★★★
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Sunday, December 21, 2014
December 21: Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe (1940 -- Ford Beebe & Ray Taylor)
★★★
This Flash Gordon serial is at least as engaging as the two earlier and, in some ways, even more so. Like the two previous, it starts with a threat to the earth, but while the other serials spend some time on discovery of the problem and pulling together a response, by the time this series has told us about the threat, Flash, Dale and Zarkov are already in space and engaged in an air battle. And just as the episode's opening benefits from the condensed story, the rest of these episodes compress action and race forward.
Art director Harold MacArthur appears to have been given free rein to use any costumes he could find at Universal, and he embraced that freedom with relish. Flash starts his adventures with his hunky body discretely wrapped in a military uniform, but he’s soon in tights and a Cossack hat, showing his contours. Queen Fria’s court has an historical drama look that sometimes slips into a beauty pageant, while Ming and those who dance for him suggest an oriental adventure. The local costume of Prince Barin’s realm appears to be cut from Robin Hood films with caps, sweeping feathers, tights and tunics. And there are some plucky rock men in papier-mâché costumes perhaps created for the series. The art design here is a great overview of the look of film of the 30s.
But the US was preparing for war in 1940, and that atmosphere is clear in many elements of this Flash Gordon. While air battles had been a staple of the series, they’re far more common here than in previous Flash serials. Ming is occasionally called a “dictator” instead of an emperor here, and there’s a whiff of eugenics in Fria’s condescension to the Rock People who, being dumb and blocky, should die. Flash’s initial uniform is yet another index of the times, as are the long-range canon and the bombing of the castle. And the presence of double agents and spies on both sides are new to the Flash serials, too.
And like the other series, Flash 40 lends itself to playing Spot-the-Star-Wars-Elements. The game can start early as the first narrative titles, which scroll from the bottom of the page and recede into space above, just like they do in all the Star Wars movies. Cloaking devices render spacecraft invisible to opposing armies, and Ming’s programed robots attack Flash & co. Of course, there is both an emperor and a princess here, and there’s a particularly strong connection between the Rock People and the Jawa traders in Episode IV. The Rock People blend in and out of the environment and speak their own language, just as we see the Jawa do on Tatooine. It’s a striking connection.
But the most fun in this Flash Gordon is the rush from one noble act to the next and the sincerity that Buster Crabb brings to the hero. At one point here, Zarkov says of Ming: “We can destroy him and his palace, but that would mean our death as well.” Undeterred, Flash responds, “It would be worth it if we could save the universe by doing so.”
They just don’t make ‘em like that anymore.
This Flash Gordon serial is at least as engaging as the two earlier and, in some ways, even more so. Like the two previous, it starts with a threat to the earth, but while the other serials spend some time on discovery of the problem and pulling together a response, by the time this series has told us about the threat, Flash, Dale and Zarkov are already in space and engaged in an air battle. And just as the episode's opening benefits from the condensed story, the rest of these episodes compress action and race forward.
Art director Harold MacArthur appears to have been given free rein to use any costumes he could find at Universal, and he embraced that freedom with relish. Flash starts his adventures with his hunky body discretely wrapped in a military uniform, but he’s soon in tights and a Cossack hat, showing his contours. Queen Fria’s court has an historical drama look that sometimes slips into a beauty pageant, while Ming and those who dance for him suggest an oriental adventure. The local costume of Prince Barin’s realm appears to be cut from Robin Hood films with caps, sweeping feathers, tights and tunics. And there are some plucky rock men in papier-mâché costumes perhaps created for the series. The art design here is a great overview of the look of film of the 30s.
But the US was preparing for war in 1940, and that atmosphere is clear in many elements of this Flash Gordon. While air battles had been a staple of the series, they’re far more common here than in previous Flash serials. Ming is occasionally called a “dictator” instead of an emperor here, and there’s a whiff of eugenics in Fria’s condescension to the Rock People who, being dumb and blocky, should die. Flash’s initial uniform is yet another index of the times, as are the long-range canon and the bombing of the castle. And the presence of double agents and spies on both sides are new to the Flash serials, too.
