Devil Girl from Mars (1954)

Devil Girl from Mars (Dir: David McDonald, 1954). 

With Martian men on the verge of extinction, Nyah (Patricia Laffan), a PVC clad dominatrix who bears a passing resemblance to a young Agnes Moorehead, is dispatched to London to collect male specimens for the purpose of repopulating the planet. Think Mars Needs Women (Larry Buchanan, 1968) with a gender reversal and you have the idea. Accompanied by a robot seemingly made from odds and ends found in a garden shed, the would-be seductress with the voice of a British Rail announcer goes off course and crash lands in the Scottish Highlands. Here she invades the remote Bonnie Charlie Inn; the residents of which are a motley bunch including an escaped murder and his girl, an aspiring model, a scientist, an investigative journalist and a sturdy Scots landlady. The men of the Inn aren't up to spec so Nyah must repair her craft and continue on her mission. But those pesky Earthlings have other ideas and are intent on stopping her. You can bet they are sorry when she unleashes a powerful raygun and her giant flowerpot 'bot on them! 

Not as kinky as it sounds, Devil Girl from Mars is a family friendly second feature. If your family likes obscure sci fi with wobbly visual effects that is. With stock characters and predictable plotting, the screenplay is just as bad as the 'special' effects. Some choice dialogue includes a nonchalant: "Mrs Jamieson, may I introduce you to your latest guest, Miss Nyah. She comes from Mars". Possibly my favourite line is the exclaimation of one character, mid-invasion: “Nothing like this has happened to me before!” In fairness, the cast make the best of the woeful script. Hugh McDermott and John Laurie are the most recognisable faces in a cast awash with actors you have seen before but cannot quite remember where. 

Director David McDonald spent the previous two decades in low budget second features. So prolific was his career in the quickies that he could have directed Devil Girl from Mars in his sleep. On the evidence of the finished film he may well have. 

Let’s be brutally honest: Devil Girl from Mars is a load of old tripe. Yet it is oddly compelling, entertaining old tripe. Campy and cringy in equal measure while at the same time oddly twee, it is sci fi schlock of the highest - or should that be lowest? - order. If low budget, lowbrow Brit B movies are your thing you could do worse than check it out. 

The Dark Past (1948)

The Dark Past (Dir: Rudolph Maté, 1948). 

Based upon a play by James Warwick, The Dark Past was filmed previously by Columbia Pictures as Blind Alley (Charles Vidor, 1939). A decade later the same studio resurrected the story for this prime slice of second feature film noir. 

The Dark Past is one of a number of films of its era to deal with the psychology of the criminal mind, the most notable of which was Spellbound (Alfred Hitchcock, 1945). It was shot in the then groundbreaking pseudo documentary style utilised in such movies as Boomerang! (Elia Kazan, 1947) and The Naked City (Jules Dassin, 1948). 

The directorial debut of the talented Rudolph Maté and featuring a now legendary cast, The Dark Past was considered a B-picture; suggested by a short runtime and small scale approach which employs few outdoor shots and feels a little stagy. It does however, feature two powerhouse performances from its leads William Holden and Lee J Cobb.  

Told in flashback and narrated by Cobb as criminal psychiatrist Dr Andrew Collins, Collins relates how he and his family were held hostage by escaped convict Al Walker (Holden). With the help of Walker's girl Betty (Nina Foch), the good doc attempts to uncover Walker's unconscious motivation to kill, a disorder linked to a recurring nightmare following childhood truma. 

The flashback device works somewhat against the narrative, as the audience know the Cobb character survives, thereby robbing the movie of much of its impact. The thrills here are largely generated from the superlative performances, particularly from top billed William Holden whose transformation from coldblooded killer to existential psychoneurotic proved a major dramatic breakthrough for the star. 

Having shot to fame in boxing drama Golden Boy (Rouben Mamoulian, 1939), in the following decade Holden's natural acting talent was largely unexploited. Cast in a series of amiable, if somewhat anemic, nice guy roles, The Dark Past proved to be his most significant performance since his debut. Holden clearly relished the opportunity to play against type and delivers a barnstorming performance; anticipating acclaimed performances in weightier roles such as Sunset Boulevard (Billy Wilder, 1950) and Stalag 17 (Billy Wilder, 1953). 

