All posts by Jason Sacks

Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[April 18, 1968] "You Damn Dirty Apes!" (Planet of the Apes)

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by Jason Sacks

Planet of the Apes is already one of the most talked-about films of 1968. My friends have been buzzing about this movie since it was first announced, and now that it’s appeared Apes is certain to dominate all the chatter until Mr. Kubrick delivers his long-promised science fiction film.

A lot of the conversation has been about the ending of this film. I can’t talk about Planet of the Apes without revealing the incredible climax ending in this review, so if you want the twist to be fresh to you, you will want to turn the page around paragraph twelve of this review.  You have been warned!

As you probably know, the movie stars Charlton Heston as George Taylor, an astronaut who journeys with his four compatriots to an alien planet via a deep sleep device. One companion dies along the way, so Taylor and his remaining pals journey across a desert. For three days (and thirty minutes of screen time), Taylor and his friends wander like Moses and the Jews across a desolate desert. Unlike wandering tribes of Israel, the astronauts eventually discover an oasis. This verdant area is beautiful and welcoming and perfect for a skinny dip. It’s also the absolute worst place they can end up.

After their spaceship crash lands in a lake, the astronauts have to flee and try to find civilization.

See, the astronauts' clothes get stolen and then the visitors become witness to an incredible tableau. It seems there are many living humanoids on this planet. They look like humans, in fact. They are dressed in rags, running around like savages, terrified of something even stranger.

The Apes rounding up humans as if people are mere animals.

What sparks their fear is something even more uncanny. What sparks their fear as gorillas. Riding horses. Attacking the humans, and slaughtering them like a big game hunter might hunt gorillas in Africa in our world. The apes are clearly the dominant species on this world. We witness the slaughter of hundreds of humans under the apes’ vicious attack. One of Taylor’s companions is killed in the massacre, while Taylor’s vocal chords are damaged by an ape rifle. Taylor is tied hands and feet, and brought to a very odd sort of jail.

The brutal aftermath of the hunt is reminiscent of the American colonization of the West

Amazingly, it’s a bespoke sort of jail, in which various ape species come to perform experiments on the humans. Scientist apes Cornelius (Roddy McDowell) and Zira (Kim Hunter) are amazing in their portrayals of these oddly humanlike creatures, full of empathy and confusion about Taylor and yet also a deep commitment to their own ape world. The script nicely walks a fine line with these characters.

The story squarely embeds Cornelius and Zira in the middle of this fictional world, explicitly having them react as members of their society first and foremost. Our hirusite leads react as apes with moral codes and professional ethics and wow is this a wonderful breath of fresh air compared with the way most science fiction movies portray societies.

"Take your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape!"

I’ll move away from this plot summary, at least for the moment (gotta talk about the astonishing ending!) because I must make sure I discuss the many other ways this movie stands out.

First and foremost, Planet of the Apes is a fun movie. It’s full of action and twists and surprises. The crowd at the Northgate Theatre seemed on the edge of their seats the entire time as we watched this film, and the buzz at exit was full of joy.

This scene directly alludes to history and traditions inside ape world. How many science fiction movies build such a complex world?

Which implies the film had a great script. Rod Serling of The Twilight Zone wrote the initial outline, but Michael Wilson completed it. Wilson has previously worked on the David Lean films Bridge Over the River Kwai and Lawrence of Arabia, and he brings this film a similar combination of epic feel and personal intimacy we get in those films. Specifically, he creates a complex and fascinating society for the apes. This society has a history, and a religion, and social castes, and even mythologies they’ve created. All of it feels smartly earned, based on how I would imagine an ape society would be constructed, and I keep finding myself pondering this world.

One of my favorite magazines has a great article this month about the makeup required to turn Roddy McDowell into a chimpanzee.

One of the most important things about Apes has been receiving a lot of buzz in Famous Monsters and other recent zines: The makeup in this movie is amazing. I know there’s no Academy Award for best makeup, but the category should be reinstated just for this film. I was initially skeptical about the design of these characters going into the movie, but Dan Striepeke and his crew at Fox deliver an amazing design.

