Theme Song of the Week # 46: The Lone Ranger (1949-1957)

A Total Failure of Imagination

I try hard not to pre-judge movies that I haven't seen. To do so makes no sense...what am I judging if I haven't seen the final work of art?

I've counseled patience on the new J.J. Abrams Star Trek, for instance.

I want to wait and see what that experience will bring...and hope it will be something wonderful. I'm heavily invested in Star Trek as a long-time fan, but if I were to choose between another Next Gen movie or J.J. Abrams vetting a Batman Begins-style re-boot, I'd be for the latter. Nemesis cured me of any delusion that the Next Gen movies were on anything approaching the right track.

I can't honestly tell you that Rob Zombie's Halloween was worse than Halloween: Resurrection, either. Even if I had problems with Zombie's re-interpretation of the classic Carpenter material.

I'm also open-minded about the Friday the 13th remake, and was favorably impressed by the trailer for the remake of Last House on the Left. I even liked the re-imagination of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre as a pure "scare" experience, if not as the stunning work of art that Tobe Hooper so artistically crafted.

See? I try not to pre-judge. But I don't always succeed.

Case in point: Will Ferrell's Land of the Lost movie. I just feel grim, and a bit demoralized that a TV show I grew up has been transformed into that most horrible of mongrels: the Will Ferrell comedy of the week. Could it have been worse? Well, I guess it could have starred Adam Sandler. Or - shudder - Rob Schneider.

Yes, yes I know the Sleestaks look just like they did on the 1970s show. I realize there's a clear attempt in the film's production design to maintain fidelity to the look and feel of the original series. But frankly, that's the wrong kind of "faithful." It's faithful only to be...jokey, to point out how fake and campy everything crafted in the 1970s looks to us today. It's smug superiority masquerading as "faithful."

As my snarky brother-in-law said to me over the Christmas holiday: how does it feel to see your dream turned into a nightmare?

It seems to me that the one reason to undertake a remake of a TV show or movie is to improve and update it. I love the original Land of the Lost, but the special effects are indeed dated and it is clearly designed "for children." There's nothing wrong with that. I'm just saying that a Land of the Lost movie -- a movie faithful to the spirit of original series but made for adults, could be an incredible thing.

Imagine the awe of seeing those dinosaurs for the first time on the big screen. Imagine the terror of first encountering updated Sleestak. Imagine Land of the Lost's environmental message (about various "tribes" getting along to take care of the planet), re-tooled for an age in which that message is really and truly important. I remember how Land of the Lost fed my childhood obsession with all things dinosaurs, and wonder if the new movie will have that same impact.

For all those reasons, a serious, adventurous, exciting and scary Land of the Lost movie -- along the lines of Jurassic Park -- could be a wondrous thing. The series offers a great premise, after all, and there are some great locations, creatures and characters to be mined.

But the best our slick pop-culture age can muster is a jokey Will Ferrell comedy.

A product that makes fun of the original show, and that plays Chaka, the Sleestak, the pocket universe...even the dinosaurs, for easy, cheap laughs. It's easier to mock something people have nostalgia for, I suppose, then go that extra mile and write a good, serious script, and shoot a believable fantasy adventure.

We've all heard that fanboy comment about our collective childhoods being raped by modern Hollywood. That's certainly an over-statement, but this Land of the Lost remake represents a total failure of the imagination on the conceptual level, a cheap shot for easy money. Am I pre-judging the movie? I guess I am: I'm saying that any movie called Land of the Lost shouldn't be a Will Ferrell Anchorman/Blades of Glory-style comedy. The movie may prove to be a very funny comedy, but that won't change the fact that the entire enterprise was conceived in cynicism.

Will Ferrell's Land of the Lost isn't going to rape my childhood this summer, but it certainly is..pillaging it.

Premio Dardo Winner!

Happy Monday, everybody! The fantastic (and award-winning) blogger Amanda By Night at Made for TV Mayhem has bestowed upon me and this blog the prestigious Premio Dardo Award. Wow!