Cobb too, mostly associated with a fantastic run of on screen heavies, is here cast against type as the good guy. In a less showy role than Holden's he is entirely convincing as the stoic shrink who slowly succeeds in rooting out the cause of Walker's maladies. A sympathetic performance from Nina Foch as the killer's concerned moll completes the impressive star triumvirate. 

While much of the psycho-analysis in The Dark Past is bunk, the movie is excitingly staged by Maté and performed with such professionalism that it matters not. Small scale it may be, but this tense and compelling film noir offers terrific entertainment. Increasingly hard to find in recent years, to my knowledge the only official DVD release is of Spanish origin (titled Cerco de Odio). However, fans of the era crime dramas would do well to seek out this minor classic.

The Colossus of New York (1958)

The Colossus of New York (Dir: Eugène Lourié, 1958). 

Low budget sci fi shocker of the ‘good scientist gone bad’ variety, from Paramount Pictures. 

With story aspects and visuals borrowed liberally from the likes of Der Golem (Paul Wegener & Carl Boese, 1920) and Frankenstein (James Whale, 1931) The Colossus of New York tells of acclaimed scientist Dr Jerry Spensser (Ross Martin); cut down in his prime on the eve of collecting an International Peace Prize. After relieving the dead body of its brain, his surgeon father (Otto Kruger) and automation expert brother (John Baragrey) promptly insert the cranium into that of a 8 foot metal man and, with some incredible shortsightedness, inexplicably fit the robot with death ray laser eyes! Lamenting the lack of a soul and understandably upset at his brother's romancing of his widow (Mala Powers), Dr Jerry breaks free of the laboratory that binds him, and heads cityward, all eyes blazing! But not before a weirdly touching reunion with his fatherless young son Billy (Charles Herbert). 

The Colossus of New York is an incredibly silly movie, but it is not at all bad. Its title is misleading; there certainly is a colossus and he is definitely in New York, or at least in front of a back projection of New York. But those expecting to see a titanic tin man rampaging through Times Square will be bitterly disappointed. It takes until the final reel for the colossus to rock up in the Big Apple and then he causes little actual destruction. Still, much of the movie is moodily atmospheric and the 'bot itself would be pretty intimidating in a dark alley. 

Director Eugène Lourié does his best with what limited resources he has but, as usual, is hampered by a small budget. Also a noted art director Lourié, would direct only four movies, all of which were sci-fi/horror genre flicks. While he certain displayed a flair for the subjects, he sadly never graduated from second features and would not repeat the success of his directorial debut, creature feature classic The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (E. Lourié, 1953). 

Despite its obvious flaws (mainly due to budgetary constraints) The Colossus of New York is well worth a watch. It is no masterpiece, but is well directed and entertaining. With some unintentional giggles along the way. The moral of the tale? Automation is a wonderful thing, but don’t go putting human brains in robots.

Attack of the 50 Foot Woman (1958)

Attack of the 50 Foot Woman (Dir: Nathan Hertz, 1958). 

Proto-feminist text or trash classic? As much as some film historians claim it’s the former, I think sci-fi/horror Attack of the 50 Foot Woman is probably the later. 

The previous year Universal hit big with seminal sci-fi shocker The Incredible Shrinking Man (Jack Arnold, 1957); independent producer Bernard Woolner was quick to spot a bandwagon and promptly jumped aboard, flipping that movie’s concept for one of a giant woman! In the process delivering a cheap and cheerful exploitation film aimed squarely at the drive-in, double feature market.  

After arguing with her two-timing husband, heiress and owner of the world's most expensive diamond Nancy Archer (Alison Hayes) has a run in with an extra-terrestrial satellite, inexplicably inhabited by a 30 foot bald-headed behemoth (Michael Ross, doubling as Tony the bartender). Radiation exposure results in Nancy growing to a whopping 50 feet in height. Meanwhile husband Harry (William Hudson) takes the opportunity to steal her diamond and ensconce with fancy-lady Honey (Yvette Vickers). Soon the police are on their tail as, more worryingly, is Nancy who wants her diamond and her man back!

Cheap and cheerful The Attack of the 50 Foot Woman may be, but it isn't without a peculiar charm. The special effects are naive, to put it politely. From see through process shots to large papier-mâché limbs, budget restrictions are glaringly obvious, yet this all adds to the fun.