Franklin J. Schaffner directs the film. I’m not familiar with any of his recent work, but I know he directed Heston in The War Lord, and it’s obvious their previous project built some tremendous trust between the men. The direction is solid, professional and not showy. I’ve been pondering what Kubrick might be showing us in his sci-fi film, and I’m sure it will be much slicker and showier than Schaffner’s work here.

Leon Shamroy’s cinematography delivers in every scene, whether the gorgeous vistas of the American desert, the weird interiors of the Apes’ abodes, or the claustrophobic cages. Jerry Goldsmith’s atonal music adds so much to the story being told, and the set design work by Walter M. Scott and Norman Rockett really brings this world to life.

Tailor is paired up in a cell with Linda Harrison (Nova), a primitive, mute woman.

Okay, okay, yeah this movie is fantastic. It’s full of some thrilling and hilarious moments. Heston screaming “get away from me you damn dirty apes” is already starting to enter our lexicon. Sock it to me!

But the biggest reason everybody seems to leave this film giggling, the “Frankly, Scarlett, I don’t give a damn!” or “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship!” moment which will go down in history, is that awesome tableau at the very end. Schaffner films the sequence perfectly. Taylor and his female companion Nova are riding a horse on a beach. We think they’re still on an alien world as the camera zooms up. We see a triangle on the edge of the screen, we witeness a pull back, and at last we get a stunning image and a powerful primal scream of anger from Heston…

"Oh my God. I'm back. I'm home. All the time, it was… We finally really did it. You maniacs! You blew it up! Ah, damn you! God damn you all to hell!"

Ohh yeah! If you’re not smiling thinking about this ending, you saw a different movie than I did.

This is clearly the best science fiction movie of the year so far. I don’t know much about what Stanley Kubrick has planned, but this odyssey to the Planet of the Apes is stunning.

5 stars.




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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[July 16, 1967] The Weird and the Surprising (July 1967 Galactoscope)

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by Jason Sacks

Philip K. Dick has a new novel out. And guess what, it’s very strange. Are you shocked?

The Ganymede Takeover, by Philip K. Dick & Ray Nelson

The space slugs have taken over the Earth.

Those slugs come from the distant planet Ganymede. Earth is their first invasion target ever. But they have ambitions. The Ganymedeans have managed to conquer and occupy our planet. However, the slugs are failing at their third objective: to absorb the people of Earth as their servants.

Resistance is strong in at least one area of the planet: the Bale of Tennessee. There, he will have to fight the Neegs, who are led by a violent revolutionary named Percy X. The dreaded assignment of conquering that area goes to Mekkis, an insecure slug whose fortune bodes poorly.

Mekkis and his fellow conquerors have one great weapon at hand they can use to defeat the humans. A human, the neurotic Dr. Baldani, condemned as quisling, has developed a reality distortion bomb, which can destroy all of humanity. But will he allow that weapon to be used?

The Ganymede Invasion, a rare collaboration between Philip K. Dick and Ray Nelson, is dense as hell and weird as hell. Dick and Nelson make a pretty good team. Nelson smooths out Dick while Dick makes Nelson weird. Their San Francisco writers’ workshop friends must love the stories the pair creates

The esteemed Mr. Nelson

Truth be told, I missed Dick’s wild randomness at times; I was genuinely shocked that nearly all the elements introduced in the first chapter resolve by the end! Meanwhile, Nelson pushed Dick to go even further with his usual psychedelia, with references to supermarket carts with submachine guns and to vorpal meat cleavers, among many other stunning images. It’s the Summer of Love and this book came from the San Francisco area, so how can you ask for anything timelier?

The Black Panthers at the California state capitol, earlier this year

Percy X is the most intriguing character in the novel. Percy can be seen as an analog to Malcolm X, which would make the Neegs the equivalent of the Black Panther Party. Or he can be seen as a reflection of Perseus, the Greek legend who slayed monsters and came to found the republic of Mycenae. Either interpretation would fit this story. Percy is a crusader, a fighter against the literal monsters of the Ganymedeans and is a true hero. Heck, the name Ganymede implies a reference to Medea.

Philip K. Dick, Nancy Dick, and Robert Silverberg conversing in lobby, Baycon

I haven’t discussed the sentient hotel rooms or talking, neurotic taxi cabs or even a key Quisling type character in the book. There’s just too much to cover in a review like this and I want you to be surprised by what you read.