This blogger-to-blogger accolade "acknowledges the values that every blogger shows in his or her effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary, and personal values every day."

It's a great privilege to be acknowledged for this honor, especially from a blogger I admire so deeply. Made for TV Mayhem is one of the handful of blogs I follow religiously, and which I enjoy tremendously. Anyone who understands an obsession with Tiffany Bolling is a friend for life in my book. Thank you, Amanda!

I must confess, I don't really understand how precisely all this works (I'm a bit of a dunce when it comes to the community of blogging...), so permit me to go by the rules:

1) Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award and his or her blog link.


2) Pass the award to 4 other blogs that are worthy of this acknowledgment. Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.

Okay, so now it is incumbent on me to pass along this Premio Dardo decoration to five bloggers whom I feel ably transmit cultural, ethical, literary and personal values every day. Let's do it!

1.) Theofantastique: This meeting place for myth, imagination and mystery in pop culture is a tireless and meticulous effort. The approach is commendably cerebral, and the author, John Morehead is not only curious and thoughtful, but a highly-skilled communicator. John focuses on books, films, television and the history of the horror genre with enthusiasm and a keen intellectual eye.

2.) Zombos Closet of Horror: This dedicated blogger, Iloz Zoc, is the founder and organizer of the League of Tana Tea Drinkers, not to mention a bonafide wit. First, my hat is off to him for wrangling a wide cross-section of authors, and bloggers (herding cats?) with such aplomb, spirit and frankly...love. More to the point, Zombos Closet of Horror is a blog I follow on a daily basis, because I.Z. offers unbridled passion for the horror genre. He also knows how to turn a memorable phrase in an amusing, sharp and appropriately macabre fashion. His writing is perpetually funny and absorbing. Horror conventions and toys, movies old and new -- they're all covered here with a fresh perspective.

3.) Vault of Horror: this is where I go to get my horror news, and pretty much on a daily basis at that. B-Sol is the genius behind all those controversial and inspiring Cyber-Elite lists that have been burning up the Internets lately, but that's only the tip of the machete, so-to-speak. You'll find news stories, reviews, lists, obits, trenchant commentary and much more at Vault of Horror. A must-read horror blog...and if it's been more than a few hours since I checked it out, I feel empty inside.

4.) Plaid Stallions: This is where I head when I need a toy nostalgia fix. Plaid Stallions is an impressive and beautifully-designed daily blog dedicated to a remembrance of all things from the pop-culture of the 1970s, but especially the toys I grew up with. There are great post categories here, from crazy catalog photos of the disco decade, to retro-playgrounds (!), to images of old toy stores and their displays. I don't want to grow up...I'm a Plaid Stallions kid.

Thank you again, Amanda, for thinking of me for this award. It means a lot to me.

Ms. Psychic Vibrations at Quantum Imprimaturs

Alicia A. Wood, who plays Theresa Melita -- the psychic astronaut -- on The House Between, and who happens to be a dear friend of mine, is interviewed over at Quantum Imprimaturs today.

Alicia has been amazing on The House Between, not merely learning and expertly performing all my crazy, lengthy dialogue, but crafting an original and intriguing "sci-fi" character (whom I once half-jokingly called my resident alien).

Here's a snippet of Alicia's interview:


How would you describe the character of Theresa?

Theresa is honest, self assured, and analytical. She thinks she is an unemotional, detached observer, (and seems to want to present herself that way,) but we see her attachments to the other denizens grow, and softness comes out more and more as the series progresses. Don't get me wrong, she'll never be the damsel in distress, girly type, but her hard shell may have some cracks in it. She is very aware of others feelings and thoughts, though not always sensitive to them. She is open minded in the sense that she's receptive to new ideas, but at the same time, she can be stubborn in the way she views thinking not like her own.

What is her family and career background?

