Category: Netflix (page 15 of 27)

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Falling Down

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I’m going to go out on a limb and make an assumption about you, the person about to experience this review. If you’re above the age of university graduation, you’re working a job you don’t particularly like. Chances are, instead of being in a place where you do something that not only pays your bills but fuels your passion, you’re in a position where one need is getting fulfilled while another is getting neglected. I know it’s not going to be true for everybody, but for the majority of people interested in seeing Falling Down, the miasma of soul-crushing modern urban life coupled with negative daily experiences like a commute and estranged family are elements that are familiar, painful and a means to forge immediate empathy with a man who, despite his politeness and intelligence, isn’t necessarily a very good person.

And yet, he’s our protagonist.

Courtesy Alcor Films

His name is William Foster, but most people will come to know him as “D-FENS”, the vanity plate on his 1979 Chevelle. Said car has a busted air conditioner and we find Foster sitting in the car, stuck in Los Angeles traffic on the hottest day of the year. For reasons not immediately explained but revealed bit by bit throughout the story, D-FENS abandons his car and declares he’s going home. He walks from one part of the city to another, encountering little annoyances that most people deal with or accept with at least some measure of restraint. It’s quickly clear, however, that D-FENS is unrestrained. Something has snapped deep within this man, and he is lashing out at whomever gets in his way. Store owners, gang members, by-standers, anybody. He begins his walk unarmed and seemingly harmless. As time goes on, the stakes get higher, his arsenal grows and a legacy of battered individuals and urban legends spring up in his wake. He doesn’t care. He just wants to go home.

Every step Foster takes not only takes him closer to home, but further down a very dark and disturbing path and brings us closer to a full understand of what made him the way he is. Thanks to a tour-de-force performance by Michael Douglas, we see Foster not as any sort of hero and, by the end, he barely qualifies as a decent human being. What’s chilling about him is his single-mindedness, his ironclad determination to complete his journey and his deep resentment for anyone who tries to belittle or downplay his rights or his ambitions. This could literally be any one of a million people who work a job for most of their adult lives only to be told their position is no longer economically viable, are rejected by the people they love and get confronted by personal irritants at every turn. It may feel at times like D-FENS is being set up by some mischievous god, but the fact is that none of the people he encounters, with one exception, are better or worse by a large degree than he is. They’re all selfish, self-involved and angry about something.

He just has more guns than they do.

Courtesy Alcor Films

This film was marketed, for the most part, as a revenge flick in the vein of Charles Bronson’s many stabs at the action genre. But many stories in that style, from the ongoing urban reclamation of The Punisher to the faith-fueled rampages of the Boondock Saints, have an atmosphere of fantasy about them, the sort of juvenile wish-fulfillment that still exists deep in the heart of movie-goers like myself who remember and, in some cases, cling to the frustrations of growing up in a hostile environment and longing for ways to fight back. Falling Down does show us what could happen when an ordinary man indulges in that wish-fulfillment, but it plays the results 100% straight and never, ever lets us forget that what D-FENS is doing is wrong. The police get involved right away, and it’s in this that the blurbs and posters fail, as the movie only gains its true depth and examination with the addition of Sergeant Prendergrast, played excellently by Robert Duvall.

Courtesy Alcor Films

The differences between Foster and Prendergrast may at first seem jarring. Foster is a cold, driven, frighteningly intelligent and very bitter man, while Prendergrast is kind, considerate, quietly looking forward to retirement and seems a bit like everybody’s dad. However, these two men are separated only by the thinnest of lines. Both deal with frustrating situations and inconsiderate people, but while Foster is acting out at all times against all comers, Prendergrast takes what he can on the chin. He doesn’t lash out unless it’s necessary. When it is necessary, he doesn’t hold back. But his restraint, in stark contrast with Foster’s lack of it, underscores the utter depravity of D-FENS’ actions.

At one point, Prendergrast points out that everybody makes choices. In dealing with a spouse, in pursuing a goal, in facing a situation that drives us up the wall with anger, we make choices. Some choose to deal with the situation as best they can, rolling with the punch and looking for an opening to push through to something better. Some fold completely under pressure and harbor resentment for later. And some pull out a gun at the fast food counter when they ask for breakfast at 11:34 AM when restaurant policy says breakfast stops getting served at 11:30. Most reasonable people would take a deep breath and order from the lunch menu instead.