 The Ganymede Invasion isn’t great Dick, but it is hugely entertaining. And like nearly every novel by PKD, Ganymede is a short quick read. I recommend this oddball collaboration.

3 stars.


by Gideon Marcus

I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream, by Harlan Ellison

The third collection of Ellison stories contains the now-typical set of introductions which folks often like as much as the stories they precede. It's a thin volume, with just seven pieces, and it suffers for being less tonally nuanced than the prior two collections. The subject is pain, Harlan's personal pain, and while I'm sure the tales were cathartic to write for him, by the end, they all start to sound like Harlan kvetching to us over a Shirley Temple at around 3am.

Not that they're bad–Harlan is a gifted author–but they are somewhat one-note and unsubtle. To wit:

  1. I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream: The last five humans are trapped in the bowels of the sapient computer who hates and torments them. This is the unexpurgated version of the story that appeared in IF a few months prior, with less veiled references to homosexuality and genitalia.

    It's a raw, powerful piece. Four stars.

  2. Big Sam was My Friend: An interstellar carnival makes a stop on a planet with a tradition of human sacrifice. Big Sam, the circus strong man, can't let them go through with it…with disastrous results. Interesting more for the detail than the events.

    Three stars.

  3. Eyes of Dust: On a world devoted to and obsessed with personal beauty, can deformity be tolerated? Be careful – perfection may need imperfection to exist!
     
    Another passionate story, but somehow forgettable. Three stars.
     
  4. World of the Myth: Three astronauts are stranded on a planet: a cruel but charismatic man, the woman who loves him, and the nice fellow who loves the woman. They meet a race of telepathic ants, conversation with whom reveals the true nature of the parties communicating. Can the astronauts stand that knowledge?
     
    It's a neat setup, but a rather prosaic story. Three stars.

    5.  

  5. Lonelyache: A widower is tormented by dreams in which he is hounded by assassins, forced to dispatch them in the most brutal of fashions. Gradually, the man becomes aware that there is an inchoate…something…sharing his apartment, feeding on his unhappiness. Can he escape its thrall before it's too late?
     
    The story with the most Harlan-esque voice. Three stars.

    6.  

  6. Delusion for a Dragon Slayer: To all respects, Warren Glazer Griffin was the milquetoastiest of milquetoasts. But when he died in a freak accident, he was allowed to live an afterlife fantasy in which he indulged all of his suppressed depravities. The result isn't pretty.
     
    Three stars.

    7.  

  7. Pretty Maggie Moneyes: Inspired by a true encounter (and with the best introduction of the collection), this is the tale of the woman who sold her soul for comfort, lost it permanently to a slot machine, and resorted to desperate measures to get free.

With the intro, I give it four stars.

For the collection, 3.5 stars.


by Robin Rose Graves

City of Illusions by Ursula K. Le Guin

An amnesiac narrator on a planet of liars. Le Guin takes us far into Earth’s future where humanity has regressed under the domination of a group of aliens called the Shing.

Our main character is Falk, who looks almost human except for his slitted yellow eyes. He wakes up in the forest with no memory of where he came from and mentally reduced back to the mind of a baby. Falk is taken in by a family and rehabilitated, all the while learning their culture, which fears the Shing who now control Earth and hinder civilization from developing to be any larger than scattered small groups of people across the planet. The Shing are most notable for being liars, something Falk is warned about throughout the book. However, in order to reclaim the answers that were stolen from him, Falk must leave the family and seek out the Shing.

The book drags during the first 80 pages as Falk travels alone through nature. This part serves well to relay the isolation of his journey and to show the effect the Shing’s presence has on Earth’s development. However, overall nothing of great significance happens in this part of the book.

Once Falk gets captured by a hostile group of humans, he meets a slave woman named Strella with whom he plots his escape in exchange for her guiding him to the Shing. Here the book becomes interesting, particularly when something Strella says suggests that the reason Falk has been stripped of his memory might be because that is how the Shing punish criminals. It made me wonder if Falk is really the good guy after all.

