The Ice Storm (1997)

*. Though it only came out in 1997, I think The Ice Storm is representative of what people have in mind when they talk about the kind of movie that doesn’t get made anymore. Meaning an adult drama. Not a genre picture or comedy, and certainly not a comic book fantasy.
*. You could see it as standing at a sort of watershed. It may be significant in this regard that we begin with Paul Hood reading a Fantastic Four comic book. Because in the new millennium Tobey Maguire would be franchised as Spider-Man, starting in 2002. Ang Lee would direct Hulk (2003), Katie Holmes would be Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend (sort of) in Batman Begins (2005), and Elija Wood would be Frodo. So long, New Canaan.
*. Another watershed it marks is in how young people come to learn about sex. I’m not talking about 1973 here, the year the film is set in. I’m talking about 1997 vs. today. The effects of getting all of their sex education from Internet porn is often condemned in our own time, but are today’s kids any worse off than the ones we see fumbling toward ecstasy in this movie?

*. This is all, however, looking back at The Ice Storm in hindsight, post-Internet and post-MCU. At the time the movie was very well received critically, though it tanked at the box office. Critics did, however, register some reservations. One in particular has to do with the lack of depth given the main characters. What do we know about Mr. and Mrs. Hood, beyond the fact that their marriage is dead? Just what is Mrs. Carver playing at?
*. The complaint made was that for all its moral probing, The Ice Storm was a movie of surfaces, evoking a time but not a spirit of that time. Brian D. Johnson in Maclean’s: “While The Ice Storm charts the slippery slope of moral misadventure in the Seventies with meticulous care, it still just skids along the surface.” David Ansen in Newsweek: “In the novel [by Rick Moody] — which is in many ways harsher than the film — you get a sense of [the characters’] histories and inner lives. [Director Ang] Lee and [screenwriter James] Schamus grant them a certain pathos, but for a movie that wants to encapsulate an era, these are slender shoulders upon which to rest so large a metaphor.”
*. Why, Ansen concludes his review, “if the characters are stick figures, does this movie have such lingering weight? Lee has caught the surface of an era so indelibly it feels as if he’s sounded the depths.”

*. Maybe. And maybe the era itself was on the way to becoming all surface. Personally, I don’t find this movie a particularly telling indictment or even evocation of the 1970s. Instead, for all that has changed it seems contemporary to me. All the characters we meet, adults and children, seem drifting into a nearly autistic state. They barely communicate with one another, and “nothing” seems to be the answer to almost any question that is asked. They’re bored, with nothing to do but the usual round of drugs: sex, booze, pills, and pot. Again, this is before the Internet. Before cell phones.
*. I think Roger Ebert saw this, and expressed it nicely: “What we sense after the film is that the natural sources of pleasure have been replaced with higher-octane substitutes, which have burnt out the ability to feel joy. Going through the motions of what once gave them escape, they feel curiously trapped.”
*. There’s nothing terribly profound in this. Indeed, the denial of profundity is a large part of what The Ice Storm is about. It’s easy to say the adults are behaving worse than their kids (and it’s telling that the kids show more genuine concern over their parents well-being than their parents do about them), but such an observation underlines how insulated New Canaan society is. No one here has grown up. No one is an adult.

*. Given this theme it’s hard to gauge the acting. As noted, none of the characters has any great depth, and that is the point. Young Paul is a sort of Holden Caulfield figure, but with even less on the ball. Wendy (Christina Ricci, who was actually 17 but is totally believable as 14) is politically hip but sexually naive. Or just naive about people. She cares more about what’s on TV than what’s going on around her. A personality type that was going to inherit the world.
*. Otherwise Janey (Sigourney Weaver) and Ben (Kevin Kline) are Scarlett and Rhett, while Elena (Joan Allen) and George (Henry Czerny) are Melanie and Ashley. Meaning the bad people are the only interesting ones. Elena can’t even shoplift a lipstick from her local drug store, while poor George is just a piece of furniture, albeit with a hair trigger.
*. The only character I feel the script cheats is Janey. She still has a spark inside her, and when she grabs that whip it’s a moment that threatens to tear the lid off everything. Play with that, young man! But she too remains a wall. Obviously the men of New Canaan can’t satisfy her, and one imagines her soon traveling further afield. By the end of the movie she’s all but disappeared anyway.