Theresa was a graduate student before the near fatal accident that forever changed the course of her life. She started her "career" under Professor Vincenzo's wing, learning to become a psychic astronaut. She was raised at Cape Cod by humble, unpretentious, upper- middle class parents. They were loving parents, but their conservative natures wouldn't allow them to accept her after her NDE. They saw that she had changed, and rejected her when her path changed to one of a psychic astronaut. They did not approve of Professor Vincenzo's teachings.


Where did the name Melita come from?

Leave it to John to find a way to incorporate obscure references & hidden meanings into everything. He tells me that "Melita" comes from a word meaning "affording honey," or "bee." And since Theresa can sting like a bee or be sweet like honey, I thought it was an appropriate name -- reflecting both her strength and her gentleness. Melita is also the last name of a famous author who wrote a book about astral projection."

Vault of Horror's Cyber-Elite Returns With the Top 20 Foreign Horror Movies of All-Time!

B-Sol at the great genre blog Vault of Horror has just gone live with another "Cyber-Elite" post.

This time, the dedicated cabal of horror film lovers has selected the top twenty foreign horror movies of all time.

And yes, It's another tally certain to spur controversy and debate (good things, in my book...). Especially because Italy's output is so lightly represented overall.

And, well, if I've learned anything in the last few years...don't mess with Italian horror movie fans. They'll never forgive you. Hell hath no fury like an Italian horror movie fan scorned.

A quick scan of the Cyber-Elite list reveals that six of my personal top ten foreign horrors made the group list, which is a pretty good number, I reckon.

Alas, two of my high-ranking choices, Don't Look Now (1973) and Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) didn't make the final cut. D'oh!

You can check out the entire list here. Below I include a snippet of the top five. I had three of these on my top ten (but I'll leave you to guess which ones. But yes, one of my top two choices was indeed Italian...):


1. Let the Right One In (2003) – Sweden
2. Suspiria (1977) – Italy
3. Cemetery Man (1994) – Italy
4. Nosferatu (1922) – Germany
5. Diaboliques (1955) – France

CULT MOVIE REVIEW: 28 Weeks Later (2007)

The terrific 2002 zombie stomp 28 Days Later didn't require a sequel. It was brilliant, involving and entirely tormenting all on its own.

But after finally screening the nerve-racking 28 Weeks Later, I'm delighted Danny Boyle (as executive producer this time...) went ahead and made this sequel.

Because the follow-up film from Juan Carlos Fresnadillo is a surprisingly worthy continuation of the story. More than that, the harrowing sequel fulfills the highest aesthetic criteria of any film project: it reflects (to an often-alarming degree...) the turbulent times in which we live. So this is a horror movie sequel that is both scary and relevant.

And it isn't a remake or re-imagination, either.

After a bloody, fast-moving prologue set during the apex of the rage virus in England (the period covered in the original Boyle film), the movie jumps forward the titular 28 weeks to a span when the plague is quelled, and British citizens are slowly being repatriated to to an abandoned London. Specifically, American soldiers have moved into the eerily quiescent metropolis and been tasked with the impossible: reconstruction of an entire country. They also safeguard "The Green Zone" (or District 1), where 15,000 healthy civilians await the final clean up of the surrounding areas so they can resume their interrupted lives. Outside the green zone are rats, wild dogs, and contaminated food and water...

Quite plainly, the sub-text of 28 Weeks Later is nation-building in Iraq, and the difficult nature of the American post-war occupation. The dormant "rage virus" in the film is the equivalent of the "Insurgency" in reality. And like that insurgency, the plague is believed (by the Americans) to have suffered its "last throes." To the contrary, however, it returns more powerfully than ever. This fact throws all of London and the American forces into absolute chaos, necessitating a "surge" of firepower which consists of indiscriminate fire bombing, poison gas, and even a deliberate massacre of civilians. In the end, there are too few American forces to contain the disaster, and it expands -- in a horrifying epilogue -- to France.