However, it isn’t until Falk reaches the City of Illusion that the story reaches its full potential and lives up to its name, as deceptions are uncovered and more information is revealed to Falk, who doesn't know what is true and what is false – including everything he has experienced up until this point. He’s unable to trust the Shing and unsure if they have ulterior motives. I had a lot of fun reading these chapters. Something would be revealed only to be quickly disproved and it made for an exciting read where I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next because I barely knew what the truth was – much like the hero.

The end chapters redeem the slow beginning. For a small world, Le Guin well establishes Earth as something distant and foreign to a modern reader. The plot exercises the brain and leaves the reader in suspense. However, this book is far longer than it needed to be. For 160 pages long, the first 80 pages are particularly empty and I think Le Guin could have achieved the same story by cutting out half the words.

I enjoyed this book, but it failed to impress. 3 stars.

The Strength to Dream


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Colin Wilson
The Young Philosopher himself

There have been many surprising entries into SF writing, but perhaps none more so than Colin Wilson taking on H. P. Lovecraft.

Covers for Colin Wilson's The Outsider and Introduction to the New Existentialism

Best known as a philosopher, Colin Wilson received great acclaim for his first book The Outsider and continues to be successful in this arena, including last year’s Introduction to The New Existentialism.

Covers to Colin Wilson's Fiction novels Ritual in the Dark and the Glass Cage

He has also attempted to express some of his ideas in popular crime fiction, such as Ritual in the Dark and The Glass Cage.

Neither of these avenues lead directly to science fiction, let alone Lovecraft. So how did it happen?

Apparently, Wilson is a fan of the concepts of Lovecraft and had written an essay saying so but expressing distaste for his actual prose. August Derleth saw this and wrote to Wilson suggesting he write his own book on these themes.

The result is The Mind Parasites, what could be described as Post-Lovecraftian. An optimistic existentialist new-wave cosmic horror, which is likely to either impress or appall the reader!

The Mind Parasites by Colin Wilson

The story starts in 1997, with Dr. Austin learning of the suicide of his friend and colleague Dr. Weissman. The news unsettles him, but the world suicide rate has been increasing over the decades and is in fact a major concern of many people. Delving into his papers, Austin discovers Weissman had been experimenting with ways of expanding his consciousness but became fearful of an evil presence.

At the same time Dr. Austin is working on a dig in Turkey. They discover a remarkable Proto-Hattian settlement where the inhabitants worship “Aboth the Unclean” and have massive blocks of stone which should have been impossible to move in 10000 BC. The site becomes a sensation when an elderly August Derleth notes how much this mirrors the stories of writer H. P. Lovecraft.

These two facts come together to form a startling discovery: for centuries mankind has had its progress impeded by a force that feeds on our despair. The Mind Parasites!

Whilst the concepts and themes are definitely of the cosmic horror seen in 30s Weird Tales, it is also most clearly something different.

Firstly, its writing is more academic than purple prose. This story is said to be compiled from a variety of papers in the early 21st century, explaining the unusual world events in the early 1990s. The fact that it is being told from the future provides an explanation for the style and shows the author giving real consideration to the context.

Secondly, in keeping with Wilson’s “New Existentialist” ideals, the characters are not simply the victims of ideas too big to grasp. Instead this is an ode to the limitless potential of the human mind. Rather than nihilistic, the ending is optimistic and the revelation about the true nature of the titular creatures was a fascinating surprise to me.

Thirdly, and what is likely to repel some readers, is that large passages are devoted to discussion of various theories of the mind and man’s place in the universe. These sections read more like Huxley’s Heaven and Hell than an Ashton Smith fantasy. That is not to say there is not plenty of action, with scenes involving wars, ESP and space flight. But your tolerance for exploration of Wilson’s pet theories is likely to dictate your enjoyment.

Grading this on a standard scale is tough as it is so strange and experimental. So I am giving it a – very subjective – five stars!

And because we have so many books to review, we'll be having another Galactoscope in just two days! Stay tuned…



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Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[July 12, 1967] The masks we wear; the masks we must wear (the film: The Face of Another)

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by Jason Sacks

Over the last five years or so, there has been a renaissance of movies which take science fiction concepts and turn them into fine — and often obscure — film art. For instance The brilliant Agnès Varda, perhaps best known for her amazing 1962 film Cléo from 5 to 7, used a kind of Island of Dr. Moreau motif for her film The Creatures (released in 1966). That film starts with a car accident and becomes a meditation on the way reality is changed by  fiction.

