THE CAPE CANAVERAL MONSTERS (1960) ** ½

 

Alien lifeforms in the shape of glowing dots possess the bodies of a pair of freshly dead car accident victims and set out to sabotage rocket launchings occurring at Cape Canaveral.  Meanwhile, teenage scientists who are working on the rocket tests pick up a strange reading on their transmitters.  They think the source of the transmissions are the cause of the disturbances, but of course the adults on the team don’t believe them.  They soon set out to prove the grown-ups wrong and run smack dab into the aliens’ plot.

Robot Monster gets all the glory, but for my money, this one is director Phil Tucker’s masterpiece (although that’s not saying a whole lot).  The Cape Canaveral Monsters was his final movie, and it has an undercurrent of black humor and gore than would soon permeate throughout the horror genre.  There’s a funny running gag where an alien keeps loses his arm and his mate has to help him reattach it.  (The scene where a guard dog rips his arm off, and a security guard nonchalantly brings it back to the lab is great.)  Of course, the aliens need fresh bodies to repair their wounds and they go out cruising for teenage victims.

Like Robot Monster, The Cape Canaveral Monsters is padded with stock footage.  Whereas Tucker went overboard with the stock footage in Robot Monster, the shots of rocket take-offs aren’t too bad in this one.  (The scene where a rocket unexpectedly explodes is surprisingly effective.)  Like Robot Monster, the aliens set up shop in a cave and use a machine to communicate with their leader.  The machine in this one is hilarious as it looks like a fishbowl sitting on top of a water heater.

I also loved how the teenage characters flock to lovers’ lane when they aren’t busy performing rocket science.  I mean, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to star in a low budget sci-fi movie, but it certainly helps.  I got a good laugh from the scene where the doctor chastises them for flirting in the lab and they say, “C’mon doc!  This isn’t Germany!”  My favorite line of dialogue though came when the alien was about to operate on one of the humans and said, “She’s unconscious now, but earthlings are strange!”

While The Cape Canaveral Monsters has an OK premise and a decent amount of intentional (and otherwise) laughs, it runs out of steam at about the forty-five minute mark; roughly about the time when the alien finally attaches a permanent arm for himself.  Sluggish finale aside, it’s rather amusing as far as no-frills early ‘60s Sci-Fi goes.  It’s certainly more consistent than Tucker’s better-known Robot Monster, that’s for sure.

This movie is also vaguely connected to our Al Adamson August celebration, although not quite enough to make it an official entry.  For years, Adamson was erroneously reported to be in the film, but it’s actually Lyle Felice, who played Escobar in Adamson’s Half Way to Hell, who essays his role.  Jerry Warren fans (if there is such a thing) will also get a kick out of seeing Katherine Victor from The Wild World of Batwoman playing the female accident victim/alien.

HALF WAY TO HELL (1960) **

 

Half Way to Hell is Al Adamson’s first feature as a director.  He co-directed the film with his father, Victor, a longtime B western vet whose career spanned all the way back to the silent era.  It’s interesting because it is very much a hybrid.  It was made in 1960, but it often looks and feels like it came out thirty years prior.  From the old timey font used in the opening crawl, to the raggedy look of the film stock, to the chintzy music on the soundtrack, it feels like an early talkie much of the time.

It’s also pretty bad too.  I don’t know why they just didn’t go all the way to Hell with this one.  I mean, they were already half way there.

Only occasionally do we get a taste of the junior Adamson’s cinematic flair (or lack thereof).  A few scenes have stark close-ups that run incongruent of the creaky set-ups found elsewhere in the picture.  The most notable anachronistic touch is Al himself.  While most actors in the film feel like they stepped out of a B oater from the ‘30s, Al’s performance as the slimy villain feels similar to some of the despicable character we’d see later on in the ‘60s in the work of Peckinpah.  (IMDb misidentifies his character as “Escobar”, but he actually plays “Slade” under the pseudonym “Rick Adams”.)  He’s sweaty, grimy, and has a demented grin on his face.  (He sort of resembles an unhinged Arch Hall, Jr.)  No matter how spotty the overall quality of the movie gets, it does come to life whenever Adamson is front and center as his off-kilter energy brings a much-needed breath of fresh air to the proceedings. 

The plot is interesting at least.  A woman is on the run from her domineering fiancée who wants her to live a life of servitude.  While on the trail, she comes along a wandering cowboy whose horse threw a shoe and gives him a ride.  When her husband’s men get the drop on the carriage, they kidnap her and leave the cowboy for dead.  Eventually, the dazed cowpoke comes to his senses and sets out to rescue her. 