The careful viewer may also detect a few resonances of the post-Katrina disaster in 28 Weeks Later, as innocent civilians become trapped in various buildings while outside disaster spreads. Despite this particular connection, the film nonetheless draws it's strongest energy from its examination of American military might...and the limits of that power.

One of the film's central characters, an American soldier named Doyle (Jeremy Renner), stops seeing the civilians as "targets" and starts viewing them as people. After being ordered to kill civilians, he breaks rank and goes to the aid of a handful of civilians. Far from being a "bad apple" (how the Bush people termed the torturers at Abu Ghraib), Doyle is most definitely a "good apple." He doesn't lose sight of his humanity, he doesn't blindly follow bad orders, and he is an entirely positive depiction of an American soldier. I found this to be an enormous relief, frankly. Doyle's young, loud and goofy, but he's a hero too: ready and able to do the right thing when the situation warrants it; even if it means laying down his life.

I also admired the under-the-surface notion presented in 28 Weeks Later that "humanity" -- if given the opportunity to spread -- can ultimately prove as "contagious" as the deadly rage virus. A likable American doctor (Rose Byrne) commits to saving two children in the film - Tammy (Imogene Poots) and Andy (Mackintosh Muggleton) - and her steadfast commitment rubs off on Doyle; who then passes it on to a Special Forces Helicopter Pilot (Harold Perrineau).

28 Weeks Later is packed wall-to-wall with inventive conceits like that; ones that successfully distinguish it from its modern zombie brethren. The movie raises the specter, for instance, of a Rage Virus Typhoid Mary - a carrier - and that's an original wrinkle aqmidst the zombie apocalypse.

Also, one of the main characters here, Don (Robert Carlyle), is quickly proven a despicable coward in the film's bravura opening passage and then presented as our lead for the next half-hour or so. Don abandons his beloved wife during a zombie attack on a farm house, flees the area by boat, and then makes his way to the Green Zone...where he greets his children, the aforementioned Andy and Tammy. All during these scenes, the viewer wonders: if Don is willing to abandon his own wife when the going gets tough, how is he going to protect his kids when the inevitable zombie attack comes?

Ultimately, however, the use to which Don (and Carlyle himself...) is put in the larger narrative proves far less innovative than that neat set-up suggests. We never get the chance to see what Don would do the second time he is faced with choosing between possible death and rescuing his family.

Instead, Don simply becomes an improbably long-lived rage zombie who survives one attack after another and pops up (conveniently...) for a final scare. I suppose that an intrepid film historian might consider Don a kind of homage to Bub in Day of the Dead (1985) or the lead zombie in Land of the Dead (2005), but giving the zombies a distinct leader doesn't work particularly well here. The overriding force in 28 Weeks Later is the rising tide of chaos: the ways in which one disaster leads to another and another. With zombies running around in great numbers, that idea is powerful enough without an identifiable "leader." The message may simply be that Don -- whether a person or a zombie -- is a "survivor." However, the ease with which this single, unarmed zombie outlasts fire bombing, gassing and rifle snipers simply raises too many questions of believability.

One of the reasons 28 Weeks Later succeeds so ably for the most part is that it logically and impressively expands the scenario of 28 Days Later, tending toward the spectacular. There are some amazing special effects in the film, particularly the fire bombing of London. And one scene -- involving a helicopter's massacre of attacking zombies in a field -- is an amazing horror set-piece the likes of which you've imagined (thanks to a propeller decapitation scene in Dawn of the Dead [1979]) but never considered possible on this scale.

Juan Carlos Fresnadillo also proves capable with the more intimate "creep" sequences. A descent into a pitch-black subway makes excellent use of "night vision," for instance. And Tammy and Andy's trip (on a moped) through abandoned, ruined London successfully evokes many historical "abandoned city" movies, from The World, The Flesh and The Devil (1959) to Omega Man (1971).