 

It is helped immeasurably by a game cast who play the whole thing absolutely straight, with performances that are not at all bad considering the schlocky nature of the material. Working under the pseudonym of Nathan Hertz is talented director Nathan Juran, perhaps understandably not wanting his name on an end product hampered by a minuscule budget. Yet, within the obvious monetary restraints, he delivers a tightly plotted, well paced and highly enjoyable movie. 

Those expecting a gal Godzilla maybe disappointed. The rampaging is saved for the final moments, while the publicity image of a mini-skirted, enormous Nancy straddling the highway and picking up cars like Tonka toys is sadly not recreated in the feature. Yet there is still much to enjoy in this movie which has deservedly become a cult favourite.

It is fair to suggest that a larger budget and more convincing special effects would have made Attack of the 50 Foot Woman a slicker, more professional movie. But in all honesty I don’t think it would have made a more entertaining one. 

Rather than the adequate, serious shocker it may have been, Attack of the 50 Foot Woman is a campy cinematic treat! A drive-in classic and a lot of fun! 

The Dead Don’t Die (2019)

The Dead Don’t Die (Dir: Jim Jarmusch, 2019).

Writer/director Jim Jarmusch pays homage to George A Romero in the zombie comedy (zomedy?) The Dead Don’t Die. 

Rural small town Centerville finds itself in the midst of of zombie uprising somehow linked to the altering of the Earth's rotation due to polar fracking (?). At the centre of the action are local police chief Cliff Robertson (Bill Murray) and his partner, officer Ronnie Peterson (Adam Driver), who must attempt to hold off the meat hungry horde from consuming the community.

Although, its roots are firmly planted in Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (George A Romero, 1968) and its subsequent sequels, with or without a knowledge of the Romero oeuvre, The Dead Don’t Die is still a fun, albeit grizzly Zombie fest. All the ingredients are present to make a classic comedy horror in the vein of say, Shaun of the Dead (Edgar Wright, 2004), and this it very nearly achieves. But ultimately, while it’s nicely atmospheric with gore to spare, something it about doesn’t quite gel. If it has any flaws it is that it tries a little too hard to be quirky; as if a cult movie by design. It’s never quite as funny as it should be, while attempts to break the fourth wall and references to movie’s script seem a little laboured and too self-conscious.  

With Jim Jarmusch as director and an outstanding cast the movie was never going to be a total loss. Of the cast, Adam Driver stands out; proving with each role that there is more to him than brooding bad guy Kylo Ren. Master of deadpan Bill Murray is, well, Bill Murray being deadpan. This, however, should be enough for most viewers. Meanwhile, Tilda Swinton is a welcome addition as a samurai sword wielding undertaker,  although her character is a little underused and seems likely added to up the quirky quotient. 

The Dead Don’t Die is a good movie. I just get the feeling it could have been better. While it must be regarded as a minor entry on Jarmusch’s CV it is still a worthwhile watch. Especially for lovers of the living dead. 

The Black Scorpion (1957)

The Black Scorpion (Dir: Edward Ludwig, 1957).

Swapping atomic ants for subterranean scorpions and the Los Angeles sewers for the caverns of the Mexico desert, The Black Scorpion shamelessly hitches a ride on the coattails of monster movie masterpiece Them! (Gordon Douglas, 1954).

An undistinguished B-movie cast of little charisma cannot help but be overshadowed by the giant scorpions rampaging the southern portion of North America. The second hand plot finds the enormous arachnids chowing down on the San Lorenzo locals. Luckily some US scientists are on hand to make sure the pesky critters do not hop the border. Yup, the plot really is as lazy as my description of it.  

Surprisingly for a 1950s creature feature, the beasts of The Black Scorpion are not the result of radiation exposure. Rather, they are a species of underground primeval predators who nip up to surface for a little human snacking after some volcanic activity. This matter aside, the movie is pretty much Them! 2 (or Them! Again!). Yet while it doesn't live up to its superior predecessor, the movie isn’t a total loss. 

