Author: Robert Greenberger

In the wake of Star Wars’ massive and surprisingly success, studios went looking for the next Star Wars. We’ve seen this cycle again and again, which has led to some good things (the revival of Star Trek in 1979) and some bad (the original Battlestar Galactica). In the wake of Stephanie Meyer’s perplexingly popular Twilight, publishers and film studios alike have been demanding the next Twilight. Hungry authors have been more than happy to fill the order with way too many urban fantasies reading like made-to-order hash. What everyone loses sight of is that Star Wars and Twilight each staked out territory that had not been overly mined in the period before their arrival. So, what makes any of the imitators succeed is how well executed it is and how much the formula is given fresh ingredients to keep it from feeling like warmed up leftovers.

In 2009, authors Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl admittedly tried to cash in on the craze and came up with Beautiful Creatures, which turned the formula on its head and eschewed vampires and werewolves for witches with a dash of legacy tossed in. The book also worked because they brought a level of craft to the writing with some terrific first-person narration and characterization that brought the world to life. It was popular enough to earn sequels comprising the four volume Caster Chronicles.

Warner Bros., eager to find a franchise of its own to rival Twilight and replace the failed Golden Compass, snapped this up and released the filmed adaptation in February. It met with mediocre reviews and ho hum box office, dooming prospects for sequels. The movie is out tomorrow from Warner Home Video in their combo pack (Blu-ray, DVD, Ultraviolet).

The basic story remains the same and the film itself is not bad, but fails to properly capture the tone of the book. Considering this was written and directed by Richard LaGravenese this is surprising given how engaging his Fisher King script was and his previous experience with fantasy, writing the screenplay for The Voyage of the Dawn Traeder.

Wisely, he cast the film with relative unknowns in the lead and surrounded them with veteran presences who were not such Big Names that they overwhelmed the film’s focal point. Alden Ehrenrich and Alice Englert look and act like teens, characters trapped in their surroundings, one trying to get out, the other to fit in. Gatlin, South Carolina is like many other small towns so the newcomer, Alice’s Lena, is immediately the subject of gossip and made to feel unwelcome. All Alden’s Ethan wants is to graduate and say goodbye to his hometown. However, he’s also been plagued with nightmares featuring a girl, who now looks remarkably like Lena.

Ethan wants to get to know the newcomer, trying to figure out their obvious connection but is thwarted by her father Macon Ravenwood (Jeremy Irons), Mavis (Emma Thompson) and cousin Ridley (Emmy Rossum). The creepy family turns out to be one of Casters (as in spellcasters or witches and warlocks) each trying to influence Lena who is reaching the point where she decides if she wants to be a Good Witch or a Bad Witch.

That the Duchannes clan uses magic sets up some interesting themes about magic and religion, faith and love, but it’s all on the surface. The classmates think the family comes from the local Hellmouth and everyone takes sides, with no one straddling a middle ground, robbing the film of a chance to, ahem, stake out some fresh storytelling territory.

The novel explores the relationships far better than the film, which is a shame given the rich cast, who largely go wasted. Thompson’s Sarafine (where do they find these odd names?) arrives some 45 minutes into the story and does little while Rossum is deliciously sly and sexy but has nowhere near enough screen time. Then there’s poor Viola Davis who is bookkeeper to Ethan’s family and a secret caster librarian. Such potential. Such a waste.

The video transfer is serviceable although unspectacular and the sound is perfectly fine so this makes for a satisfying home viewing experience. For something intended as the beginning of a new franchise, one would have hoped for more interesting assortment of bonus features but much as the book was made to order, so are these featurettes.

“Book to Screen” (3:58) briefly covers the adaptation process and I wanted to hear more from LaGravenese about the choices he made; “The Casters” (3:22) is another too brief chat with the lead teens and their thoughts on the characters; “Between Two Worlds” (4:17) uses the rest of the cast in similar conversation; “Alternate Worlds” (5:17) gives us a look at the special effects; “Designing the Costumes” (3:51); and, four deleted scenes (8:10), none of which are missed. You also get the theatrical trailers which imply the film is broader than it actually turns out to be.

January 1929 was a very good month for comic strip readers. On the 7^th they got to see the arrival of Tarzan and Buck Rogers while ten days later, fans of Thimble Theater met a brand new character named Popeye. The sailor was never intended to take over the strip but his popularity with readers encouraged E.C. Segar to keep him around until he finally shoved the Oyl family from the spotlight.