While the western action is thoroughly routine, the notion of a woman escaping her traditional way of life is very progressive for the time.  Like Adamson’s performance, it feels like something you would’ve seen later in the decade.  I’m not sure if Adamson intended this sort of progressive slant when he co-wrote the script, but it’s certainly possible as many of the female leads in his later work were stronger than what was usually depicted in the typical drive-in fare of the day. 

While there are some sparks here and there, for the most part, Half Way to Hell is a slog.  It’s only 67 minutes, but it feels longer than The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.  I guess we could chalk that up to Adamson not being in full creative control of the picture, as he had to share the directorial duties with his father.  However, there are enough glints of promise here that prelude Adamson’s future work.

The pokey pacing threatens to stall out the film at many junctures, but it comes surprisingly to life during the final act.  It’s here when we have not one but two bullwhip duels that pack a real punch.  These scenes are definitely edgier, leaner, and meaner than the stuff found earlier in the film.  Heck, there’s even a genuine surprise to be had in the finale.  This crisp bit of filmmaking isn’t enough to salvage the movie, but it is a nice glimpse of things to come.

AL ADAMSON AUGUST

 

I just got this mega boxset from the good people at Severin Films.  It contains the complete works of maverick filmmaker Al Adamson, containing thirty-two movies spread out over fourteen Blu-Rays.  Rarely can you hold a man’s entire work in your hands, but Severin has given us this rare privilege. 

Now, are most of Adamson’s films “good”?  Hell no.  In fact, I can probably count the good movies Adamson made on one hand.  Despite that, I never turn down an opportunity to watch one of his pictures.  There is a true auteur feel to his work.  No matter what the quality may be, each one has those distinct Adamson touches that only he could’ve applied. 

Since it’s August, and I’m a sucker for alliteration, I’m making it Al Adamson August around here.  I’m going to try to work my way through the massive set this month.  Many of the films I’ve already reviewed on my other site, but I may repost some here and make an addendum or two with new thoughts if and when it’s applicable.  Also, I’ll be watching the movies in chronological order as opposed to the way they are featured in the box set, not because OCD prevents me from doing otherwise, but because I’m curious to see if and how Adamson’s vision, technique, and craft matures (or not) over time.

I sincerely doubt I’ll be able to cover all the films featured in the box set this month, but be sure, I will tackle them all eventually in due time.  First up will be a review of Adamson’s debut feature, the 1960 western he co-directed with his father, Victor:  Half Way to Hell.

TRESPASS AGAINST US (2016) ** ½

 

I’m kind of a connoisseur of gypsy cinema.  I come from a long line of gypsies, and although I am far removed from that world in real life, I always enjoy seeing my heritage dramatized on the screen.  Whether it be The King of the Gypsies, Traveller, or Snatch, I never miss an opportunity to check out what Gypsy Cinema has in store.

Michael Fassbender stars as a gypsy who lives in a close-knit trailer community with his criminal family out in the woods.  To protest his brother’s incarceration, the family often pulls stunts like driving a yellow car around town to lure the local cops into a chase they have no chance of winning.  Unlike those around him, Fassbender is uneasy with the hardscrabble lifestyle and is looking for a way out, much to the chagrin of his domineering father (Brendan Gleeson). 

Trespass Against Us is a little disappointing when compared to the previous works of Gypsy Cinema I previously mentioned.  Unlike the characters in those films, Fassbender and company don’t go around conning, scamming, and grifting people out of their hard-earned dollars.  The saying goes, “A dollar grifted is better than a hundred dollars earned”.  This family never heard that saying as they prefer to earn their keep from thieving, break-ins, and other forms of criminal mischief. 

I’m not saying that alone makes the film lesser in my eyes.  It’s just that the dramatic meat of the story is somewhat lacking.  Despite strong performances by Fassbender and Gleeson, the tension between them is nominal.  Their push-me-pull-you family dynamics are firmly set to simmer, with neither one ever really getting to the point of boiling over.  Their final scenes of reconciliation are fairly predictable too.  Gleeson does get a good monologue where he adamantly professes why he believes the earth is flat.  He is so good in this scene that he may be able to convince a few people to get on board with his flat-earth rhetoric. 

Ultimately, this is more of a family drama set in the gypsy caravan world than a movie about gypsy life itself.  Still, it’s the slice of life touches that keeps Trespass Against Us’ head above water.  I especially loved all the gypsy slang and lingo, so be sure to watch the film with the subtitles on to get the full impact of the idiosyncratic dialogue.  It’s ironic that their language, which is designed to keep outsiders from understanding what they’re saying is the most endearing thing about them.  At least for me anyway.