The giant scorpions are the work of the granddaddy of stop motion animation, Willis O’Brien. O’Brien is, of course, the special effects legend who gave life to the mighty King Kong (Merian C Cooper & Ernest B Schoedsack, 1933). This is late in his career and it is clear O’Brien is working on a budget. Yet even within the restraints of a B-Movie budget the effects are largely satisfying. The model work is good, especially when seen at a distance. Less successful are the oft-repeated close up of a scorpion's drool dripping face; more likely to raise a laugh than instil fear in the audience. Some unfortunate process shots, in which the scorpions are superimposed in silhouette over the action, are also below standard and are reportedly the result of cost-cutting. Compensation comes in the form of a spectacular showdown in a football stadium which ramps up the schlock value to great effect 

Ultimately, The Black Scorpion is little more than a Them! knock off. It isn’t a bad movie, but neither is it a particularly good movie. Neither is it so bad it’s good. The scorpion attacks are entertaining, but in its quieter moments the film is a little dull. The tension building that made Them! such a terrific thriller is absent here and without that movie’s moral take on atomic energy it is less a snapshot of 1950s fears and anxieties. While the film is of value to 50s creature feature freaks like me, it is definitely a monster movie also ran; worth a watch for Willis O’Brien’s effects work but little else. 

House (1985)

House (Dir: Steve Miner, 1985).

From Sean S Cunningham, producer/director of Friday the 13th (1980) and Steve Miner, director of Friday the 13th Part II (1981) comes House, a shocker of a markedly lighter tone than the slasher movies for which either was known. 

Promoted as a comedy horror, House stars William Katt as horror author Roger Cobb (presumably modeled after Stephen King) a Vietnam vet who is mourning the recent suicide of a beloved aunt and the mysterious disappearance of his young son. Both events are somehow connected to the creepy house which his aunt has left to Cobb in her will. Retreating to his aunt's abode to write a biographical novel based upon his wartime experiences, he is haunted by all manner of apparitions, included that of comrade Big Ben (Richard Moll) who died in Vietnam. Naturally folks think Cobb is crazy. Enlisting the help of amiable neighbour Harold (George Wendt), Cobb battles to overcome both inner-demons and the curse of the house of horrors. 

Missing kids and suicidal aunts may seem an odd choice of subject for a comedy, even one with horror elements. However, what seems even odder is how a comedy about a war veteran evidently suffering from PTSD was ever greenlit in the first place. While I am pretty sure this raised zero eyebrows in ‘85, three decades later it leaves a decidedly nasty taste. I do acknowledge that this was almost certainly not the intention of the filmmakers and is, instead, indicative of changing (for the better) attitudes. 

Unfortunately the genre straddling in House is not particularly successful, as the film has no firm footing in either comedy or horror. Aside from from some neat satirical swipes on the relationship between author and fanbase, viewers are presented with a comedy which is light on laughs and a horror with no real frights. Gore fans in the audience will be disappointed as this is pretty much a blood and guts free affair, which is fine with me.  

In many respects, House is the cinematic equivalent of a fairground haunted house or ghost train; every so often a rubber creature pops up to offer a jump scare but there is little for genre aficionados to really sink their teeth into. Serviceable special effects enhance the mild thrills but are not particularly groundbreaking and the movie can't help but feel just a little generic. The ‘Nam flashbacks are fairly well mounted but their seriousness feels out of sync with the otherwise comic tone. While they eventually have their payoff, these scenes also feel a little like an attempt to bring the movie runtime up to feature length. 

William Katt is a little bland in the lead; likeable enough but never quite convincing as a man experiencing some major traumas. Although sadly underused, it was nice to see George Wendt in a fairly substantial feature film role. Best known as Norm on TV's long running sitcom Cheers (1982-93), Wendt plays another affable beer drinking everyman type which, let's be honest, doesn't really tax his talents.

Early on in the movie, a ghostly apparition proclaims “Leave while you can!” and I can’t help but feel that this is a warning to the audience. Yet it was popular enough in ‘85 to spawn an incredible 3 sequels, so maybe I am being too harsh on the movie. I am sure that House has its fans, but I imagine that these are largely those who enjoyed it back in the 80s. I can’t really see it having any wide appeal to newcomers. I wouldn't say House is entirely without entertainment value, it plodded along well enough but it was a little underwhelming. It is certainly not the worst movie I have seen, or even one of the worst. However, when the Clint Ballard classic ‘You’re No Good’ plays over the end credits, it’s hard to disagree. 