*. I’ve driven in ice storms. To drive in an ice storm while drunk is beyond merely moronic. And I’m sure it was in 1973 too. But here everyone seems to take it for granted that they’re going to drive home.
*. I think key parties have been pretty much exploded as a myth as well. Whose 1973 is this anyway?

*. The politics — basically some snatches of Nixon playing on TV in the background, and the appearance of a Nixon mask that Wendy finds — plays as little more than period decor. It reminded me a bit of the presence of politics in Shampoo, which Warren Beatty thought was used to make a connection between political hypocrisy and sexual hypocrisy. Is that what’s going on here?
*. Bill Krohn, in his Criterion essay: “Ten years after it was made, The Ice Storm looks like the best American film of the nineties.” Hm. No, but I could see someone trying to make the argument. The ’90s were awful, weren’t they? I just looked at a list of the 50 highest grossing films from that decade and I could count the ones I might consider great on the fingers of one hand. I still like The Matrix. Of the ten movies to win Best Picture at the Academy Awards the only one I really liked was The Silence of the Lambs. Other names that were nominated that I’d rate as above average include Goodfellas and Fargo. Out of a whole decade? Thin pickings.

*. I like The Ice Storm but I don’t care for the ending. It might be melodramatic or ironic, depending on whether we’re meant to take it more seriously than the characters do. Put another way, is Paul someone we’re meant to identify with? Do we share his point of view? Was I Paul in 1973? I don’t think so. Even more, I’m pretty sure I’m not what he would have turned into. But then the world changed more in 1997 than it did in the ’70s. The Ice Storm looks back at that period as the aftermath; it was more of a foreshadowing.

The Unseen (1980)

*. The Unseen. They didn’t spend a lot of time coming up with a title for this one, did they? I guess Junior is unseen for most of the movie because he’s locked up in the basement, and indeed Stephen Furst is credited as playing “The Unseen,” but . . . that’s about it.
*. But then, let’s face it: they didn’t put a lot of work into this one period. Basically there’s this weird couple keeping Junior in the basement and when a trio of young women spend the night at their house Junior, who can travel through the building’s vents, gets out and kills a couple of them.
*. The movie is a bit of an oddity. Junior apparently kills the women by accident, since he’s not really a bad guy. And it’s never clear why he’s being kept in the basement. It’s a big enough house, in a remote location, so you’d think they’d let him out every now and then.
*. Maybe it’s all because Junior’s dad is crazy (and Sydney Lassick, I want to say, is actually pretty good in the part). At least there’s a wild American gothic back story inolving incest and patricide that would suggest as much.

*. The girls are all winsome and disposable, but at least not as hateful as the usual crop of bodies in a dead teenager movie. Why is it raining out at the end? To get Barbara Bach’s blouse wet. But she’s in the basement! No problem. Where there’s a will, and a leering audience, there will be a way. In the event, she’ll be degraded even further when she escapes, having to drag herself through a field of mud.
*. Written and directed by Danny Steinmann, who didn’t want his name on it so he’s credited as Peter Foleg. His previous movie had been a hardcore porno called High Rise, where he used the alias Danny Stone. Apparently he was upset about cuts that were made to this film that took out a lot of the scares. I doubt anything of value was lost. But the MPAA also did a job on his Friday the Thirteenth: A New Beginning, and he kept his name on that one. So go figure.
*. Aficionados of Grade Z chum may find something in this. I thought it was very dull as well as nonsensical. Lassick copes manfully with a ridiculous script but everyone else appears to be struggling. I’d advise taking a pass unless this is your kind of thing.