Burnishing his reputation were the brilliantly execute black and white theatrical shorts produced by Max and Dave Fleischer. After they shuttered operations, others took over the cartoon production, keeping Popeye a mainstay for generations of fans. Many of my generation were treated to the somewhat inferior Associated Artists Productions cartoons which completed their run in 1957. Not to be undone, King Features Syndicate hired Al Brodax to oversee a new round of cartoons aimed for the burgeoning television syndication market. He spread the order around to five different animation houses: Jack Kinney Productions, Rembrandt Films, Larry Harmon Productions, Halas and Batchelor, Paramount Cartoon Studios (formerly the Fleischers and Famous Studios), and Southern Star Entertainment. A whopping 220 cartoons were produced over a two year period, flooding the airwaves. Given the retention of the memorable theme song and vocal cast (Jack Mercer as Popeye, Mae Questel as Olive Oyl, and Jackson Beck as Brutus), young viewers were kept happy.

Bluto was renamed Brutus when KFS’ lawyers thought Paramount had copyright to the Bluto moniker because no one did their homework. Bluto first appeared in the strip, making him a KFS property.

Of these cartoons, with their simplified animation design and short running times, the ones from Paramount stood out as the most memorable so it’s nice to see 72 of them collected for the first time in Warner Archives’ just-released Popeye the Sailor: The 1960s Classics Volume One. Classics may be stretching the point, compared with their 1930s rivals, but the kid in me remembers many of these stories. I suspect these work because so many were taken from the comic strip, which was an imaginative serial. Sweetpea, Eugene the Jeep, the Sea Hag, King Blozo, Toar, and, Rough House, all turn up more than once.

We are treated to the standardized Popeye, the none-too-bright, kind-hearted sailor in his white uniform, the dim and fickle Olive in her red turtleneck and long black skirt. Bluto’s muscle mass became flabby fat and he ditched his sailor uniform for dark clothes.

The stories go from adventurous to silly, such as the time Popeye goes to elementary school but is ridiculed for his lack of knowledge (sorry, but a sailor has to be plenty smart to wear that uniform). Where the Fleischers added a dose of an animated verve to the action, the limited animation meant far more static storytelling. Each episode ends with a new set of lyrics to the theme music and Popeye in the same pose, a cost saving measure that only now grows tedious as one works through the six dozen toons.

Are all 220 worth collecting? Probably not, but this is a nice time capsule reminder of the simpler pleasures children’s television once offered. We were entertained, with little in the way of moralizing beyond good triumphs over evil and you need to eat your spinach.

When even Joss Whedon can’t nail a character, you know there’s a problem. For decades now, film and television has been struggling to take Wonder Woman from the comics and bring her to a wider audience. So far, they’ve managed the Super Friends and the delightfully awful television series with picture-perfect Lynda Carter. However, there are scores of failed attempts beginning with the truly awful William Dozier-produced try out footage through last year’s cringe-worthy attempt from David E. Kelly.

Perhaps the most maligned of the attempts is the ABC Movie of the Week, Wonder Woman, which aired once in March 1974 and did well enough in the ratings for a series to be considered but was seriously retooled into the Carter vehicle. Thanks to Warner Archive, that 73 minute effort is now available for completists everywhere.

Yes, she’s Diana, princess of the Amazons and sent to man’s world. Somehow the unnamed Queen mother has decided the time has come for men everywhere to learn that women are of equal value so sends Diana to teach them. The very next scene has her playing the not very liberated role of secretary to Steve Trevor, who heads some federal agency. Absurdly, ten books with the names of 39 strategic agents around the world have been stolen by international mystery man Abner Smith. With seventy-two hours before they are exposed, the United States has to recover the books or pay millions in ransom. While a bunch of suits are given an hour to ponder the dilemma; Steve, with a wink and a nod, let’s Diana to take time off to see her “dentist”.

So much is left unexplained starting with how the Amazons have learned about the outside world and how Diana has acclimated to life in America. Her exact powers are never outlined nor is her bizarre not-very-secret identity. As written by executive producer John D.F. Black, we are expected to accept things on face value and go with it which is odd considering his extensive credits in dramatic television, including an influential role in the first half season of Star Trek.

Wonder Woman tracks down Smith, based in a nicely appointed hideout deep within the north face of the Grand Canyon. There’s some fighting, some deering-do and the odd arrival of fellow Amazon Angela, who has jealously followed Diana to the outside world to seek the wealth it offers.

