he’s thinking about it). You know the drill:
space vehicle needs rescued / look something’s alive in there whoops shouldna done that / oh no there goes Tokio next verse, same as the first
What recommends this version of that movie is the vicious perseverance demonstrated by the organism in question, and the increasing desperation of the dwindling crew attempting to thwart its advances. The ominous possibility that all of Planet Earth could be endangered is a nice touch. Race against time: undertaken! Noble acts: attempted! Predictable conclusion: delivered!
why did i watch this movie?
Had it been a while since I’d been reminded that in space, no one can hear you scream, that is the question. Unfortunately, I have no answers.
should you watch this movie?
It’s a good time. No, it’s not terribly original, but the inexorable alien malevolence is impressive.
highlight and low point
The situation aboard the space station gets seriously out of hand, and the escalating insanity of the at first preventative and then preemptive steps taken against the marauding extraterrestrial thing is fairly captivating. A lot of what occurs is standard actioner boilerplate, however, and spoiler alert but I rather doubt one would utilize a flamethrower aboard a space station regardless of threat level. I mean, just as an example.
This title might seem a misnomer, as this mild-mannered British production does not provide its audience much in the way of chills or thrills. For characters in the movie, I suppose the moniker may be more apt, but many of the emotions on display are too restrained for such easy classification. Some anger is displayed, sure, and the young lass played by Susan George spends much of her screen time FREAKING OUT – her mewling, whimpering, sobbing, puling and so forth obscuring her Saxon patois till it’s all but incomprehensible at times – but all this really accomplishes is to annoy the living hell out of certain viewers, such as this one. This film actually is more or less a rumination on various mental states, and does not convey the sensation one reasonably might expect. It does, however, contain a few oddities. The police are depicted as almost comically inutile, seemingly by design, and a thought-provoking sequence involves one of them getting “the gun” out of its secure locked storage. Cultural differences! In addition, one of the characters is a toddler who seems sedated throughout much of his screen time. Overall, the picture feels rather disjointed and haphazard.
Featuring the absolute worst creature costume since at least the embarrassing Howard the Duck, this production derails itself by punching above its class, so to speak. Ambition is a fine, fine attribute to possess, but man, if you do not have the budgetary capabilities to make your mysterious and deadly lake predator look like anything but a guy wearing a rubber suit, you might want to consider taking your script in a different direction. (This applies even if making low-budget horror is your backer’s stated goal – and specialty, in the case of Larry Fessenden, overseer of Glass Eye Pix and its ScareFlix subsidiary, whose banner flies over Hypothermia.) The ultimate shame of it is that aside from a few acting performances that aren’t quite professional grade, this little ice fishing movie had some potential. It’s also a little shy on running time and has a non-ending to rival any other you’ve ever seen. And, possibly, to “top” it.
Confession time: It will in no way be possible for me to describe in mere words this incredible movie, and trust me, when I say “incredible,” I mean it. What we have here is one of the most completely batshit cinematic wonders ever concocted. Just about every time I was convinced nothing could top what I had just seen, well, you can probably guess where I’m going with this. How even to begin … Loath as I am to provide spoilers in these reviews (or indeed, as you may have noticed, much relevant information at all), let me relate to you this movie’s plot. A cruise ship is rammed by an unmanned Nazi vessel that pilots itself and is apparently sentient. It’s also bloodthirsty. No, really, the ship needs blood. We know this because after former cruise ship captain George Kennedy is taken over by the evil spirit of Death Ship, he informs his would-be successor Richard Crenna, when revealing his/its plans to kill said would-be successor and his family. (This is ¾ of the way through; almost everyone else who survived the initial calamitous event has already been bumped off by D. S.) Luckily for me, I was watching a version of this insanity that was helpfully subtitled, so as to highlight the ace dialogue, and treating me to captions such as [almighty crash], [explosion], and my personal favorite, [faint sounds of torture and suffering]. Although assuredly unintentional, this film is nonetheless a laugh riot.
Okay. Well. The sequel to the previously discussed paragon of benevolence and good feelings Offspring, this lighthearted jest manages to outdo its predecessor in casting aspersions on the boundaries of human behavior. And that’s accomplished long before the revolting gore brightens things up. Starting its bleak portrayal of life in human society limning a few quirks and oddities, gradually revealing more depravity layer by layer and eventually producing complete incredulity, this movie is a skillful demonstration of how to achieve perfection in the art of shining a light on things your audience probably would have felt better never, ever seeing. A true sickie, horrible in almost every way by textbook definition.