THE CAR: ROAD TO REVENGE (2019) ***

 

Who would wait 42 years to make a sequel to The Car?  Why, G.J. Echternkamp, the guy who waited 42 years to make a sequel to Death Race 2000, that’s who!  While it’s vastly uneven and maybe at times downright stupid, The Car:  Road to Revenge is without a doubt the best 42 Years After the Fact Sequel to a Killer Car Movie ever made.

Remember the original?  You know, the one where James Brolin was menaced by a killer car?  Although the car in this one is eventually retrofitted to resemble the car in the first movie, the overall approach couldn’t be more different.  In the first film, there was never an explanation as to why the car killed people.  It was just a killer car on four wheels hellbent to run over a lot of folks.  In this one, we get about twenty whole minutes devoted to laboriously setting up why and how the car came to life. 

You see, an arrogant District Attorney (Jamie Bamber) is desperately trying to bring a demented street gang of bioengineered punks to justice.  One night, the gang breaks into his office and throws him out the window.  Naturally, he lands on his beloved car, The “Lazarus One” (and no, I’m not kidding, that’s the name of the car) and dies instantly.  Possessed by its owner’s spirit, the car wastes no time tracking down the punks that killed him and turning the gang members into human roadkill.

Oh, and did I mention it takes place… IN THE FUTURE?  I mean, I guess that would be okay if the movie was an original piece, but it’s especially odd when you’re trying to connect it to the 1977 original (which took place in 1977).  I never thought I would see a cyberpunk sequel to a James Brolin movie, let alone a cyberpunk sequel to The Car, but here we are.

The gang members are comprised of assorted oddballs that look like extras from The Warriors, Escape from New York, The Crow, and (I’m not kidding) Amadeus.  I mean bizarre doesn’t even begin to cover it.   One guy has a drill bit that extends from his middle finger that he uses to burrow holes through people’s skulls.  The other futuristic tech is also eye-opening.  Take for instance the courtroom scene when a gang member is sentenced to death.  After the verdict is issued, a plastic tube drops down from the ceiling and traps him inside.  The tube then depressurizes, promptly making him explode.  

I guess in the future, there’s no chance for parole.

The car attack scenes are similar to Christine.  The car slowly stalks its prey, before flashing its high beams at them, and running them down.  Sometimes, the car terrorizes them a bit first, making them say stuff like, “What the fuck are you?” before they are ran over, squashed, or pushed over a cliff.

I also thought it was funny that the guy who possesses the car is an asshole.  I guess maybe funny isn’t the right word.  Maybe “refreshing” is the word I was looking for.  I guess he had to be a dick to make the third act work, because it’s here where he finds out his girlfriend (Kathleen Munroe) has moved on and is boning the cop (Grant Bowler) who’s trying to solve his murder.  He doesn’t like that too much and tries to flatten them both like a pancake. 

The killer car scenes are gory as Hell too.  We get a lot of exploding bodies and crushed skulls that turn the pavement red.  Echternkamp also delivers a gnarly little home invasion sequence that kicks all kinds of ass too and announces that our heroine is not a cookie cutter damsel in distress, but an ass-kicking, karate-chopping, machine-gun-toting badass.

Just so you know, there IS some connective tissue with the original film.  The co-star of part one, Ronny Cox also has a cameo here, albeit playing an entirely different character.  This time out, he’s the mechanic who fits the car with the same grill as the one from the first movie.  He doesn’t stick around very long, but if Cox is still alive in 42 years, I sure as hope there’s a place for him in part 3.

Like the Death Race sequels, this was a DTV flick from Universal’s home video branch, 1440 Entertainment.  I don’t know how much IP you have to go through before you make a sequel to The Car, but they’ve obviously reached that point  Not only did Universal save some cash by shooting this baby in Bulgaria, but I think they snuck some B-roll footage from a Fast and the Furious movie in there and passed it off as a chase scene, which I’m sure saved them even more scratch.

Look, The Car:  Road to Revenge is not a perfect film.  It spins its (ahem) wheels in places and the finale is rushed.  However, if you are looking for 88 minutes of gory, brain dead, badass fun, this should fit the bill.  Even if you can’t fully divorce yourself from the original movie, I think you’ll find enough nuttiness here to keep you happy.  I mean there’s a scene in which the villain’s sexy henchwoman crashes the underground cyberpunk bar brandishing a forearm-mounted flamethrower that is just a thing of demented beauty.  I don’t know if anyone will be so bold to call this great cinema, but it is certainly great fun.