Similarly, the equally brilliant Alain Resnais used the idea of limbo to emphasize the strange, surrealistic lives of the characters in his much-loved (and much-despised) philosophic meditation Last Year at Marienbad. 

And anyone who saw Gennadi Kazansky and Vladimir Chebotaryov's charming 1962 film Amphibian Man couldn't prevent themselves from being caught up in the literal fish-out-of-water elements of that most magical and fascinating film.

Teshigahara-san

The Face of the Creator

But the master of this mini movement (if there is such a movement) is Japanese director Hiroshi Teshigahara.

Teshigahara came to many American viewers and critics' attention with 1962's The Pitfall, a strikingly nonlinear semi-noir documentary fantasy (and yes it is all of that); the film shows the director's vast scope of vision and deep curiousity about the complexity of human nature.

Two years later he delivered The Woman in the Dunes, the film which truly won Teshigahara his international reputation. It won the Special Jury Prize at Cannes, and it was nominated for the Best Foreign Film Award by the Academy Awards folks.  It's an astonishing work of film art, one of the finer films of the 1960s thus far. It also is haunting on several different levels.

Both Pitfall and Dunes are adapted by novels by the beloved avant-garde novelist Kobo Abe, winner of the Akutagawa Prize and Yomiuri Prize, among many other awards. Apparently Abe's writing style is often labyrinthine, vivid and sensuous in its original Japanese. That style has to be seductive for an ambitous director, and with his success with these two films, now Teshigahara has taken on another Abe film.

The Face of Another uses the idea of a facial transplant to explore the nature of identity, human connection, and the impact of the atomic bomb. At the same time it possesses a stunning visual style which will likely be studied for decades (and which will only be touched on briefly in this essay).

All of this makes for a heady mix, beautifully delivered on screen. The film is often obscure, looks beautiful and is well worth checking out in your local art cinema.

Let me tell you a little more about it.

The Face of Another

One thing I was struck by in watching this movie was in how much it echoes. There is a lot of Frankenstein in here – both Shelley and Karloff versions. It also echoes The Beast With Five Fingers and last year's Seconds, and definitely a lot of French New Wave cinema and even that episode of The Avengers in which the villains traded minds with Steed and Mrs. Peel. Face is original, sometimes radically original. Yet it stands on the shoulders of giants as well.

The movie follows two parallel plots. In the primary plot, a businessman named Okuyama has had his face damaged in a major industrial accident. Forced to live life with a full-face mask, he is horrified and even sadly bemused by peoples' reactions to him. No matter if it's his wife or a stranger, everyone is cold and unemotional to him. His lack of a face has imposed a deep outsider feeling on him. Okuyama is profoundly alone.

Our businessman is bereft, forgotten even by his own wife. Only a young girl with impaired intellectual abilities actually sees and reacts to Okuyma as his own self. Like the Invisible Man, he's an id in bandages, lost and empty. It's the impact of his injuries that matters rather than the injury itself.

In the second plot, a young (unnamed) woman has scars over half of her face. It's implied she got those burns during the atomic bombing of Nagasaki. Unlike Okuyama, the woman does not bandage herself, simply covering that side of her face with her hair and handling her pain with some grace.

Okuyama persuades his doctor to create a mask which will allow the bandaged man to look human and have some semblance of a normal life. He believes the mask will be seamless. It will allow him to pass himself off as normal person different than the man he was before.

He can become a new version of himself. And the first thing he does with his new freedom is… go to his old office and see if any of his former coworkers recognize him as their old compatriot (they don't). The second thing he does is even more banal. Frustrated beyond reason at his wife's indifference to him when bandaged, Okuyama decides to try to seduce his wife while wearing his new face. Yes, he's trying to make his wife an adulteress by sleeping with her.

Bizarre.

It's all as bizarre as the conversations Okuyama and the doctor have throughout different Osaka settings, including an odd German bar and the magnificent doctor's office.