For the majority of its 90 minutes or so, this is more of a sex farce than a horror movie. Indeed, at times it reminded me of such bygone classics as Clue, as well as such bygone duds as the Sly Stallone vehicle Oscar. Numerous suspicious or threatening characters abound and … actually, all of the characters are suspicious, as it becomes increasingly more unclear who is trying to kill whom, or why. At long length, it does eventually swing into scary movie mode, but its overweening hucksterism is never superseded. It’s possible this film slipped through the cracks because it has a few moments that are too gory for what is essentially a noirish comedy of manners. As is often the case with such madcap romps, the story doesn’t wind up making a whole lot of sense, either.
Like, wow, man. Like, I hadn’t even planned on watching this movie, but as I was about to start viewing The Woman, which I had contemplated doing for quite some time, I suddenly discovered it’s a sequel to this one, of which I had previously been unaware. And! Yikes. Allow me to take a moment here to offer an aside: Offspring novelist (and screenwriter) “Jack Ketchum” is a very, very effective purveyor of terribly unsettling material, and is in fact the author of the rare novel I did not finish because I found it too emotionally disruptive (The Girl Next Door). Nothing that occurs in this film is all that unprecedented in our filmic experience, but it is profoundly disturbing nonetheless. Ideals such as “fairness” and “justice” have no place in Ketchumland, and sometimes the action provokes a sense of outrage. It may, in some minds, border on the obscene. Anyway, this movie is about a clan of cannibals living a prehistoric tribal existence and preying on unsuspecting suburbanites. It also harbors a subplot of extreme marital discord and disharmony. Abandon all hope.
Despite being a “found footage” tale of a largely unknown or unseen threat producing psychological torment in a five-person crew in heavily forested mountains – and with passages that directly reminded this scribe of scenes from both 2014’s Backcountry and the excellent Bob Goldthwait-helmed Bigfoot adventure Willow Creek from 2013 – this French film is often rather effective, especially as the plight of the principal female protagonist spirals out of control. The fact that no attempt is made to tie up any of the loose ends of the exposition is also a plus, aiding as it does the documentary conceit. Even the fact that the main antagonist is somewhat less impressive than presented, even underwhelming, is forgivable – until it begins to seem a bit silly. Eventually one concludes he or she has seen all this before. Which is a bit of a shame, because this is a skillfully made movie. It just doesn’t quite deliver on its promise.
Apparently also known by the terribly baffling title Scared Alive, this is one baffling, terrible piece of filmmaking. Not only is the script lousy, and the acting, but it’s technically awful as well – a large portion of the movie takes place at night, in various dark locations, and is so poorly lit and filmed that it is often impossible to tell what is happening, or which characters are involved. At other times, it is also difficult to discern which characters are which for other reasons, leading to further confusion. During several onscreen conversations, I found myself wondering who the dialogue was referencing, being unable to place the name. (Since characters seemed to go unaccounted and reappear at random, this is perhaps not entirely my fault.) Probably not quite as bad as George Phblat’s infamous Benji Saves the Universe, but it’s gotta be close. The ridiculous murder-presaging song that plays incessantly throughout (it’s called “Face to Face”) is kinda catchy.
Short and inconsequential, this straight-to-video (and laserdisc!) offering is also kind of derivative, although there we go again … horror film, blab blah, &c. Not obviously reprising any particular movie – faint praise, perhaps, but it’s something – Dweller doesn’t seem sure what niche it wants to occupy. It’s not quite campy, not very funny or scary, and not nearly as outré as it seemingly wants to be. Jeffrey Combs has what amounts to a cameo setting up the action as a comic-book artist whose hideous creation comes to life, quite in keeping with his erstwhile cottage industry of acting in Lovecraftian roles. Also appearing for some reason: a cavalcade of onetime TV stars including those who played Lily Munster, Ben Casey and “Eric” from Head of the Class. One interesting thing this flick has going for it is its bummer ending, which seems especially odd in such an essentially lighthearted affair. Kinda not really worth it.
SPACE RATS From Outer Space 