Courtesy Alcor Films
“I don’t want lunch. I want breakfast.”

And yet, as unhinged and wrong as Foster’s actions are, we cheer for him. We delight in the revenge he takes on the cold, unfeeling world around him. We might even picture ourselves doing the same thing in the same situation. We would likely even consider ourselves in the right, as Foster does. Yet as the weight of his actions hurtles towards him, and Prendergast tracks him down, he comes to a chilling realization that’s been clear to us as outside observers practically from the start. “I’m the bad guy,” D-FENS says. “How did that happen?”

From writing to direction, from acting to shot composition, this is an excellent film. The downward spiral of Foster and the mounting aggravation of Prendergast mirror one another perfectly, the motivations of Foster are revealed at a great pace and the action never feels unrealistic or contrived, with one or two exceptions. It’s fun to watch and deeply engrossing at the same time. While we chuckle at D-FENS struggling with a rocket launcher, we also may see ourselves in his sullen, grim and bitter demeanor. Falling Down holds a mirror up to our lives and asks us how much we see in the reflection. It’s less a revenge flick or action thriller than it is one of the most badass exercises in self-examination I’ve seen in quite some time. It definitely belongs on your Netflix queue if you haven’t seen it before.

Here we have evidence that Joel Schumacher can, in fact, make a damn fine thriller. I still want to take a bat to his knees for Batman & Robin though. And then I’m going after the idiots who don’t give subtitle options on certain Netflix Instant selections. Now I have to wait a week or two to review Oldboy. Would a hammer be more appropriate than a bat? Or maybe a chainsaw. Wait, is that a sword hanging over…?

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Masters of the Universe

This week’s IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! brought to you by a generous donation by Rick Carroll. Thank you for your support!

Logo courtesy Netflix.  No logos were harmed in the creation of this banner.

[audio:http://www.blueinkalchemy.com/uploads/he-man.mp3]

The universe, be there a master of it or no, seems to have an interesting sense of irony. You see, I watched Toy Story 3 for the first time the night before I put this little gem into my computer’s optical drive. I had He-Man toys when I was growing up. In fact, one impetuous act of youth had me seeing Skeletor’s evil castle long before I was supposed to unwrap the gift. Oddly, though, I don’t remember seeing Masters of the Universe clearly before now, save one occasion where I might have been watching it and remember it being very, very dark. My memory might have been affected by booze or therapy, but I really can’t recall anything about that film which etched it into my mind as one based on some of the favorite toys of my childhood.

Seeing it now, I think I know why I didn’t remember it. I’m hoping I can find a way to forget it again as I write this.

Courtesy Cannon Pictures

Even from the opening titles, I was faced with a major flaw in the movie. The grandiose music, the swooshing credits, the somber narration – this movie’s trying very, very hard to be the original Superman. But the director is not Richard Donner. The music’s composer is not John Williams. Even when this came out, Superman was ten years old. This means Masters of the Universe was dated when it was in theaters. Other movies from earlier, working in a similar vein with similar material and even similar looks, are a lot more fun than this movie. Flash Gordon immediately springs to mind. That was camp. This is crap.

Let me ask your indulgence to explain, as I see it, the difference between camp and crap. Both are styles of film where the material is silly, the premise far-fetched and the budget on a level quite a bit below the usual summer blockbuster. But camp has fun with this. Camp is fully aware of how silly it is, and it’s grinning and laughing right along with you. Crap, on the other hand, plays it all straight. Masters of the Universe is definitely the latter. Between the stilted writing, the freshman-year-of-film-school directing and several hero-cast members acting so wooden they make Hayden Christensen look like Oscar material, this movie wouldn’t know camp if Flash Gordan and Jack Burton were sitting in its backyard toasting marshmallows and pitching tents.

Courtesy Cannon Pictures
“Um… guys? Does anybody remember how we got here?”