Super Troopers 2 (2018)

*. Seventeen years later, the boys are back. And perhaps the most remarkable thing is that they don’t look any different. It’s like time stood still.
*. Critics piled on because it’s clear that one thing Broken Lizard weren’t doing in those seventeen years was writing jokes for Super Troopers 2. But given the whimsy of crowdfunding here we were.
*. If you liked Super Troopers you’ll probably like Super Troopers 2. I think I actually enjoyed it a bit more. There were a couple of near laughs and a few smiles, mainly having to do with the gang mangling French. The material, however, mostly just plays on the usual Canada vs. the United States lines. Remember Canadian Bacon? Or South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut? Mix those with some Police Academy shenanigans and there you have it.
*. If you are laughing at a movie like this it’s because of how obviously stupid and bad it is. If you’re in the mood for that kind of thing (or, even better, drunk and/or stoned) then I can see it being a good time. I can’t help thinking that I’ve laughed more at even stupider movies, which tells me that something else is missing here. It’s not like these guys are totally without talent, but I wonder to what extent they’re even trying.

Super Troopers (2001)

*. There’s a scene that occurs around halfway through Super Troopers that is obviously meant to tell us something about the kind of movie it is. As part of their investigation into a marijuana smuggling operation, the state police (or troopers) have to do some research into a cartoon monkey character that is being used as a brand for the illegal drugs. When one of them asks the senior trooper if he’s watched any of the monkey cartoons he says that he has but that “there’s nothing there.” Maybe, it is suggested, he should take another look.
*. What this means is that he should watch the monkey cartoon while stoned. This the troopers all do, and they laugh hysterically at it while picking up some important clues. You get the point. All you need to do in order to have a good time watching a silly cartoon in a language you don’t even understand is to light up beforehand. If you don’t, “there’s nothing there.”
*. This is a not-so-subtle defence of Super Troopers. It’s “stoner comedy,” which means not only that it’s about people who get drunk and take drugs but that if you’re not stoned or drunk yourself you’re not going to be able to fully appreciate it. This also goes some way to explaining the enormous gap on the various review aggregator sites between critical scores and audience rankings. One assumes the people who call Super Troopers the “best movie EVER!!!” are on drugs.
*. I did not laugh at Super Troopers. In fact, I don’t think I even smiled at it much. This surprised me, as I was in the mood and really looking forward to it. But I was not high. So I came away thinking there was nothing there.
*. That’s not to say I hated it. There’s nothing much to hate. In fact, I was surprised at how little reaction I had to Super Troopers. The Broken Lizard group started off as a band of college comedians and they perform the kind of dopey humour that I didn’t enjoy much even when I was in school. It’s fitting that the film ends up at a frat party, because in a way that’s where it started, and indeed where it was all along. Frat parties were something I tried to avoid when I was in university, and which I only have painful memories of today.
*. So the question then becomes why I didn’t hate it. Here I have to confess to a very odd response. I felt sorry for this movie. It seems so obviously the work of a bunch of guys who really don’t know what they’re doing. I was watching people who aren’t very funny trying to be funny, and that’s just sad. The smiles Super Troopers did raise were smiles of pity at the overall incompetence on display. This is my only way of understanding the oft-cited “likeability” of the cast. I didn’t want to laugh at them so I tried to laugh with them. But even that didn’t really work.

Phantom Thread (2017)