Meanwhile, the girl is simply still wandering her life, unmoored and unrooted. Though she is spending much of her time with her brother who loves her (he may love her too much), she is alone. As with Okuyama, people recoil upon seeing her. Unlike with Okuyama, her injuries are more than just symbolic of a single man. Her injuries are a symbol of national guilt. And therefore she is simply more repulsive to the ordinary Japanese person.

I don't want to reveal the secret of how either of these powerful plotlines end — and in fact both endings are powerful.

Now that I've hopefully intrigued you with an idea of what makes the plot so great, let me talk about how great this film looks.

Looking at the Face

For all the praise Teshigahara deserves for his film, we all know a film can never be an individual effort (go ahead, Cahiers du Cinéma, prove me wrong!).

So let me first praise the cinematography of Hiroshi Segawa. His work here is simply extraordinary. The scenes at the doctor's office are symbolic and rich in meaning, not so much a setting as the implication of a setting and all the more powerful for that reason. The backgrounds symbolize all that Teshigahara is exploring in this meditative film.

Scenes on the streets or at bars are composed in beautiful framing and look sensational on screen. More importantly, they're composed in ways that allow Teshigahara to create doubling of his images (that is, the chance to use two images to echo each other).

As I've been alluding to, the production design by Masao Yamazaki is simply exquisite, a heady and head-bending approach to design that manages to both deeply root and profoundly confuse a viewer, a balancing act necessary for the film but incredibly hard to manage.

And of course I must praise our lead actors, especially Tatsuya Nakadai as Okayuma and Miki Irie as the man and woman, respectively. It's deeply impressive to see how richly Nakadai draws his character with his eyes while in his bandages, and with a deep, stiff complexity when wearing the mask. His body tells much of the story, and an attentive viewer can notice subtle physical changes which reflect his changing psychological state.

Irie's acting is equally as challenging and equally as rewarding. She's wearing a giant prosthetic and yet we feel we can easily read her emotions, hear her mood through slight voice inflections and body movements. He ultimate fate feels inevitable but not unexpected. That's a great compliment to Irie.

Looking at the Reasons Behind the Face

Teshigahara is clearly exploring many key themes here (isolation, collective guilt, and the intolerance of outsiders to name but three). I think the most intriguing explanation for this movie is to read it as a parable of the atomic bomb and the long recovery from the War.

Injury and disfigurement is common to see in Japan after the War. Even those who didn't directly experience the atomic bomb still felt the impact of the Bomb on their society. Nobody in Japan escaped those emotional scars. Our two lead characters just manifest those scars in their own particular way.

The Bomb also really and truly ended Japan's history as it had happened up to 1945. Its agrarian, peaceful traditions; its samurai code of ethics and its long and proud defiant isolation were all truly dead in their classical sense. Those were nation — and empire-affirming — concepts through the war. But those concepts were antiques, consumed by the never ending westernization of the post-war period.

Modernity was the future, tradition be damned. Ironically in a culture with a long, proud history of mask-wearing, Japanese people would be asked to put away their classic masks and don the western masks of hats and make-up worn in places like New York, London and Paris.

Furthermore, the Bomb and the subsequent westernization of Japanese society has served to isolate people by breaking down traditional societal structures and even the centrality of family. Akira Kurosawa has explored these topics as well, for instance in the sublime High and Low.

Teshigahara here takes a more symbolic approach than Kurosawa, forcing the viewer to contemplate the future that is developing. Teshigahara is unhappy about that future. The nihilistic ending of the film implies Japan is experiencing changes that might tear it apart.

Living with the Memory of the Face

Last year I raved about the John Frankenheimer film Seconds in these pages. As much as any of the other films I've discussed in this article, Seconds seems the best analogue for The Face of Another. It's a symbolic film, telling a despairing story about someone who gains a new face and goes just a bit crazy.

Both films feature brilliant black and white cinematography, fascinating lead performances, and linger long in the mind after they are done on the movie screen. I hope you didn't miss Seconds. And I hope you won't miss The Face of Another.

Four stars.