The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953)

The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (Dir: Eugène Lourié, 1953). 

This sci-fi classic from the heyday of the monster movies marked the cinematic pairing of fantasy titans and lifelong friends, author Ray Bradbury and stop-motion animator Ray Harryhausen. 

Based upon Bradbury's short story The Fog Horn, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms tells of the mighty Rhedosaurus, a 200 foot, disease-ridden, carnivorous dinosaur frozen in suspended animation for millions of years and unwittingly thawed by an experimental Arctic atomic explosion, Awakened from his frosty slumber, old Rhed proceeds south to North America's east coast and the warmer waters of the Atlantic. En route to New York he overturns a fishing boat and destroys an innocent lighthouse, before rocking up in the Big Apple to wreck havoc in the city, culminating in an awesome Coney Island showdown between monster and military.

Five minutes into the movie you would be forgiven for mistaking it for a serious minded and somewhat dry science documentary. Yet this somber tone sets the mood for what is to follow. Unlike many 1950s creature features, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms is no schlock horror. Of course the science is hokum but the movie takes its self seriously and thanks to superior storytelling and subtle performances from its cast, the audience does too.

For modern viewers the cast is a little less than star-studded, but effective nonetheless. Leading man Paul Christian (sometimes billed as Paul Hubschmid), is believable as the witness whose claims are dismissed by all but a pretty paleontologist, the appealing Paula Raymond. Together they exhibit a natural chemistry and make a likeable screen couple. Genre regular Kenneth Tobey crops up in a supporting role as an initially skeptical colonel. However, the real star of the show is the magnificent Rhedosaurus brought to life via some terrific stop-motion animation courtesy of special effects legend Ray Harryhausen. Harryhausen fills the movie with seemingly endless iconic moments; dino fans will be in reptile rapture as the monster raises its head above the New York docks and rampages down Wall Street, munching on a cop for breakfast! Best of all is the sight of the full length beast tearing down a lighthouse, as the keepers attempt to exit the crumbling structure via spiral staircase. Such is the personality present in the animation that monster fans like me may find their sympathies lie with the beast. After all the poor fella didn't ask to be defrosted.

The Beast of 20,000 Fathoms' superior spectacle makes for a visual experience bettered by little else of its era. Credit also to director Eugène Lourié who keeps the tension mounting in the atmospheric non-action sequences. Surprisingly, the movie takes less of a critical view of nuclear energy than many of its contemporaries, notably atomic ant fest Them! (Gordon Douglas, 1954). While the action in some respects revisits King Kong (Merian C Cooper & Ernest B Schoedsack, 1933), it does so without the moral concerns of the ape exploitation tale. In essence, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms is pulp cinema in its purist form; exquisitely made and enormously entertaining. Subsequent monster movies from Godzilla (Ishiro Honda, 1954) to Jurassic Park (Steven Spielberg, 1993) to Cloverfield (Matt Reeves, 2008) and beyond all owe a debt to this original masterpiece.

For pedantic pre-hisorians in the audience, no the Rhedosaurus is not a real dinosaur; but surely no one is here for a lesson in paleohistory, just sit back enjoy the carnage!

 

Dr Cyclops (1939)

 Dr Cyclops (Dir: Ernest B Schoedsack, 1939). 

Legendary King Kong (1933) co-directors and producers Ernest Schoedsack and Merian C Cooper reunite for this unusual shocker, based on a story by Henry Kuttner. Co produced by Dale Van Every, Dr Cyclops was released through Paramount Pictures. 

Fans of mythical beasts will be disappointed to learn that the titular Doctor Cyclops is not an actual cyclops and has two working eyes, although failing sight demands that he wear some rather thick lens spectacles which earns mad scientist Dr Alexander Thorkel (Albert Dekker) his nickname. Thorkel has been in the depths of the Peruvian jungle for some years working on a secret experiment. Fellow scientists Dr Robinson (Janice Rule) and Dr Bullfinch (Charles Halton) are duly dispatched to his remote lab as Thorkel's assistants, teaming up with donkey supplier Bill (Thomas Coley) and Peruvian handyman Pedro (Frank Yaconelli) en route. On arriving, the gang are dismayed when the less than welcoming Doc Thorkel asks them to leave. Eager to learn why the doctor is so secretive, the gang do some snooping and are surprised to learn he has discovered a rich vein of pitchblende ore, containing uranium and radium. The demented doc is using the ore to shrink living creatures and promptly downsizes his curious colleagues. The gang must return to normal size and thwart the doctor's evil plans, but not before battling with oversized jungle foliage and enduring some close calls with enormous crocodile and a kingsized kitty cat. 