The story makes no sense nor does this serve well as any sort of a pilot. What is interesting, though, is the banter between Diana and Smith or Diana and Smith’s flunky George. Here, Black demonstrates some nicely handled character, letting the bad guys be a bit more multidimensional than the star. It helps that Smith is played by Ricardo Montalban, decked out all in white long before he set up shop on Fantasy Island. He nicely chews the scenery and has nice chemistry with the Amazon Princess, woodenly played by tennis pro turned actress Cathy Lee Crosby. In civilian garb or an Olympic outfit masquerading as her costume, she lacks the imposing physique of an Amazon and her action sequences are not very athletic-looking.

George is played with some relish by Andrew Prine who makes the most of his sidekick role. The rest of the cast is there to advance the story, nothing more, so Kaz Garas as Trevor or the fine character actor Richard X. Slattery have absolutely nothing to work with. Director Vincent McEveety, another Trek alum, does a by-the-numbers job with the story, making it look generic.

I recall watching this as a teen and was appalled, stunned to learn that ABC actually thought enough of it to go to a series of TV movies a year later. Thankfully, by then, they jettisoned Crosby for Carter and in November 1975, we got our first glimpse of what would be an icon of the decade.

I’m not sure we’ll get every story of heroism, bravery, and ingenuity that made World War II so endlessly fascinating, but by now we seem to have gotten the best of them. The war had a scope involving millions of people on a global scale never seen before so the stories of the atrocities and acts of mercy continue to be uncovered and justly celebrated. And yet, one of the most enduring tales was not about a battle. Instead, the true story of the massive escape from Germany’s Stalag Luft III demonstrates a never-say-die attitude that demoralized the enemy. Thinking themselves clever, the Nazis collected their most troublesome prisoners and placed them in one facility, thinking they would be able to keep a better eye on them. They were all officers and treated a such, with the expectation that they would not cause trouble.

What the Germans forgot was that a prisoner’s first job was to escape and that’s exactly what these disciplined, highly-trained and clever men managed to do. It was an international effort that saw them survey and engineer three tunnels (cheekily nicknamed Tom, Dick, and Harry) that would allow 250 soldiers flee captivity. Paul Brickhill who was there, immortalized the effort in his 1950 nonfiction account The Great Escape.

It was a story ripe for Hollywood but studio after studio turned it down until finally John Sturges finally convinced United Artists to finance the production. Sturges both produced and directed from a screenplay credited to James Clavell, W.F. Burnett, and Walter Newman. Compromises had to be mader to make it palatable to Hollywood and its audiences. The American POWs who helped dig the tunnels were relocated seven months before the escape so reality was twisted to keep the yanks on hand. Additionally, characters became composites of real people, so it had the look and feel of what happened without the exact details.

The film is headlined by Steve McQueen, looming large in the marketing but small in the grand scheme of things, James Garner, Richard Attenborough, James Donald, Charles Bronson, Donald Pleasance, James Coburn, and David McCallum. (McCallum at the time was married to future Star Trek guest star Jill Ireland, who fell in love with Bronson during the shoot.) The Stalag was reconstructed with frightening attention to detail in Bavaria and the film benefitted from a fine Elmer Bernstein score. Technical advisor Wally Floody, a former prisoner at the dreaded place, was stunned at how real it felt.

A movie about digging tunnels for much of its 172 minutes might sound dull, but Sturges kept thigns interesting by showing how the men forged bonds and overcame fear and adversity. None of the characters were especially deep but all were idiosyncratic enough to remain interesting.  Some action pieces, such as the iconic motorcycle, were added. When released in 1963, it was a surprise hit and has showed enduring staying power, referenced in countless pop culture sources and is credited as an inspiration for the questionable sitcom Hogan’s Heroes.

Now 50 years old, the film remains entertaining viewing and 20^th Century Home Entertainment has just released it on Blu-ray for the first time. Unfortunately, they did not use the occasion to remaster the film; merely transfer it from the 2004 two-disc release. As a result, it looks fine but should look better.

The film was great fun and serious drama but it won no awards except from the men who were there, who later told Sturges what a fine job he did. Those anecdotes, recorded in 1974, survive on one of the many commentary tracks that were also ported over from the last release. Coupled with the fine lossless DTS-HD MA 5.1 audio, it is satisfactory but not what the movie and today’s viewers deserve.