*. A good movie. But did there need to be this much of it?
*. A couturier goes through women like the bolts of cloth he makes into high fashion. Obsessed with order, he is a control freak. One day, in-between lovers/muses/hired help, he finds a new girl who will, as the saying goes, do. She, however, turns out to be more than he bargained for, being every bit as much of a controlling personality. Though she upsets him at first, in the end he not only accepts her but learns to enjoy being dominated. No longer his muse or lover she has become his mother and he her hungry boy.
*. There’s something asexual about such relationships, and that’s lightly touched upon here. When asked why he isn’t married Reynolds replies only that “I make dresses.” This could mean that his profession/calling comes first, or it could be hinting at something else. Not so much that he’s possibly homosexual (there’s no evidence for this) but that he has no sexuality, or that he’s pre- or postsexual. It can only be deliberate that we never see him kiss Alma until the very end, when he has become a patient/child to be nursed, without any virility.
*. As a psychological portrait of a certain kind of relationship it’s entirely convincing. The bond that Reynolds and Alma share is one that’s far more common than perhaps many people allow. Alma is alert to Reynolds’s real needs: she learns on a first date of his mother fixation and can hardly miss the role played by Cyril, the live-in sister. He just has to be made to accept what he is and she’ll take care of him. I can say I’ve known many such couples, and Reynolds and Alma, if they were real, would be far from the most extreme example of the type I’ve seen.
*. It’s not surprising that the movies Phantom Thread most reminded me of were horror films or thrillers that took similar ideas of toxic codependency to their nightmarish conclusions. Think Fatal Attraction, or Misery, or Bitter Moon. They’ve really just taken a similar situation to those psychological thrillers and glamorized it.
*. Speaking of other movies that might have provided inspiration, am I wrong in seeing Women in Love lurking somewhere behind the alpine skiing holiday? I can’t think of any other reason why that brief scene would be in here. Surely the struggle for mastery between Reynolds and Alma draws something from that between Gerald and Gudrun in that film.
*. I think it’s a good script, introducing leitmotifs that stitch together the main themes. Hunger, for example. Or the question of sincerity, which everyone pays lip service to even as they admit they’re all playing games. That is, not quite behaving in a grown-up way.
*. On the negative side of the ledger, it does go on a bit long for what is a very simple tale. It’s nicely done, in a pretty way that I suspect was being arch some of the time. Even the designer’s name, Woodcock, seems to have been a joke. The triumvirate cast — Daniel Day-Lewis, Vicky Krieps, and Lesley Manville — are all very good at working with their eyes, since there’s always more going on than they are expressing verbally. I find Paul Thomas Anderson can be given to meticulous doodling and shapelessness, but here he seems mostly on point. I liked the film.
*. Do I want to see it again though? Not anytime soon. For all its evident craftsmanship I didn’t get the sense that there was anything deeper going on or more to uncover. It’s both subtle and superficial at the same time. Well done, but even though it cultivates restraint I felt it needed more bite to go with its evocation of haute perversity and emotional hunger.

Tragedy Girls (2017)

*. I get it. At least I think I do. It’s a satire on the blood and guts of high school, with a pair of teenage girls who are aspiring serial killers. The only new wrinkle to this old story being that we’re in the age of social media so they’re murdering people as a way to drive traffic to their blog.
*. Yes, blog. Remember those? Well, I’m still here anyway.
*. Right away Tragedy Girls runs into all kinds of problems. First: while satire isn’t always about knee-slapping laughs, it usually works on some level as comedy. This movie doesn’t. I want to say right away that I wasn’t offended by its nihilism or bleakness. That gets a pass from me. But it’s just nihilistic. It’s not shocking or insightful. And it’s never funny.
*. On the DVD commentary track director Tyler McIntyre and co-writer Chris Lee Hill mention how “super funny” and “hilarious” some scenes are, but I didn’t get a smile out of any of them. Apparently the biggest laugh line was the when the girls reunite at the end, saying “I missed you so much.” That’s a laugh line? I must be out of touch.
*. Second: there’s nothing new here. Like a lot of self-aware horror-comedies from this period it’s full of in-jokes that reference other horror movies. The business of naming characters after famous horror directors, for example, has by now almost become a cliché (on the commentary track it’s said that this began with Prom Night 2). But all the winks and nods (there’s even a preposterous reference to Cannibal Holocaust!) only underline how old it all is. And I’m not just talking about the horror stuff. The satire is old too. It’s Heathers and Mean Girls, and pretty much any essay by John Waters on our fascination with killers as celebrities (from Female Trouble to Serial Mom). The only thing somewhat new here is that the girls have cellphones.
*. Third: sticking with the social media angle, I don’t think any kind of point is being made about teens and how their use of the Internet is affecting them. The teacher here gives a brief lecture on the rise of narcissism and psychopathic behaviour and how it may be related to the selfie generation, but in the first place that’s not saying anything we don’t already know and in the second it doesn’t seem to apply to these particular girls. Are Sadie and McKayla just trying to get attention? It’s revealed at the end that they were both killers at a very young age, well before they would have had a blog or an Instagram account. The Internet didn’t make them murderers.