I detected Fresnadillo chasing his tail in only one important sequence. When Don (now a zombie...) breaks into a containment area where civilians are crowded in the dark, the film lingers on make-up that isn't that good, relies on slow-motion photography that reveals too much, and suffers from too many incoherent quick cuts. The scene is a melange of confusion, a virtual disaster (perhaps form echoing content?) but I imagine it was not meant to be so visually unappealing. Fortunately, this weak scene is followed by a virtuoso, nail-biting rooftop sniper sequence involving Doyle, and 28 Weeks Later quickly goes back on track.

I doubt that a second follow-up to Boyle's original -- 28 Months Later? -- is a necessity. However, if a third film in this Brit zombie saga is crafted with the overall skill, intelligence and imagination of this scary sequel, then Romero's zombie cycle may truly have some stiff competition in the franchise department.

CULT MOVIE REVIEW: Dr. Strangelove or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)

"Gentleman! You can't fight in here! This is the War Room!"

-President Merkin Muffley (Peter Sellers) attempts to defuse an international brawl inside the Pentagon in Stanley Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove (1964).

This classic film from the auteur of 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), The Shining (1980) and Eyes Wide Shut (1999) remains a bit of a paradox. It's a comedy concerning deeply unfunny matters, particularly nuclear war...and the end of the human race.

However, the film didn't start out as an absurd comedy. In fact, the movie's screenplay is based on a serious, carefully-researched Cold War literary thriller from author Peter George.

However, as history records, when Kubrick started investigating how easy it would be to trigger an accidental global nuclear war, the director registered and collated the "absurdities" involved in the doomsday scenario. Those absurdities became the bedrock of a new script...and a blistering satire was born.

In its new format Dr. Strangelove is a black comedy of human errors, serving specifically as a scathing critique of something utterly irrational: an entire (profitable...) industry and hierarchy devoted to the destruction of our very species. Kubrick's targets in Dr. Strangelove are politicians, soldiers, the press, intellectuals...even the scientific community itself. All of these folks dutifully play their assigned (incompetent) roles in the film's Global Annihilation, just cogs in a vast machine devoted to the End of Life on Earth as We Know It.

As you may recall, Dr. Strangelove involves a plot by psychotic U.S. General Jack D. Ripper (Sterling Hayden), stationed at Burpleson Air Force Base. Ripper transmits false orders -- "Wing Attack Plan R" -- to a fleet of B52s comprising America's "Airborne Alert Force," instructing them to drop their nuclear payloads across the Soviet Union.

Unfortunately, Ripper is also the only man with the correct recall code, an inconvenient fact which necessitates some high-level one-on-one telephone diplomacy between daft American President Muffley (Peter Sellers) and drunken Soviet Premier Kisov (pronounced Kiss Off).

Meanwhile, aboard one airborne B52, Major "King" Kong (Slim Pickens) breaks through the Russian defense net and prepares to drop two nuclear bombs on Russian targets, blissfully unaware the world is not really at war. When the bomb bay doors jam, the patriotic Kong activates them manually...and exuberantly rides a warhead down to its terrestrial target. Yee Haw!

But there's another level to this global crisis. Even one nuclear detonation on CCCP soil will trigger the Soviet Union's new "doomsday machine," a defensive device that will eradicate all human and animal life on Earth.

Still, all is not lost. President Muffley's scientific advisor, the wheel-chair bound German, Dr. Strangelove (Peter Sellers again), offers a contingency plan if tomorrow is indeed doomsday. It involves retrofitted mine-shafts, an American eugenics program, and a ratio of ten women to every man...

While generals, politicians and scientists debate that particular (ludicrous) future and their roles in it, this world -- our world -- comes to an end in a series of fiery (but oddly beautiful...) nuclear mushrooms. Bombs explode in a gorgeous montage, to the tune "We'll Meet Again"...

In case you can't tell from that synopsis, Dr. Strangelove is a cold, bleak movie with a black, merciless, unforgiving heart.

As a form, satire is often cold and dispassionate, so this approach is to be expected to some degree. But Kubrick's film work almost ubiquitously features an icy, cerebral disposition all its own, a fact which makes Dr. Strangelove doubly chilling.