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Comics

[April 22, 1967] Make War Not Love (Comics)

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by Jason Sacks

Hello from sunny Seattle, where spring has sprung, the rain has (mostly) stopped, cherry blossoms are on the trees at the U-Dub, and Don & the Goodtimes are topping our city's pop charts.

https://youtu.be/h23867MzHeQ

My friends and I love hearing that wonderful local pop ditty on Kolorful KOL Radio while driving in his Corvair. Most often we wander down to the Spanish Castle, down in south King County (past my beloved Sicks' Stadium where the Seattle Angels play). At the Spanish Castle we get to watch some amazing pop, funk and jazz musicians deliver performances to warm us up on Seattle's rainy nights.  Local standbys The Wailers, The Kingsmen and a very talented young man named Jimmy Hendrix have played there.  Remember the name 'Hendrix'. According to rumors, he's keeping busy in England these days and may be working on a full album. My friends and I hope our local boy makes good.

But from one type of entertainment to another… It's been about a year since I talked in Galactic Journey about the state of American comic books. This seems like the perfect opportunity to give you an update on some changes I would never have expected.

In fact, before I dig into super-hero comics, I want to look at two genres of comics the fans seldom seem to notice: war comics and love comics. Yeah, neither genre has costumed heroes, but both are fascinating here in 1967.

Make War (Comics) No More?

National dominates war comics, while its closest competitor, Charlton, is frankly pathetic. Where is Marvel in the list? Well,  Marvel still publishes Sgt. Fury and his Howling Commandos, but that comic has much to do with life in the army as Gomer Pyle, USMC does. Fury's style of goofy heroism may be a good read for the kiddies but it's too shallow for anyone over the age of 12. Anyone who is fascinated by the horrors and passions of war should read the good stuff.

Our Army at War is the flagship title of National's war comics line. This series stars Sgt. Rock and the combat-happy Joes of Easy Company. For several years now, writer Robert Kanigher has teamed up with the incredibly talented Joe Kubert to deliver some of the finest continuing-character war comics in my memory. Each story is like an opera of violence and martial situations with tight, terse prose matched by a gorgeously intense, slashy but stolid style by Kubert.

In fact, though I've seen Kubert's work for many years – he drew "Hawkman" in the Golden Age and drew the first Flash feature in Showcase, among hundreds of other stories – Kubert's style is hard to describe. Look at the below original page (from a friend's collection) to see what I'm trying to put into words.

Look at the incredible storytelling by Kubert. The tumbling coins on the left add tension while the top three panels on the right show the misery, fear and determination in the eyes of the soldiers. Note, too, the clever way Kubert both divides and unifies the single image. That's a clever use of paradox to heighten the tension of the page. There's just nobody drawing comics like Kubert these days.

In fact, while many fans criticize DC/National frequently for having a house art style, their costumed hero books employ much more homogenization than their war titles . Perhaps  Kubert deserves some of the credit for that, as he edits many of the titles.

To a lesser extent, we see Kubert's artistic approach to the other war comics National releases. For instance, Russ Heath is the main artist on the "Hunter's Hellcats" feature in Our Fighting Forces, and Heath brings a slightly more polished but equally visceral style to its art pages. Even old-timer Irv Novick brings a looser, more unconventional style to bear with his stories of "The Losers" in G.I. Combat.

More than anything, the DC war series feature a dark, despairing tone. Readers get a real sense of the horrors of war. Though Capt. Storm or Sgt. Rock may succeed in their missions, the battles obviously take their toll on the protagonists.

I wish the same could be said for the many war comics which quirky publisher Charlton Comics releases. I should talk more about Charlton in a future column. One thing I have to discuss is how their comics are published alongside song lyric mags, crossword puzzle magazines and cereal boxes, but that's a topic for another week.

Instead, I'm here to bemoan Charlton's seemingly endless line of bland, dull war comics. Whether it's Fightin' Marines, Fightin' Army, Fightin' Navy (see a pattern?), War Heroes or Marine War Heroes, these chest-thumpin' men of action seem to never question their mission and never feel any pain from their incredible struggles. If you've ever wondered how the Pentagon would write comics intended for five-year-olds, read a Charlton war comic. I dare you.