I realize I’ve been complaining already, and for two solid paragraphs, without mentioning the story of this movie. I’m not even sure it’s worth a mention. Basically, there’s this fight going on between the heroes defending the castle Greyskull and the villains attacking from Snake Mountain. An ill-explained turn of events and a magitechnical MacGuffin see the heroes catapulted to Earth. Other than the names and the occasional location, there’s really nothing at all connecting this story, its characters or anything about this movie to the action figures or cartoons that brought it into being.

I guess the whole storyline of foppish, cowardly Prince Adam secretly being He-Man wasn’t good enough for this movie. We get a midget inventor who looks like he was carved out of a pile of sick instead. I have no idea why this character is necessary at all. The closest parallel that comes to mind is Orko, but at least Orko had a purpose half the time and had the good sense not to follow He-Man around when he’s raiding Skeletor’s stronghold. You know it’s bad when a character in the movie makes you miss the “Scrappy” comic relief character from the cartoon. Dolph Lundgren sports an outfit bought at an S&M yard sale and a hilarious He-Mullet as he makes his way from one scene to another with an expression that is of a man either utterly lost or putting on a manly show to try and hide how utterly lost he is. Teela’s practically gutted, the mercenaries sneer like high schoolers snatched up to play villains in a Saturday amateur dramatics production and I’m going to reiterate that Gwildor is even more arbitrary than the whole “sent to Earth by happenstance” excuse for a plot. At least Man-at-Arms is having some fun.

Courtesy Cannon Pictures
“No I’m not. You leave me out of this. And stop checking out my daughter’s ass!”

It’s a bad sign when you find yourself wanting to spend more time around the villains than the heroes. Skeletor has decent make-up and an agenda that he pursues rather intelligently, and Evil-Lyn not only makes evil look pretty damn good, she does everything Skeletor orders her to do and does it well. For the bulk of the movie I came damn close to rooting for the ruthless magitechnological dictator and his sultry right-hand girl. Even the innocent Earthling bystanders have more pathos and character than the heroes. I mean, say what you want about Courtney Cox and Robert Duncan MacNeill – yes, that’s Tom Paris – but they can actually salvage something watchable out of this mess. As the movie hurtles towards its lackluster and flaccid climax, though, the things I found myself almost liking dribbled away one after another: Evil-Lyn had less to do, a police detective tried and failed to upstage the kids caught up in the fight, and Skeletor not only got a little to into He-Man getting whipped by a fellow bondage show refugee, he also started taking fashion tips from Lo Pan’s gay cousin Emperor Wang. I didn’t care about the outcome of what was probably meant to be an epic battle, save for the fact that seeing it end brought with it the end of the film. Finally.

Masters of the Universe leaves the unfortunate viewer with so many questions. Why does a movie from 1987 look and feel like something from a decade before? You’d think special effects would have at least grown a bit beyond recycled bits from other sources. If Skeletor achieves godhood, why does he still need his minions to do his bidding? Can’t he just smite the lot of them, or does he leave matters in the hands of his inept underlings out of habit? If the police detective was Korea, how does he not know what a “forward position” is? The closest I’ve been to a battlefield is the tour at Gettysburg, and I know what a forward position is. Why does He-Man, a hero defined by his manliess and swordsmanship, insist on constantly using frickin’ laser beams? I don’t recall his action figure ever having a gun as an accessory. And what purpose does Gwildor serve, other than to be annoying in just about everything he does?

Courtesy Cannon Pictures
“Evil-Lyn! Bring me the Golden Headdress of Wang! I have a party to attend!”

Courtesy Cannon Pictures
“… My lord, I’m afraid He-Man’s stupidity may be catching.”

The fight coordination is awful, the dialogue is trite, the special effects are painted on, the connection to its source is as intangible as its narrative structure and its utter dedication to its sincerity makes the entire experience excruciatingly painful. G.I. Joe, Revenge of the Fallen, hell, even the original 80s animated Transformers was better than this. This is just… sickeningly bad. There are very few movies that I’ve loathed utterly when watching it. In that scene towards the end of Toy Story 3 – those of you who’ve seen it know the one I mean – I can only hope that somewhere in that pile of about-to-incinerate garbage is a master copy of Masters of the Universe burning masterfully. It languishes in dark obscurity in places like Netflix, and if you have any decent taste in movies, that’s where it’ll stay.