With an unflinching eye and total lack of compassion, Kubrick walks the audience through nuclear apocalypse and is so blunt, so matter-of-fact, so unforgiving in his depiction of the fools causing this disaster that we have no choice but to laugh. The bigger the disaster...the more we laugh. This occurs, in part, because we register the utter absurdity of the situation; and it dawns on us (slowly at first) that we have no one to blame...but ourselves. This is the world we made.

So Nuclear Armageddon is nigh, and stiff-upper lipped British exchange officer Mandrake (Sellers once more...) doesn't have enough small change to call the President on a pay phone and provide the recall code that could avert disaster.

So General Turgidson (George S. Scott) chews gum incessantly during a Pentagon Briefing and suggests that if nuclear war can't be averted then Hell, we should try to win it!

So a B52 pilot is seen studying something (off-screen with extreme scrutiny in the cockpit of his war plane...but a reverse angle reveals not the complex workings of technology, but a Playboy Centerfold.

So an idiot foot soldier, "Bat" Guano (Keenan Wynn) distrusts the heroic Mandrake because he is British (and possibly a "prevert"). So Gauno worries at a time of international crisis about shooting a vending machine because he's afraid to answer to "The Coca-Cola Company."

So the President himself is an Egghead Intellectual. He can't even bring himself to inform the Russian Premier what's occurred ("He went and did something silly, Dmitri...").

So His generals are warmongers and lunatics (paging General Boykin!), the Russians get all their inside information from The New York Times, and Dr. Strangelove is an unrepentant Nazi who twice mistakenly calls President Muffley "Mein Fuhrer."

Everyone involved in this debacle, it seems, is a dolt. These men aren't exactly profiles in courage (and, perhaps by design, there's only one woman who appears in the film, landing blame squarely on the less-fair sex...).

What one can detect so clearly here in Dr. Strangelove is a deranged patriarchy of destruction and blood lust marching blithely along, literally on "auto pilot," ready to spur worldwide destruction...even if no nation (and no official government...) consciously seeks such destruction. With sharp eye, and sharper dialogue, Kubrick exposes a seemingly-basic quality of men: his compulsive flirtation with self-destruction. That flirtation is even more dangerous in the Cold War Age of computers, ICBMs, and other modern "conveniences." The machines don't cause the end of the world; they just make the end of the world that much easier for men to accidentally start.

Kubrick gets terrific performances out of his cast here, particularly the multi-talented Peter Sellers, but equally memorable is his ironic use of music. "We'll Meet Again" is a paean to man's cycle of war and death, which never seems to end. "Try a Little Tenderness" transforms a mid-air warplane refueling procedure into something akin to robot sexual intercourse, and "Johnny Comes Marching Home" is continuously played to mock the blind patriotism of "our boys" on their fool's errand.

If the sound design of Dr. Strangelove is undeniably brilliant, Kubrick's mastery of images is even more so. The now-famous composition of Slim Pickens riding a nuclear warhead like a bucking bronco at a rodeo is fully part of the American pop culture lexicon at this point. However, it actually says something important about our country too. It reveals how the American "cowboy" mentality has become dangerously coupled with frightening, destructive technology. Swaggering machismo and technological terror are a bad combination, as we've seen in the years since Dr. Strangelove...and Kubrick understood that fact at a relatively early date.

Kubrick's War Room (created by frequent James Bond production designer Ken Adam) is another memorable image: the ultimate smoke-filled room; the ultimate boy's club. There are technological toys and blinking lights aplenty (like General Turgidson's beloved "Big Board") but nothing really gets accomplished here. The War Room is nothing but an elaborate sandbox, where the boy with the loudest voice holds sway.

I also admire the language of Dr. Strangelove. The U.S. Army has a motto in the film: "Peace is Our Profession." Yes, it's absolutely Orwellian, and again, we've had some experience with that in recent years. And if the events of the movie are any indication of that slogan's veracity, then the Army is utterly incompetent.