*. Does the movie fudge the romantic connection between Sadie and McKayla? Nothing of this nature is even suggested, but they are surely more than BFFs in their folie à deux. Boys are either dull or unnecessary, while they are, as they admit, meant for each other. But maybe they’re so into themselves that any deeper attachment is impossible. When they’re together it’s like looking in a mirror. You can’t even tell who is the instigator.
*. This is all too bad. Marvel teens Brianna Hildebrand and Alexandra Shipp are capable of more than they’re asked to do here. Audiences found their shallowness and cruelty to be off-putting, but as I’ve said I don’t think there’s necessarily anything wrong with the film’s insouciant amorality. The problem isn’t that I find the girls appalling, it’s that the movie doesn’t give me any reason to care about them.
*. There are a couple of good, if brief, kills. But there’s nothing spooky or suspenseful going on. Which leaves us with a comedy that isn’t funny, a horror movie that isn’t scary, and a satire with no real target. In all honesty, I have a hard time understanding what it is they were aiming for here. But whatever it was, I’m pretty sure they missed.

Night of the Big Heat (1967)

*. The gang’s all here. Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing (the latter credited as only “guest starring,” whatever that means). Directed by Terence Fisher. With a story by the staggeringly prolific (and now largely forgotten) John Lymington about an alien life form that burns people to a crisp. Sure it was put out by a small studio (Planet Film Productions, who had just done the very similar Island of Terror the year previously), and obviously it had no budget to work with, but really: how bad could it be?
*. Night of the Big Heat answers that question.
*. Since they didn’t have any money to spend on the monsters they ditched the idea in the novel of fire spiders from Mars (or wherever) and went with a glowing blob that makes a high-pitched, cicada-like whine. This blob was, however, so disappointing that they decided to conceal the alien’s appearance until the very end. This has two unfortunate consequences: (1) for most of the movie we only see actors reacting to the monster by screaming at the camera and then flaring out in white light; (2) when the big reveal finally does come it’s an even bigger letdown.
*. It’s not just the monster. Night of the Big Heat can’t even sell its basic premise, which is that a small island off the English coast is experiencing an extreme heat wave in the middle of winter. Unfortunately, the only way they had to represent this was to douse the (male) cast with glycerin that is supposed to look like sweat. Except it doesn’t. The shirts are stained in ways that don’t follow any familiar sweat pattern. Meanwhile, Cushing never takes his jacket off (despite it appearing to be soaked as well) and Jane Merrow looks like she’s freezing in her bikini. Which she probably was. The film was shot in February and March! In England!
*. The script was apparently a work in progress that nobody was satisfied with. It’s a talky film and all of the talk is bad. I guess the sexual angle was thought to be a way of turning up the heat further, but it’s just dull. The explanation for the aliens is dumb even by 1967 standards. The characters behave like idiots. Right after warning Cushing not to go near the pit, in which he will be killed, Lee sees something glowing in the pit, complains about how hot it’s getting and decides . . . to go into the pit to check it out. Makes sense. I mean, he’s a scientist. As for Merrow’s character, she’s much too dumb to live but somehow does.
*. Relased in the U.S. as Island of the Burning Damned. I wonder which title is worse. I honestly feel like it’s a toss-up.
*. If you have a sweet tooth for this sort of fare then you’ll get a smile out of some of the terrible dialogue (“I wanted her! I wanted her body!”) and the general air of silliness. But in answer to the question of how bad it could be the only answer is Plenty.

Island of Terror (1966)