Too good for it, I say!

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Demolition Man

This week’s IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! brought to you by a generous donation by Maggie Carroll. Thank you for your support!

Logo courtesy Netflix.  No logos were harmed in the creation of this banner.

[audio:http://www.blueinkalchemy.com/uploads/demoman.mp3]

Let’s face it. If you’re over a certain age, you’re going to look back on past years more favorably than you do on the present. Food tasted better, games were more enjoyable, and movies didn’t suck as much. It’s a little thing called ‘nostalgia,’ and it can color criticism of things we experienced as we grew up. If you’re aware of this, you can push past those feelings of affection and avoid sounding like an unprofessional commentator stuck in a bygone time, much like the protagonist in Demolition Man. Eerily, as time goes on, the movie itself seems like a relic of the past.

Courtesy Warner Bros Pictures

The movie opens in 1996 Los Angeles where two very transparently named characters do battle. Police detective John Spartan tracks his arch-nemesis Simon Phoenix to an embattled warehouse and takes the bad guy down. In doing so, he is the unwitting cause of some civilian deaths and put on ice. Literally. The new cryogenic prison is tested on these two, with Spartan eligible for parole in 40 years while Phoenix is put away for life. Fast forward to 2032, and the coastal cities of California have been conglomerated under the direction of Doctor Raymond Cocteau, who has brought order out of anarchy through some benevolent social engineering that’s outlawed things like violence, “physical fluid exchange”, bad language and spicy food. Phoenix escapes his parole hearing into this sunshiny society, which is seeking to stamp out elements that enjoy eating meat, spraying graffiti and thinking for themselves. To stop the sudden rampage of violent murders, the ill-equipped and pseudo-intellectual police thaw out John Spartan. After all, sometimes you have send a maniac to catch a maniac.

I have to say that, while heavy-handed and sometimes coming off as a parody, the two futures presented by this 1993 film are equally bleak. It shows a 1996 LA torn apart by gang warfare, with fires, looting and anti-aircraft guns everywhere. The police have to roll into war zones with armored vehicles and riot weaponry. By contrast, 2032 San Angeles is the sort of clean, perfect society filled with nice, loquacious people that would give Aldous Huxley nightmares. Everybody is ‘low-jacked’ as one character puts it, nobody swears or commits violent crimes and people have food, shelter and comforts as long as they obey by the strict rules laid down by the good doctor in charge of it all. Since violence and crime itself are very nearly foreign concepts, the introduction of a gleeful killing machine like Simon Phoenix quickly flushes the place down the toilet.

Courtesy Warner Bros Pictures
It says something when Sly plays the more interesting character in the lead duo.

If it weren’t for the the whole “man out of time” angle, this Stallone action flick would be pretty generic. The bad guy chews through scenery and police officers who aren’t the hero with ease while the good guys never get shot by anybody without a name. It’s only the world of San Angeles and the reactions of Spartan and Phoenix to it that make this watchable. In particular, Stallone does a good job of conveying the discomfort, frustration and even loneliness of a driven, smarter-than-he-looks supercop thrust into a world where his violence is abhorred, his one-liners are chided and his approach towards women is considered repugnant. They also tried to turn him into a seamstress. It’d be horrifying if it weren’t so damn funny.

Speaking of funny, one of the best parts of this movie is Wesley Snipes cutting loose. You may think from the Blade movies that Snipes has no emotional range whatsoever. Not true. Simon Phoenix is a sadistic, wise-cracking, genre savvy madman, and his manic energy really fuels the narrative. The film actually seems to dim a bit when he’s not on-screen. Other elements do buoy the story and keep it moving when he’s not around, but when he’s on he’s having so much fun that it’s hard not to crack a smile. That page that will ruin your life describes him as “a Hip-Hop Joker.” I can’t think of a more spot-on description.

Courtesy Warner Bros Pictures
You can’t be taken seriously with that hairdo unless you kill every cracker you see.