As the doc, Albert Dekker cuts a particularly imposing figure, especially in comparison to his shrunken co-stars. Token female Janice Logan has the requisite lung capacity for screaming at everything but why Frank Yaconelli, as Pedro, is forced to spend the entirety of the feature in an adult diaper is anybody's guess! The rest of the not exactly starry cast are never less than proficient in a movie which, let’s be honest, is more about thrills and special effects than the performances. 

Speaking of which, the 80 year old effects in Dr Cyclops hold up beautiful. Hailing from a pre-digital age they rely mostly on forced perspective and oversized props. This can at times lead to movie feeling a little studio bound but it is a visually impressive spectacle nonetheless. The movie has the distinction of being the first horror flick to utilise the three-strip Technicolor process. The muted colour pallet, which utilises every shade of green imaginable, is eerily atmospheric and lends the movie an off-kilter, almost queasy ambiance. 

Produced just prior to the the outbreak of WWII, a sense of the impending world conflict prevails throughout the feature, be it intentional or not. Considering forthcoming events and the race to produced the atom bomb which would eventually bring an end to the War, the narrative is eerily prescient. Notable as an early example of the ‘science gone wrong’ movie, Dr Cyclops addresses the notion of atomic mutation a good decade and a half before the genre classics such as Them! (Gordon Douglas, 1954) and The Incredible Shrinking Man (Jack Arnold, 1957). 

Dr Cyclops' lasting influence on popular cinema is undeniable. From The Incredible Shrinking Man through schlock favourite Attack of the Puppet People (Burt I Gordon, 1958) to blockbusters Honey, I Shrunk the Kids (Joe Johnston, 1989) and Marvel’s Ant Man (Peyton Reed, 2015); all owe a debt to this innovative precursor. While not quite in the same league as cinematic masterpiece King Kong, it is still a excellent addition to Schoedsack’s oeuvre. Exciting and at times campily fun, the movie is a weird and wonderful treat from Hollywood’s golden age. 

 

Escape to Witch Mountain (1975)

Escape to Witch Mountain (Dir: John Hough, 1975).

A family friendly, sci-fi suspense from Walt Disney Productions. Based upon the 1968 novel by Alexander Key. 

Tony (Ike Eisenmann) and Tia Malone (Kim Richards) are two orphaned kids with ESP. Where they got their powers and where they come from is a mystery but makes them outcasts among their peers in the children’s home. Their powers attract unwanted attention from powerful but crooked businessman Aristotle Bolt (Ray Milland) and his assistant Lucas Deranian (Donald Pleasence). Posing as the Malones’ uncle, Deranian adopts the pair with the intention of exploiting them. Escaping from the clutches of Bolt and Deranian the kids stowaway aboard the motor home of curmudgeonly widower Jason O’Day (Eddie Albert) who eventually warms to them and agrees to take them to Witch Mountain, a mysterious place which is somehow connected to Tony and Tia’s past. 

The Disney live-action movies of the 1970s were often met with derision from critics and apathy from audiences. Without the guidance of company founder Walt Disney, the studio's output was becoming increasingly formulaic. Budget cuts were also noticeably taken their toll on the once polished Disney product. In the studio's history, this era is the one often regarded as a 'dark age'. Yet, the more I watch of the studio's 1970s movies, the more I feel the era is deserving of reassessment. There are some gems to be found in the back catalogue, including this excellent science fiction adventure. 

Something of a departure for both Disney and director John Hough; Escape to Witch Mountain is an intelligent, serious minded sci-fi with genuine moments of suspense. Disney had delved into the sci-fi market in the past, resulting in fantasy comedies such as The Absent-Minded Professor (Robert Stevenson, 1961) and Moon Pilot (James Neilson, 1962). ...Witch Mountain was something entirely different. Certainly there were moments of levity among the dramatics but this is no comedy and only in the final reel does the movie resort to the type of broad slapstick which gave Disney movies of the era a bad name. 