AD ASTRA (2019) **

 

James Gray’s Ad Astra is a ponderous and slow-moving film.  It’s also strangely beautiful.  The combination of cool visuals, droning music, and soothing even-toned voices is downright hypnotic.  I’ve seen plenty of movies that have put me to sleep.  This one put me in a trance.  Once I eventually snapped out of it, I was surprised to learn that it was half over.  I just chalked that up to me being overly tired and watching it at a late hour.  I decided I’d come back to it the next day and give it another shot.  I’ll be damned if it didn’t make me zone out again. 

Unfortunately, the hypnotic visuals are at odds with the derivative narrative.  It’s basically Apocalypse Now meets 2001:  A Space Odyssey, but there also some nods to other films along the way.  There’s a scene in which some astronauts attempt to hold up a moon buggy that is framed like a stagecoach robbery in an old western, which of course, makes you immediately think of the space-age western-style hijinks of Moon Zero Two.  We also get a completely random monkey attack that feels like a Zero-G version of Link.  It’s an uneven mix of stuff to be sure.  (There are moments that will make you think of Gravity and Blade Runner too.)

Brad Pitt stars as an astronaut whose father (Tommy Lee Jones) disappeared around the rings of Neptune.  After years of not knowing what happened to his father, he gets word that his dear old dad just might be alive after all.  Unfortunately, there’s a high probability he’s plotting a mutiny that could possibly destroy all life on Earth.

Pitt is good.  He dials himself way down for this one.  His character is cool as a cucumber, as his heart rate never rises about 80 BPM, even during the most perilous calamity.  His laid-back demeanor is a good fit with the calming, picturesque space vistas.

While Ad Astra is always a visual feast, the meat of the story is paper thin at best.  It also doesn’t help that Gray treats all this with such grave seriousness that it leaves little room for a sense of wonder or adventure.  This approach could’ve worked if the film as a whole was meditative in nature.  However, those hokey bits (like the aforementioned rabid monkey attack) promptly undo any sort of hoity-toity aspirations Gray might’ve had for the picture.  Then again, if it wasn’t for the screeching of the killer monkey, I might not have ever snapped out of my trance.

Ad Astra might’ve skated by with a ** ½ rating on visuals alone, but the final act is so heavy handed that it almost feels like a parody.  The final scenes between father and son are painfully obvious and more than a little maudlin.  I don’t know if there’s such a thing as a male version of a Lifetime Movie set in space, but if there is, this is about as close to one as we’re likely ever to get.

FIREBIRD 2015 A.D. (1981) * ½

In the future (you know, five years ago), all cars are outlawed.  The Department of Vehicular Control (DVC) stands guard waiting to blow up any “Burner” (driver) that might venture into the wild for a joyride.  Red (Darren McGavin) is a wily old Burner who reconnects with his estranged son Cam (Robert Charles Wisden) over the love of his car, a souped-up Firebird.  The father and son bond while taking the Firebird out for a spin across the barren desert, which puts them on the radar of the DVC.  When the DVC kidnaps Cam’s girlfriend (Mary Beth Reubens from Prom Night), he and his old man set out to get her back. 

Firebird 2015 A.D. has a cool premise, but the execution is sorry and sloppy.  Despite having a kernel of a good idea, it never quite pops thanks to the sluggish pacing and the far-too-many subplots that gum up the works.  The lovey-dovey shit with Cam and his tomboy dune-buggy-riding girlfriend should’ve been excised right from the get-go (although it does inject the movie with some short-lived T & A).  Trust me, if anything makes a sappy romantic interlude less effective, it’s a dune buggy.  You also have to deal with scenes of a deranged DVC agent going native (literally) as he dresses up in warpaint and begins shooting at and blowing up cars indiscriminately.  The stuff with Doug McClure as the ineffectual head of the DVC falls flat too, mostly because it’s hard to buy McClure as a villain. 

Unfortunately, this is more The Last Chase than Mad Max.  In fact, the future doesn’t look all that bad.  It just sort of looks like Canada.  To make matters worse, there are hardly any races or chases on pavement.  Instead, we get a lot of scenes of cars driving over fields, deserts, and plains, which just doesn’t have the same feeling.  It also doesn’t help that the chase scenes are sorely lacking energy or excitement. 

The scenes that revolve around humans are even weaker.  I did like the part where Reubens tried to seduce Wisden by teaching him to drive a stick though.  The father/son sequences work up to a point, but only if you imagine McGavin is still playing the same dad he played in A Christmas Story.  I mean as far as leading men of dystopian futuristic car chase movies go, McGavin feels like a strange choice.  Ultimately, even his finely tuned performance is unable to save this Firebird from the junkyard.