And like the other series, Flash 40 lends itself to playing Spot-the-Star-Wars-Elements. The game can start early as the first narrative titles, which scroll from the bottom of the page and recede into space above, just like they do in all the Star Wars movies. Cloaking devices render spacecraft invisible to opposing armies, and Ming’s programed robots attack Flash & co. Of course, there is both an emperor and a princess here, and there’s a particularly strong connection between the Rock People and the Jawa traders in Episode IV. The Rock People blend in and out of the environment and speak their own language, just as we see the Jawa do on Tatooine. It’s a striking connection.
But the most fun in this Flash Gordon is the rush from one noble act to the next and the sincerity that Buster Crabb brings to the hero. At one point here, Zarkov says of Ming: “We can destroy him and his palace, but that would mean our death as well.” Undeterred, Flash responds, “It would be worth it if we could save the universe by doing so.”
They just don’t make ‘em like that anymore.
Saturday, December 20, 2014
Friday, December 19, 2014
December 19: The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (2013 -- Peter Jackson)
★★★
The Desolation of Smaug is a small step up from 2012’s
Hobbit. One of the improvements here is
that the action sequences, still long, are more fun than those in Jackson’s
2012 film. Smaug features a lively
barrel run with the dwarves in the barrels being pursued by orcs onshore, who
are themselves pursued by elves. The
bouncing barrels coupled with the aggressive orcs and agile elves makes for far
more animated, martial arts-inflected fun than does a similarly active sequence in the first Hobbit, where dwarves
are tossing plates around in Bilbo’s house. And though this film pauses overly long to
allow Bilbo and Smaug to engage in the Lonely Mountain, Smaug’s slithering,
sardonic fire breathing is more interesting that the overly long escape of the
dwarves from the goblin underground in The Hobbit.
Another improvement is a subtlety that exists here more than
in the previous Hobbit. Throughout The Desolation of Smaug, we encounter hints and signs
of the expansion of evil. We learn, for example, that the spider
incursions are getting worse in Mirkwood, and we see that the Nazgûl tombs are
empty, surely a bad sign but one we can't completely interpret. While the orc armies of Azog and the reveal of Sauron are rightly
on-the-nose, little signs like the tired weakness of Thranduil and the isolated Smaug's awareness of Sauron’s rise all imply the increasing range of evil rather than making it explicit with exposition. And on a purely visual level that the dialog doesn't even note, Smaug's eye looks remarkably like Sauron. This Hobbit film has much more subtlety than the former.
Desolation of Smaug still has some serious flaws,
though. The worst problem with this long
film is that it doesn't go anywhere.
There’s no resolution of an issue, and there’s no movement or idea at
its core. Dramatically, the film also
has even less character development than The Hobbit, and vast majority of the
script is declamation rather than dialog. And there is so much CGI in Smaug that most of the film looks like a video
game, one that someone else is playing and that we only get to watch. And some
parts of the film are simply hard to understand. It’s difficult, for example, to catch that the orc in charge of catching Thorin, Bolg, is the son of the Azog, the
orc commander. And as to why that would be
worth noting, perhaps the next film will tell.
Like its predecessor, Desolation of Smaug is not a great
film. People who love Middle Earth and
its lore will relish the film’s visuals and the way Jackson weaves in
background to create a sense of time and history. But the overlong action sequences, the lack
of character, and the meandering storyline here will leave many audiences on
the side.
Thursday, December 18, 2014
December 18: Flash Gordon's Trip to Mars (1938 -- Ford Beebe, Robert F. Hill & Frederick Stephani)
Better isn’t always better, and the distance between the 1936 and the 1938 Flash Gordon serials is a case in point. Flash ’38 has a tighter, more cohesive narrative than the earlier one. For example, a parachute jump in the first episode prefigures several batwing jumps that are important on Mars, and though there are still some narrative gaps, they aren’t as numerous here as they are in Flash ’36. Even the acting of Buster Crabbe has some of its rough edges chipped off. Crabbe was positively bursting with enthusiasm in the ’36 Flash, hopping into the air as he ran short distances across a stage to simulate effort; in ’38, he doesn’t hop quite as high.
There’s a bit more self-consciousness in Flash ’38, too, and less of the “golly, gee” that’s endearing in the ’36 series. We have the new character of the reporter, Happy Hapgood, whose wiseacre comments give this serial a distance, even irony, that it completely missing in the first serial. Flash Gordon ’38 even winks self-consciously at the audience when the earth, as seen from space, resembles the Universal Studios logo.