The supporting cast is a mixed bag. Sandra Bullock’s character attempts to be endearing but can really start to grate on the nerves. Most of the other ‘proper’ San Angelenos have this pseudo-intellectual smugness that give the Architect from The Matrix a run for his money. There’s so much jargon and multi-syllable words spewing from these sanctimonious dorks that I for one am happy when things start blowing up. On the other hand, Denis Leary doesn’t so much play a character as he does himself if he were dropped into this world. That is to say, he starts messing shit up immediately. There’s even a rant heavily influenced by his “Asshole” song. It’s really nice to hear after an hour of future folk referring to everybody by their full names. At all times.

The movie holds together for most of its running time but there’s a point at which things kind of come undone. By the way, spoiler warning. So, Doctor Cocteau engineered this society to be free of crime and violence and everybody loves him because he saved them. Yet, he is the one who introduces Simon Phoenix into it, not just to hunt down Denis Leary, but to cause anarchy and chaos so he can rebuild the society. Again. In other words, he developed a utopia just so he could destroy it and build another utopia. For a good hour it seems like Cocteau is actually close to having a society free of irritants and yet he lets loose the biggest irritant of all. He easily could have kept Phoenix on a shorter leash and focused on the assassination rather than letting him run wild in San Angeles doing whatever the hell he wanted. For a character meant to be something of an evil mastermind, this strikes me as really, really stupid.

Courtesy Warner Bros Pictures
Maybe next time you’ll think your clever plan though, doc.

Demolition Man has some good things going for it. The best parts of the relationship between Joker and the Batman are extant between Simon Phoenix and John Spartan. Seeing these two action movie types in the setting of a defanged world is fun, as is the way they crap all over it – literally at one point, in the case of Spartan. But at the end of the day, it’s difficult for me to recommend the movie. There are better, smarter action comedies out there. I have to say, though, that seeing a big, beefy guy like Sylverster Stallone picking up a ball of yarn and wondering how the hell he knows what a zipperfoot and a bobbin are is pretty much worth the price of admission. It’s an interesting relic of the early ’90s, and every once in a while you can call it up on Netflix to indulge that feeling of nostalgia I mentioned, but as a rule, this movie’s best when treated like Simon Phoenix: for your safety and the safety of others, keep it on ice. If you want to introduce a little fun chaos and anarchy, thaw it out. But please, for the love of God, do not let it thaw out any of its friends. You’ve been warned.

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Black Book

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This review marks the one year anniversary of ICFN’s podcast component, and to celebrate this, uh, monumental occasion, this review is being written and voiced by me, Danielle, aka that wife Josh always talks about. You’ll probably notice some stylistic differences between the two of us, too, so try not to get your panties in a twist when I’m not as polite as he is. Fair warning.

Anyway, I had originally wanted to do something old and loved that I haven’t seen before, so I could shit all over everyone’s nostalgia because, let’s face it, most cult classics are pretty terrible. However, we’d already watched Black Book before Josh thought to tell me this was the one year episode so here I am, reviewing yet another fucking World War II movie. Yay.

Courtesy Fu Works

Now, I love World War II. I own a collection of books on the subject. Schindler’s List is the best movie that ever has been — and probably ever will be — made. Reich 5 is one of my favourite of the Infinite Worlds. So when even I am so fucking sick of this shit that we put off watching this movie for like a month and a half, you know it’s bad. Josh only picked this one up because MovieBob recommended it in some review or other, which made me even more skeptical, as he and I seem to either really agree or really disagree on most movies. But we’d put it off long enough and we needed to watch it for Netflix to send us anything else, so we finally bit the bullet and now, here we are.

The movie opens in ’50s Israel, where we meet two women – Ronnie Nolastnamegiven, a tourist, and Rachel Stein, a schoolteacher. They happened to be friends from Holland who haven’t seen each other since the war. After doing some catching up, Rachel, played by the very lovely Carice van Houten, goes off to contemplate how they met and how she ended up in Israel, and the movie starts for real this time. It’s nearly the end of the war, but that hardly makes things better for Rachel, who’s hiding place was just blown up and is now trying to flee the country. Needless to say, shit goes pear-shaped and after everyone she ever knew or loved is murdered by Nazis she joins the Resistance. If you’re starting to think she’d make a good JRPG protagonist, you’re not alone.