The bonus features from the 2004 release are here with the exception of the trivia track and the photo gallery. But we do get:

Commentary with Director John Sturges, Cast and Crew, as Steven Jay Rubin, author of Combat Films: American Realism, 1945-1970, stitches together a series of interviews into this track. He managed to speak with  Sturges in 1974 and later Coburn, Garner, McCallum, Pleasance, Jud Taylor, Sturges’ former assistant Robert Relyea, stuntman Bud Ekins, art director Fernando Carrere, and McQueen’s one-time manager Hilly Elkins.

The Great Escape: Bringing Fact to Fiction (12:21) which originally ran on History Channel, narrated by Burt Reynolds.

The Great Escape: Preparations for Freedom (19:50): Another History Channel featurette looking at how the escape was really executed.

The Great Escape: The Flight to Freedom (9:22): Another History Channel featurette compares the reality versus the Hollywood version of events.

The Great Escape: A Standing Ovation (5:58): Another History Channel featurette examining the 1963 reaction by POWs to the film.

The Great Escape: The Untold Story (50:47): Made for British audiences, this used a mix of interviews and re-enactments.

The Great Escape: The Untold Story—Additional Interviews (9:35).

The Real Virgil Hilts: A Man Called Jones (25:01): American Army pilot David Jones, who participated in the famed Doolittle Raid, was the template for McQueen’s character and gets a nice profile here.

Return to The Great Escape (24:09): Rubin directed this 1993 Showtime entry with Garner, Pleasance and Coburn, reminiscing.

Original Theatrical Trailer (2:42)

One of the most amazing things about the talented and long-missed Jim Henson is that he was always creating something new, exploring news forms of storytelling and puppetry. While he may have started out with single characters, such as Kermit, he went on to create characters that hawked cereal and interacted with humans on Saturday Night Live. In between, he also helped pioneer engaging and  educational children’s television with Sesame Street’s inhuman inhabitants and created a universe of Muppets. When HBO was looking for original fare in the 1980s, it made perfect sense that they turn to Henson who whipped up a brand new universe of characters, the Fraggles. His Fraggle Rock lasted five seasons and 96 wonderful episodes.

Coming this week is Fraggle Rock: 30th Anniversary Collection, including every episode plus recently discovered behind the scenes interviews, a collectible Red plush keychain, and an all new exclusive Fraggle Rock graphic novel featuring a parent-friendly activity guide. That’s a lot of fun puppetry for the nostalgia-minded.

Also being released is Meet the Fraggles, a six episode sampler for those uncertain if today’s young will respond with the same delight. Wisely, Vivendi Entertainment includes the pilot episode so everyone of the cast is introduced, including the human Doc, who never sees the inhabitants, although his Muppet dog, Sprocket, does.

Much as the residents on Sesame Street were there to help teach numbers and letters, the mixed races of Fraggles were designed as an allegory to the human world. Henson was determined to demonstrate mankind’s interconnected nature and the episodes are fun, but touch on complex issues. Living in their system of underground caves and tunnels, the Fraggle subsist on radishes and Doozer sticks, made from ground up radishes. They can share their dreams if their heads touch one another as they fall asleep.

The series focuses predominantly on Gobo, the leader; Mokey, highly spiritual and artistic; athletic Red; nervous Wembley; and, Boober, the depressive. Whereas the Fraggles were carefree explorers, they frequently encountered the Doozers, who are workers. As a result, there is a great deal of misunderstand and incomprehension between them, allowing the lessons to be learned. Then there are the rules of the Universe, or so claim the Gorgs. Junior Gorg, Pa Gorg, and Ma Gorg are several times the size of a Fraggle and consider them pests.

Described by Henson as “a high-energy, raucous musical romp. It’s a lot of silliness. It’s wonderful”, it began production in March 1982 and debuted on January 10, 1983, becoming the template for many international co-productions that added their own unique elements. The six episodes included on the sampler are culled from the first 37 aired on HBO and nicely focus on the different Fraggles.

We have “Beginnings” that has Doc (Gerard Parkes) and Sprocket set up an old room as a workshop where they discover the first in a series of holes that turn out to be access points to Fraggle Rock. In “Boober’s Dream” we learn that he has a fun side, a split personality named Sidebottom,. There’s also a nice nod to Henson’s other 1980s creation when they go to the drive-in and see a clip from The Dark Crystal. The most charming of the bunch may be “Red’s Club”, where she wants to lead a club that forms without her.

There are no extras on this inexpensive disc but well worth a look if you’ve never experienced these before.