*. I wonder how many actors there have been who had careers like that of Peter Cushing. He’s still very well known today, and I think widely admired, but he made a living out of appearing in scores of undistinguished and now quite obscure movies basically playing variations on the same character. Just look over his filmography. What stands out? Turns as Sherlock Holmes and Van Helsing. Of course Grand Moff Tarkin (though that was a bit part). Aside from that it’s mostly a blur. I was surprised to find that he doesn’t even have an entry in David Thomson’s Biographical Dictionary of Film.
*. Well, here he is again, performing above his pay grade in a cheap slice of Brit horror from the ’60s. As usual he is an eminent man of science fighting the forces of evil. Island of Terror wasn’t a Hammer production, but it might as well have been. Terence Fisher was behind the camera. The big house isn’t Oakley Court but St. Hubert’s. Cushing’s character exclaims that it looks like Wuthering Heights, but I don’t think Emily Brontë imagined anything half so grand.
*. I thought the plot felt very much like a Doctor Who episode, which seems fitting since Cushing played the Doctor this same year in the feature Daleks’ Invasion Earth 2150 A.D. To recap: A bunch of scientists have set up a research station on a remote island off the east coast of Ireland. While trying to discover a cure for cancer they accidentally create a species of fast-breeding creatures that sort of look like giant turtles with long, tentacle-like necks. Anyway, once one of these “silicates” grabs hold of you they dissolve every bone in your body and then start to duplicate. Given enough of a food supply they’ll soon take over the world.
*. The silicates do not impress. Since they move very slowly and the only way they can attack is by way of their single appendage (or, even more improbably, by falling on people from out of trees) they really aren’t all that threatening. At best they can be disgusting, as when they go through some kind of mitosis and spill out pools of greenish spaghetti. But give credit to the producers for going ahead and showing them in all their low-budget glory early on, in full view and good lighting. Laugh or shake your head if you want, but this is the best they could do and you’re welcome to it.
*. If the silicates underwhelm, they do at least provide the film with its one signature element. The rubberized corpses of the people they have de-boned are actually pretty creepy. I only wish we had seen more of them. But I don’t think Fisher’s heart was in it.
*. Carole Gray plays the scared, helpless, and stupid female who is even more scared, helpless, and stupid than usual. She needs to be held, a lot, and is so lacking in agency she’s nearly euthanized at the end.
*. The idea of injecting strontium-90 into a herd of dairy cattle that the silicates then eat and are poisoned by isn’t bad. But aside from being excessively nerdy it’s also a drawn-out and boring solution. While dynamite and “petrol bombs” (Molotov cocktails) are attempted but found wanting, I think we still want to see the silicates getting destroyed in some more spectacular way than just dying from food poisoning.
*. Well, don’t expect too much. Island of Terror is a bit of fun for fans of British horror from this period. There are a couple of decent jump scares, and some memorably odd shots of herds of silicates wandering through forests and fields. It’s certainly miles ahead of the next production to come from Planet Film Productions, Night of the Big Heat. Which only goes to show that things here could have been a lot worse, even without the contagion spreading to Japan.

Riddick (2013)

*. All things considered, I liked Riddick better than the first two films in this series. Which feels like a strange thing to say, given that (1) I don’t think it’s a good movie, and (2) things aren’t usually better the third time around. But all such judgments are relative. Pitch Black was just OK and The Chronicles of Riddick was garbage, so the bar wasn’t set that high. And since Riddick is basically a remake of Pitch Black with better production values they weren’t going to go far wrong.
*. It’s actually quite remarkable how similar the plot here is to Pitch Black: a bunch of people stranded on a desert planet inhabited by ferocious monsters (this time they look like giant scorpions) have to recover some fuel cells in order to power up their space ship and escape.
*. You may be wondering how Riddick found himself in this situation after being made king of the Necromongers at the end of the previous movie. Well, long story short, they turfed him out and marooned him on this planet, leaving him for dead. So much for all that time spent building up the Riddick mythology. Not only is this movie a retread of Pitch Black, it’s almost as though The Chronicles of Riddick never happened.
*. There are other similarities as well. For some reason Riddick is always being tied up with his arms spread out wide behind him. I can only assume this is done to show off Vin Diesel’s musculature. Also par for the course is the unimpressive CGI. The scorpion creatures don’t look too bad, but Riddick also has a pet hyena-thing that doesn’t look remotely real.
*. It’s weird how inconsistently these films deal with Riddick’s eyes. These were surgically augmented (or “shined”) while in prison, allowing him to see in the dark but requiring him to wear dark goggles during the day. Or at least some of the time. And then some of the time he wears dark goggles at night. Despite his eyes being his most distinguishing feature, his night vision only plays an incidental part on a couple of occasions in these movies. And when we’re shown what he sees with his RiddickVision it just looks blurry. As super powers go it isn’t very super and serves no purpose.
*. The film has an awkward sort of feel to it, breaking into different narrative chunks. There’s Riddick and his dog alone on the planet. There’s the arrival of a couple of very different gangs of mercenaries (a word that means “bounty hunter” in this universe). Then there’s Riddick vs. the mercs, and Riddick and the mercs vs. the scorpions.
*. The Riddick vs. the mercs section is typical of that awkwardness I mentioned. It takes the standard SF-horror idea of visitors to a planet being hunted by a monster, only the monster (Riddick in this part of the movie) is the hero and the people being hunted are the bad guys. It’s like you’re cheering for the Predator, even as you know he’s going to win.
*. Despite all the potential such a plot has for thrilling action, it doesn’t deliver much. As noted, the dog looks silly. The first group of mercs are played as comic baddies, despite including Dave Bautista in the mix. The next bunch of mercs have a shoehorned connection to Riddick in that their leader (Matt Nable) is actually the father of the merc who got killed in Pitch Black. Most of the tension between Riddick and the mercs is created through various cool-contest stare-offs, complete with lots of eye-rolling tough-guy dialogue. Some of this hints at self-awareness, but nothing is particularly funny. Meanwhile, Riddick’s preternatural ability to call in advance exactly what’s going to happen next defeats any sense of suspense (not to mention being pretty silly too).
*. So, no, it’s not an SF adventure classic. But I would rate it the best Riddick movie (yet), and much better than the previous entry in the series. Riddick himself, however, still seems underdeveloped and underplayed, as though no one is really interested in where he came from or how his eyes are supposed to work. Instead he’s just a superhero who goes around flexing his muscles and kicking ass in various fantasy settings. Nothing we haven’t seen hundreds of time before. This is too bad, as the concept would seem to have lots of room for development. After three movies, I’m pretty confident that the combination of Vin Diesel and David Twohy aren’t the guys to make it happen though.