Courtesy Fu Works

From there on out, it’s pretty much your standard World War II spy movie. Stein is a woman, so obviously she can’t fight, and instead seduces a Nazi officer, but of course she falls in love with him, and someone is selling their group out but they don’t know who, blah blah blah… There are more twists than you can count on one hand and only one is at all surprising, but even that takes forever to get to and forever to resolve. Having the movie go on for so long after the war ended was a mistake. At one point of hilarious self-awareness, van Houten sobs “Will it never stop?!” I was wondering that myself.

Given the pretty unoriginal premise, the film relies almost completely on the actors’ performances, which are admittedly great pretty much across the board. One scene with Theo, played by Johnny de Mol, was absolutely ridiculous and just made me laugh, but I don’t know if that was the actor or the retarded dialogue he was being made to spew forth. All of the characters except Stein, Müntze and Akkermans are pretty much impossible to feel any sort of empathy for because they’re vehicles for World War II drama archetypes, not actual people, and even those main three aren’t too interesting.

Courtesy Fu Works

So, should you put Black Book on your Netflix queue? If you’re looking for a solid period drama, Schindler’s List is better. If you just want to see Nazis getting killed, you’ll be sorely disappointed, and should just queue up Inglorious Basterds and its loose interpretation of historical accuracy. If you want to see Carice van Houten whip her tits out with alarming frequency, you could do a lot worse than Black Book. But really, just do a Google search for screenshots. There are plenty, trust me. … Ahem.

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Pandorum

Logo courtesy Netflix.  No logos were harmed in the creation of this banner.

[audio:http://www.blueinkalchemy.com/uploads/pandorum.mp3]

I am loathe to admit this, but I’ve made it a point in my writing and especially this series not to be disingenuous in my assertions. That’s a good way to get punched in the face. So here it is: I don’t like spook houses. Those standalone buildings in carnivals, fairs and amusement parts where part-timers are paid to jump out of closets at you? Yeah. Not really my scene. I don’t consider it horrific when I get startled. It’s just annoying. Around this time last year when Pandorum was out I didn’t really pay much attention to it, half-expecting it to be a jump-out scarefest dressed up as a high-concept sci-fi horror flick. This is one of those times when I’m pretty happy to admit I was wrong.

Courtesy Constantin Films

The Elysium is a spacecraft carrying thousands of colonists and biological samples for the settlement of the distant Earth-like planet of Tanis. Earth has just about run out of room and resources. While humanity suffocates on its own wastefulness and hubris, the Elysium‘s passengers are kept in deep cryogenic sleep for their 123-year journey with the promise that they’ll save anybody left behind. When Corporal Bowers wakes up for his shift, however, there are immediate problems. He’s been out long enough to lose parts of his memory. His ship is dying, its reactor core malfunctioning and its navigational systems unable to tell him where they are. His superior officer, Lieutenant Payton, has a similar memory problem when he wakes up. As Bower heads for the reactor to fix the ship and Peyton acts as mission control at the one working console, two things become apparent very quickly: The officers are not alone aboard the Elysium, and one or both of them are suffering from a mental condition similar to nitrogen narcosis related to extended cryogenic sleep – a condition they call Pandorum.

Do you have a feeling you know where this is going? If not, maybe you should consider watching more movies. Specifically, you need to check out Alien, The Descent and Event Horizon, because those are movies that at best inspired Pandorum and at worst were victims of a blatant idea mugging at its hands. Players of System Shock 2 or Dead Space will feel right at home as well. On the surface, there isn’t much about the concept, narrative through-line or inevitable “twist” moments that haven’t been seen, experienced or lampshaded before. But that’s a general overview and maybe a little unfair. The devil, as they say, is in the details.

Courtesy Constantin Films
It’s a shame more PhDs aren’t this badass. Or this hot.