But despite these updates, Flash Gordon ’38 is still a load of fun. Sparking switches still typify the laboratories on Mars, and smoke drifts uncooperatively above the model spaceships as they circle and land. The Incense of Forgetfulness shows the persistence of an interest in mind control. A little, two-person car that runs in tunnels underground helps Flash and friends infiltrate the castle of Queen Azura, who is herself decked out like a contestant in the swimsuit competition of a beauty contest. Ming is even more vile here than in the ’36 serial, and though Crabbe has clearly toned his acting down, he is no less committed to the role. He shows less skin and pecs here than in the ’36 series, but his sense of honor propels the narrative and inspires. Having saved the earth, Flash stays on Mars to honor his word and help free the Clay people from Queen Azura.
Flash Gordon's Trip to Mars still works today. Its visual inventiveness and cheesy gusto engage us, and even the drifting spaceship models and flat line delivery are a part of a cohesive whole that, no matter how contrived the ending of one episode, on some basic level, we want to find out what happens next.
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
December 17: Flash Gordon (1936 -- Frederick Stephani & Ray Taylor)
★★★★
In the first episode of the 1936 Flash Gordon serial, an
adviser to Emperor Ming walks on screen and you’re immediately taken to Star
Wars. The adviser has the same costume,
speech mannerisms, posture and even the same nose as a character in the more
recent films. So while watching Flash Gordon
in our post-Lucas Star Wars days, one of the big pleasures is spotting
references and influences.
And there are many.
The universe of Flash Gordon is one of multiple alien races – Lion Men,
Shark Men, Hawkmen, a tiger woman, others – and all these races serve as
subjects of the Emperor. These races
live in a variety of cities on land, under the ocean and in the sky, cities
that call to mind those in the Star Wars series. And Mongo is populated by a variety of
menacing beasts. There is also a variety
of transportation here from spinning top ships to rockets to underwater
craft. Moment’s like the undersea trip,
with its encounter with sea beasts, and Flash’s struggle in a chamber that is
filling with water call to mind specific moments from the more recent films,
too. Some of Flash’s sword fights, and
the sound that accompanies them, remind us of light saber duels, and even the
text at the beginning of each “chapter” is suggested in the Star Wars saga.
But for all the fun echoes here, there are many elements here firmly planted in 1936. This Flash
Gordon serial has a couple of big dance productions like the one with women
sprawled around a multi-armed deity and the one that is a celebration for King
Vultan. Also, the science of Flash
Gordon is based on rays, electrical arcs and neon tubes, like you’d expect in
Frankenstein rather than in today’s sci fi.
And the machinery here recalls that from films like Metropolis, with its
big clock dial, and even Charlie Chaplin’s contemporary Modern Times. The Flash Gordon episodes also play to an
interest in identity and consciousness as Princess Aura wipes out Flash’s
memory and tries to reconstruct it to her benefit. Although it has clearly inspired later
cinema, this Flash Gordon is very much a thing of its time.
Some of these 30s elements turn out to be drawbacks for a
contemporary viewer of the series, though. One
element that hurts the film is its lack of psychology. The episodes run completely on story, and
characters are more plot functions than people.
Flash dotes on Dale because their relationship is a necessary part of
the story, but there’s no motivation, passion or risk there. In fact, if we weren't told that it exists,
we might not even see a relationship at all.
And given the short serial format, there’s little in the way of
overarching plot structure or theme: something happens, then something else
happens, then something else happens. Flash
Gordon is a series actions and situations that barely grow out of the situation
that immediately preceded. And it’s
worth noting that the acting is singularly bad.
The athletic Buster Crabbe bounds vertically as he runs and flails his
arms since there’s not enough room to run on the soundstage, and flat line
delivery is the standard.
But for all this, there’s fun to be had in this 1936 serial. On some level, there’s a
sincerity here. Though it’s hard to know
what audiences would have thought of the rocket exhaust drifting up rather than
flying out behind the spaceships, there’s a refreshing lack of cynicism and
self-consciousness throughout the series.
Each episode here is a fun, little adventure, and if we come to realize that the Emperor Ming sat on something that
looks a lot like the Iron Throne, it’s an extra smile for the series.
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