The Chronicles of Riddick (2004)

*. I praised Pitch Black (retitled The Chronicles of Riddick: Pitch Black when it came out on DVD) for its simple story and how it made do with a relatively small budget. The Chronicles of Riddick quintupled that budget in telling a story so complicated I was lost halfway through the introductory voiceover. I did not like it at all.
*. I often wonder, when I don’t have anything else to wonder about, how movies with so much action can be so boring. When the Necromongers attack the planet Helion Prime it just seems to drag on forever, with the bright flashing lights only there to induce seizures. And none of this has any point. We know what’s going to happen at this point in the story and I just wanted them to get on with it.
*. The plot here is both bog simple and bewildering. The Blue Meanies (or Necromongers) are taking over the universe. These guys are the usual medieval warriors who have somehow found themselves aboard starships. They wield giant battle axes and dress in armour. As it turns out, there has been a prophecy that our man Richard (Don’t call him Dick) Riddick is the chosen one, meaning the only guy who will be able to stop them.
*. So much, so familiar. But layered on to this is a game of power politics being played among the Necromonger elite and Riddick’s journey to a prison planet to save the now grown-up girl he rescued in the previous movie.
*. I should say that the version of this film I saw was the director’s cut, which included some 15 minutes of material that hadn’t been part of the theatrical release. I don’t see where this could have helped. If ever there were a case of too much and not enough, this film is it.

*. Dame Judi Dench as Aereon, which sounds like a piece of exercise equipment. Actually she’s an air elemental. I was kind of surprised to see her showing up on Helion Prime, but I guess Sir Alec Guinness lived for a while on Tatooine. These distinguished names fit well with the whole Masterpiece Theatre brand of SF, where fantasy elements play such a big role (Dench is basically a fairy queen here, and in Star Wars Guinness was a knight). There’s a long history of this in SF, going back to Isaac Asimov’s Foundation novels and Frank Herbert’s Dune books.
*. For a “triple-max” prison, the penal pits on the planet Crematoria are rather slackly guarded aren’t they? They have what? Five guards keeping watch over a giant hole in the ground?
*. No point saying anything more. This is generic, confusing, overproduced, and overwritten. The fight scenes are so fiercely edited it’s hard to make out what is happening. The design elements are kitsch fantasy and seem reliant on plastic forms. Colm Feore is a talented actor but hopeless in a role that demands something less.
*. I could barely finish watching it, especially at the inflated running time. Vin Diesel again seems intent on underplaying the role of Riddick to the point of near invisibility, aside from flexing his giant arms. When you think about it, the Riddick movies are a bit of an oddity as a franchise. They didn’t do great box office (making most of their money on DVD sales) and weren’t well received critically. And yet the series continued. Some things are hard to explain.