It’s been said that as soon as you fill your spaceship with metal grating floors devoid of carpeting and lights that flicker on and off, your protagonists might as well use marinade for a shampoo. However, in the case of Pandorum, the set design is a big part of the atmosphere. This ship is old, with limited power and even more limited resources. Instead of dropping beefy space marines or even powered armor the protagonists have to learn to use into the situation, our heroes have little more than their clothes on their backs and whatever improvised weapons they can lay their hands on. I never said borrowing from Alien was a bad thing, after all. We’re pulled into the story and feeling the dread and claustrophobia of Bower long before we see our first creature.

Speaking of which, this was the second work of Stan Winston’s legendary creature shop after the mastermind’s untimely passing. The first was G.I. Joe – the less said about that the better. Anyway, I might have appreciated the psuedo-tribal designs and creepiness more if I’d gotten better looks at these things, however the camera moves so damn much whenever they’re around that it’s really difficult to do so. Giving fleeting glimpses of a monster instead of showing us what we’re in for is good as a rule. It’s why the original Predator works on a level that neither Aliens vs. Predator movie comes close to reaching. But the more Pandorum goes on, the more it feels the film crew shot it this way after getting drunk and deciding emulating Michael Bay’s camera work was a great idea for their fight scenes.

Courtesy Constantin Films
I don’t think Dennis wants to be reminded of G.I. Joe, either.

Another problem this movie has is in sound design. Now, the soundtrack of Pandorum isn’t all that bad, at least to my ears but then again I’m a sucker for tribal drums in my sci-fi, e.g. Bear McCreary’s kickass music for Battlestar Galactica. And the screams of the creatures are fine, creaking bulkheads, visceral tearing noises, etc. The problem I had was with the level of dialog. With so much else going on it’s really easy to lose lines or entire exchanges as they’re frantically whispered between the survivors. I understood that being quiet was necessary for survival in most of the open areas of the ship, but some scenes were very difficult for me to follow in terms of dialog. Then again, this might be the fault of watching this via the Netflix Instant service in a room right next to a busy intersection.

There are a lot of minor flaws in the overall movie that would cripple the entire project if there weren’t good things holding them up. Beyond the set design and lighting, we have a pace that gradually builds the tension and is in no rush to get to the bottom of the mysteries, opting instead to keep the action moving and build the characters. Par for the course considering this somewhat derivative material, the characters we get aren’t really all that deep or unique. However, what I like about them is that none of them are beefy macho space marines. The obligatory knife-twirling action babe began life as a geneticist and her stoic, large spear-wielding guardian was a farmer. These are normal people that managed to survive in extraordinary circumstances. The closest we come to military characters are Payton and Bower. And while Bower does some of the heavy lifting action-wise, he’s not exactly the Emperor’s Finest.

Courtesy Constantin Films
Bower and the film’s only ray gun.

This is a good thing, though. It’s one of the best things Pandorum has going for it. Ben Foster as Bower does just about everything right in ways that invoke pleasant memories of Bruce Willis playing John McClaine in Die Hard. He and the other survivors demonstrate good instincts and decent cognitive skills, for the most part. There’s only one point at which an audience might yell at the screen at a character for making a bad decision. I’ve always liked Ben Foster, from his funny and touching turn as Spacker Dave in The Punisher to his unhinged second gun to Russell Crowe in 3:10 To Yuma. Seeing him take the lead here is a very pleasant experience, and as much as Bower might be just an engineer and not cut out for combat or extreme survival, there is a scene in which my jaw was hanging open – not at the visuals, not at the viscera, but merely at the demonstration of an everyday guy having some big, brass balls.

It’s nowhere near a perfect movie. In terms of sci-fi horror, Alien has nothing to worry about. Pandorum is saved from failure by surprisingly decent writing and acting, excellent set design and a premise that assumes the audience is smart enough to follow along without needing things explicitly spelled out every step of the way. They just seem to forget that we’ve seen other movies before, meaning we’ve seen some of these elements before as well. If Pandorum were a baked concoction, you’d throw together equal parts Alien, The Descent and Titan AE, dash it with a little Dead Space and frost it with Event Horizon after it’s done baking. The result probably isn’t all that good for you and you’ll have tasted better, but that doesn’t stop this particular little experiment from tasting pretty damn good.

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

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