Previously associated with horror movies such as Twins of Evil (J Hough, 1971) and The Legend of Hell House (J Hough, 1973) director Hough seems an unlikely choice for the material but creates a tremendously atmospheric film and displays a steady hand as the action moves from sci-fi fantasy to mystery to cross-country (or at least cross-California) chase movie. The pacing is exemplary, with the children’s backstory and the reason for their powers revealed slowly to the audience as scraps of memories and hazy flashbacks are recalled onscreen. There are some genuine thrills as the pair escape Bolt and evade the authorities in their attempt to reach the titular mount. Darker moments are levitated by modest yet effective special effects and some animal action which should please younger audience members. Only in the final showdown between the kids and Bolt does the feature suffer from a somewhat jarring change of tone as it becomes markedly more comic and whimsical. However, this more typically Disney climax is a small concession to a movie otherwise distinguished by a darker tone than was usually associated with the studio. 

The film also benefits from a top quality cast. Ray Milland's pantomimic performance of baddie Bolt is contrasted nicely by Donald Pleasence's more nuanced and sinister performance as the seemingly benevolent Uncle Lucas. Eddie Albert is appealing as the gruff yet warm-hearted loner who takes the children under his wing and into his Winnebago. 

Cute kids are kind of a prerequisite in 70s Disney and Kim Richards, already familiar from TV’s Nanny and the Professor (1972-1973) and Ike Eisenmann certainly fit the mould. Not that this undermines their assured performances which match those of the seasoned adults. Their similarity in appearance, coupled with an appealing chemistry lends an authenticity to the portrayal of onscreen siblings; while their blonde hair and blue eye evoke memories of the decidedly more sinister ‘outsider’ kids of classic sci-fi shocker Village of the Damned (Wolf Rilla, 1960). 

Escape to Witch Mountain would provide Disney with a rare artistic and commercial success in a largely critically reviled era. Two further theatrical films would follow: Return to Witch Mountain (John Hough, 1978) and Race to Witch Mountain (Andy Fickman, 2009), plus the television outings Beyond Witch Mountain (Robert Day, 1982) and a radically re-worked remake Escape to Witch Mountain (Peter Rader, 1995). All are recommended viewing, but none quite top the appeal of the original. 

In Escape to Witch Mountain, Disney and Hough have crafted an exciting and intelligent sci-fi adventure that easily holds its own against the studio’s more polished productions. The movie still ranks among the very best of the Disney Studios’ live-action movies; a classic equally enjoyable for kids and grown-ups.

Scooby-Doo and the Curse of the 13th Ghost (2019)

Scooby-Doo and the Curse of the 13th Ghost (Dir: Cecilia Aranovich Hamilton, 2019).

Scooby-Doo Where are You! debuted on US TV network CBS in the late summer of 1969 and was an instant success for creators Joe Ruby and Ken Spears and producers Hanna-Barbera. In the 50 years since, Scooby-Doo, through various reboots and reruns, has rarely been off TV screens. In recent years the franchise has spawned a handful of live action feature films, the recent CGI reboot Scoob! (Tony Cervone, 2020) and an incredible 37 animated features produced for the home market. A recent entry in the feature film series is Scooby Doo and the Curse of the 13th Ghost. This Warner Bros Animation effort is the continuation and conclusion of the 1985 series The 13 Ghosts of Scooby-Doo. 

Virtually everyone of a certain age who enjoyed Saturday Morning Cartoons in the 1970s to 1990s will have an affinity for Scooby-Doo. The series was adapted and retooled many times in the course of its history. Premiering in September 1985, The 13 Ghosts of Scooby-Doo was its most radical re-invention to date. Ditching Fred and Velma from the gang, Mystery Incorporated team up with the mystical Vincent Van Ghoul in order to capture 13 ‘real’ spirits accidentally released from a magic chest by Scooby. While this was arguably the freshest version of the show since the original series, it drew criticism from those who accused the show of endorsing the occult. As a result the show was cancelled before the season end and the final pesky paranormal entities were never captured. 