I also love how the B52's "auto destruct" well, auto-destructs, and how the nuclear warheads are obsessively labeled with such legends as "handle with care" and "this side down." Again, there's a method to the madness: Kubrick is showing us how we have turned the most horrifying weapons of mass destruction into things that we (mistakenly) believe are safe.

Oh yes, handle that nuclear warhead with care! But a nuclear bomb is not a carton of cigarettes: it can do significantly more damage than the label indicates. And, as Kubrick seems to remind us here, some people in politics and the military have forgotten that fact. We have taken for granted the power of the weapons we have created, and done little to assure that they don't come back and bite us on the ass.

Dr. Strangelove is a film that likely couldn't even be produced in today's conservative climate because -- among other things -- it plainly mocks some aspects of the military mentality. And if America is unanimously about anything these days, it's mindlessly "supporting the troops." No matter what their particular endeavor. No matter what their orders.

But God Bless the late Kubrick for pointing out, rightly, that the military is only as strong as the weakest link in the chain, only as good as the orders it executes. Importantly, Dr. Strangelove depicts both an obstructionist ignoramus, his "boots on the ground," Bat Guano and a bat-shit crazy General, Jack D. Ripper, who launches a nuclear war because he tends to feel inferior about...something personal; something in the bedroom. The personal deficits of these men have consequences for the world.

Again, the point is made concisely (and in amusing fashion): a soldier must not just blindly follow orders; but follow the right orders. The old excuse "I was just following orders" doesn't quite cut the mustard when the scenario involves global nuclear apocalypse.

Kubrick's targets are many here, but I believe he reserves his most egregious contempt for the macho military man. Dr. Strangelove's opening shot is of a phallus-shaped warplane nose as it refuels in mid-air. That love song ("Try a Little Tenderness") plays over the refueling process and you realize that perhaps this is indeed what "love" is in the Cold War Epoch. Men who can't love, who only love killing, have created machines that love because they can't. They have recreated the "act" of love, subconsciously, in the design and activities of their glorified war machines.

You can see how this conceit plays out again in relation to Jack D. Ripper, the man who precipitates the global nuclear war. More than anything, he fears "loss of essence," and that the Russians are out to steal "precious" American "bodily fluids." He informs Mandrake that he does not avoid women, but that he "denies" them his "essence" (meaning semen). Again, the idea seems to be that certain macho men compensate for certain sexual failings...with killing, with bloodshed, with war.

Gaze just below the surface and you can see how sex and sexual dysfunction are the subtext of Dr. Strangelove, not merely in the graphic "refueling" shot, but in the very names of the dramatis personae. President "Muffley" is a pussy, literally and metaphorically. "Kisov" is Kiss Off. Major Kong rides a bomb to impact...another substitution, perhaps, for the sexual act. General Turgidson even speaks of sex in terms of military terminology, telling his mistress to start a "countdown" until Old Bucky Turgidson "blasts off."

Given this surfeit of sexual imagery and allusion, the final images of Dr. Strangelove perhaps represent a collective orgasm of sorts; the explosive release of all the anger, hostility and hatred these swaggering cowboys have held inside for so long; a nuclear ejaculation that takes down the whole world. If these men can't love -- if they can't create -- they will destroy. All of us.

And "We'll Meet Again" is an explicit warning from Stanley Kubrick. Once we replenish our "essence," we'll likely be ready to go again.

Countdown to blast off, honey, we're all gonna ride that missile...

Eaten Alive At A Chainsaw Massacre Excerpt

"...the soundtrack is dominated by the sounds of dirt crunching, a discordant whine (part of the music track) and then of periodic camera flashes "clicking" away. On screen, quick cuts of a rotting, decayed corpse are seen in close-up, surrounded by utter darkness. After a short span of these disgusting close-up "flashes," the first fully-lit, recognizable composition of the film is revealed: that of a body displayed atop a cemetery monument. A ghoulish work of art.