Picking up the plot presumably some years after the series (but who knows as the gang never seem to age), the movie finds Mystery Inc on the verge of retirement following the bungling of a recent case when the gang are contacted, via a crystal ball, by old friend and associate Vincent Van Ghoul. Van Ghoul is eager to find the 13th missing spirit (not discovered before the show was cancelled) and the gang are once again on a ghost hunt. This time around there is no janitor in a rubber mask as the ghosts are real! Or are they? A skeptical Velma is out to prove to the gang that 'ghoul' is not always how it appears.

In a neat twist Daphne ditches her dumb blonde persona to lead the gang, as in the original 13 Ghosts... While Fred, who was absent from the original show, has a existential crisis when relegated to the backseat of the Mystery Machine. Vincent Van Ghoul, voiced by the great Vincent Price on TV, is here voiced by Maurice LaMarche, giving a creditable impersonation of Price. The character retains the late actor's physical appearance. Missing from the TV show, but not necessarily missed are gang members Scrappy-Doo, Scooby's annoying nephew and a granite voiced pre-teen Flim-Flam, who was thankfully retired with the series demise. 

Scooby-Doo and the Curse of the 13th Ghost is a good looking movie. Lacking the scope of bigger budget features but a step up from traditional Saturday morning fare; the bright colours and appealing character design somewhat make up for a lack of finesse in the animation department. That it is based on a largely overlooked TV show from 35 years earlier may suggest that this is aimed more at nostalgic grown-ups than younger Scooby fans. Yet there are enough of the requisite mild frights and goofy humour to please younger Doo devotees; a little knowledge of the original show would be a bonus but is not essential. A worthy addition to the ever growing franchise, the movie offers pretty solid family fun. It won’t change your life, but it should keep you out of mischief for 80 minutes. 

Stan & Ollie (2018)

Stan & Ollie (Dir: Jon S Baird, 2018).

The big screen biopic has had a resurgence in popularity in recent years. From the stories of British rock stars Freddie Mercury in Bohemian Rhapsody (Bryan Singer, 2018) and Elton John in Rocketman (Dexter Fletcher, 2019) to Hollywood's own golden age legends Judy Garland in Judy (Rupert Goold, 2019) and this biopic of beloved comedy duo Laurel and Hardy. 

Movies about the movies have long been a staple in Hollywood, but Stan & Ollie has a somewhat different approach to many of the biographical titles which have preceded it. Most notably, it ignores the the duo’s well documented heyday, being with the stars’ falling out over a contractual dispute with producer Hal Wallis in 1937. From here we jump to the early 1950s when the pair, reunited but still nursing wounds over the quarrel, embark on a comeback tour of the UK and Ireland. Here the tour is initially mishandled by promoter Bernard Delfont and the pair are playing to largely empty venues, although the duo are eventually afforded the warm welcome they deserve. Stan & Ollie chronicles the stars' strained relationships with each other and their partners, while also detailing their attempts to reignite a movie career. Eventually Hardy's failing health brings an abrupt halt to the tour but also signals a renewed reconciliation between the pair. 

Of course a movie like this succeeds or fails on the strength of the performances. I am happy to report that both Steve Coogan and John Reilly are excellent in their respective roles as Stan and Ollie. Not only do they look like the stars (with help from prosthetics) their studied physicality and vocal performances are spot on. In a narrative interspersed with comedy skits, the stars are entirely convincing as the comic legends; a recreation of a song and dance routine from the pair's classic Way Out West (James W Horne, 1937) is meticulously recreated. Standout among the supporting cast are Rufus Jones, excellent in the small but important role of Delfont and Shirley Henderson and Nina Arianda as the duo's wives Lucille Hardy and Ida Kitaeva Laurel respectively. 

The backstreet theatres and dive hotels of the initial phase of the tour are lovingly recreated in an evocative portrayal of post-War Britain. Plaudits to cinematographer Laurie Rose's muted colour pallet and soft focus photography which add immensely to the warmly nostalgic period atmosphere. 

While Stan & Ollie may appeal most to fans of the duo, the movie is strong enough to appeal to the most casual admirers. Indeed I would recommend the movie to anyone with the slightest interest in Golden Age Hollywood or the halcyon days of British variety theatre. Both Mr Coogan and Mr Reilly offer career best performances in their respective roles in this warmhearted, affectionate account of Hollywood's most fondly remembered comedy performers in the twilight of their careers.