The camera originates the shot with a close-up of the corpse's goopy-looking face (replete with a full set of teeth, which gives the impression of a smile), and then pulls back to reveal that his dead body has been "posed," as if indeed a masterpiece of art. Behind and above the corpse hangs a marmalade sky, with the sung hanging low. In one sense, this sequence depicts the particulars of a grave robbing (from the shovel shifting the dirt above the corpse's plot, to the perpetrator proudly snapping photos of his handiwork), but in another, this opening gambit is evidence of Hooper's new world disorder.

The first real composition of Chain Saw is of the dead propped up, perched outside of a grave and positioned under the light of he sun, instead of below the earth in the dark and gloom of the grave. The image of the posed corpse simultaneously suggest that madness reigns in this universe, and that the architect of madness has an unconventional eye for beauty art.

For as certainly as the Hitchhiker and Leatherface are sick in their hobbies, they have an undeniable knack with arts and crafts..."

- from my analysis of Texas Chain Saw Massacre, page 55. Eaten Alive at a Chainsaw Massacre: The Films of Tobe Hooper (McFarland; 2002), now in softcover.

Now Available In Softcover: Eaten Alive At A Chainsaw Massacre: The Films of Tobe Hooper

"...Muir does an excellent job of chronicling his [Tobe Hooper's] career. The history and overview section tells us how the films were made, supplying us with behind-the-scenes stories....I don't know how many of you are going to rush out and rent the director's films...but the author does a great job talking about each movie, finding parallels in a few of his films to, of all things, Alice in Wonderland...I'm all for studies about different directors, and Tobe Hooper...is an inspired choice. That it [the book] is so appreciative and smart is a bonus."-CLASSIC IMAGES, January 2003, page 38.

"...John Kenneth Muir asserts that plenty of trademarks are present in Hooper's films, even if spotting them requires more than a cursory glance. Muir's talent for identifying patterns among the minutiae (visual, thematic or otherwise) serves him well in this exhaustive critique....Muir also documents Hooper's penchant for subtle satire and his long-standing affinity for storylines featuring multiple antagonists working in tandem....Accordingly, Muir paints us a picture of an important horror icon..."-John W. Bowen, RUE MORGUE: NINTH CIRCLE BOOKS, January/February 2003, page 57.

"The book kicks off with a well-written and curt introduction...The 'commentary' sections are what Muir is all about.....My two favourite allegories though are his comparison of TCM to Alice in Wonderland and Poltergeist as an attack on president Ronald Reagan's lassez-faire domestic policies. Engrossing stuff...If you are a fan of Hooper, a film analyst or want to re-examine his work then this book is essential. It drips with a care and attention that would put some authors of similar material to shame. Muir's passion for the genre and his appreciation for Hooper, are infectious. 4 (out of 5) Chainsaws." WITHIN THE WOODS, September, 2004.

"Eaten Alive at a Chainsaw Massacre is a zany and entertaining examination of a director often overlooked in his field...Muir deftly places Hooper among the inarguable masters of the horror film such as John Carpenter, Wes Craven and George Romero. Recommended for all large film collections and also to be added to libraries with Muir's previous books on directors John Carpenter...and Wes Craven."- Mimi Davis, THE SHY LIBRARIAN, Summer 2003, page 39.

"His reporting on the first two CHAINSAW films makes for compelling reading on behind-the-scenes terrors; he also delves deeply into the Hooper-or-Spielberg controversy surrounding POLTERGEIST....Horror fans will want to read this, regardless of their stance on the director." - HITCH MAGAZINE # 33, Spring 2003.

Eaten Alive at a Chainsaw Massacre: The Films of Tobe Hooper is available (in hardcover or softback) at Amazon.com.

Sci Fi Wisdom of the Week

"Well why not a space flower? Why do we always expect metal ships?"

-Nancy Bellicec (Veronica Cartwright) ponders an alien presence on Earth, from the 1978 remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

Theme Song of the Week 45: Friday the 13th: The Series (1987-1990)