While I'm discussing war comics, I should lament again the abrupt cancelation of Blazing Combat, Warren Publishing's often brilliant contribution to the war comics anthology genre. During its four-issue run last year, BC included sensational artwork by comics stalwarts such as Heath, Alex Toth, Gene Colan and many others. Writer Archie Goodwin told stories of wartime combat without filters, unnecessary heroism or national bias. With its ever-shifting anthology approach, Goodwin and his artists delivered stories which felt as contemporary as the Vietnam War and as timeless as the Peloponnesian War. Look, for instance, at the lovely page below drawn by the inimitable Reed Crandall.

These comics were created in black and white, published magazine sized, and often illustrated with ink wash or pointillistic techniques. For those reasons, the stories in Blazing Combat aimed higher than most comic books. Indeed, their audience was mainly adults. Tragically, that selfsame adult audience spelled doom for Blazing Combat. Reportedly publisher Jim Warren had to pull the plug on BC when PX bases across the world canceled their orders after author Goodwin penned a story critical of the war in Vietnam. Sales were too poor to sustain a money loser for long.

Make Love (Comics) No More?

I wish I could praise the many, many love comics published by National or Charlton but I sadly can't. Hey, I'm a man who likes women, I'm fond of my wife, my sister and my mother, so why can't there be comics for women which don't insult their intelligence? Sadly, neither publisher seems able to pull off that skill. This is one area Marvel hasn't plunged into in 1967; probably good news for them. (Millie the Model is more an Archie-style humor comic than a love comic, by the way.)

Once again, Charlton leads the way with garbage, flooding the newsstand with interchangable junk like Career Girl Romances, I Love You, Just Married, Teen-Age Love, Sweethearts and many more. Like the sweethearts candies you got in your fourth grade class on Valentine's Day, these comics are laced with sweetness and may put you into a coma.

The love comics from National are marginally better, at least boasting work by professional cartoonists. But their attitudes seem stuck in the Eisenhower era.

In fact, a reader should expect out-of-date attitudes. Comics like Girls' Love, Young Love and Falling in Love frequently feature reprints of comics from a decade earlier. Staff artists, modify the art to include modern hairdos or clothes. But their conformist attitudes reflect an earlier era when a girl's greatest goal was to be a housewife. It would be a bold statement for one of these comics to reflect the "free love" or hippie movements. The creators need to change with the time. Their musical beats should be attuned to the Beatles rather than Frank Sinatra.

I'd like to think there's a place for love comics in today's era. Perhaps some of the emerging group of so-called underground cartoonists can revive the genre, maybe with a twist. I know I would chortle to see a comic on the stands called Young Lust instead of Young Love.

Make Steve Ditko Comics at Marvel No More

Perhaps the biggest shock of the last year was the resignation of the brilliant Steve Ditko from Marvel Comics. Ditko, who was the prime force behind Spider-Man and Dr. Strange, apparently was engaged in a long, pitched battle with key Marvel editor/writer Stan Lee over the identity of a villain in the already-classic Master Planner saga. Ditko, who was the main plotter for the series, wanted to follow one direction for a character reveal. Lee disagreed and apparently that latest disagreement was the metaphorical last straw.

It's a shame because Ditko was reaching his apex on both series at the time this incident happened. Spider-Man was achieving new levels of bathos and power and was a solid, constantly interesting series.

Ditko's work on Dr. Strange, meanwhile, existed on a level few other comics have ever reached. In a vast, multi-chapter epic spanning some dozen issues, an increasingly desperate and isolated Strange journeys to lands scarcely imagined by mortal men. There, he encounters beings so unknowable and cosmically powered that their mere existence is beyond our mortal ken. Ditko set Strange as one single solitary man desperately trying to save our entire universe even while the rest of the universe continued on, blissfully unaware of the strange battles happening around them.

As you can see in the above excerpt, characters like Eternity live in great cosmic landscapes, full of bizarre and almost incomprehensible sparks which bespeak our insignficance as humans. And yet Strange, a mere human with expanded consciousness, fights desperately to avoid massive cosmic destruction.

That astounding storyline, a truly cosmic saga, drew the curtain on Ditko's Marvel era with a real sense of majesty.

The "Dr. Strange" strip has been drifting without Ditko's presence, with pointless stories and uninspired artwork. But I'm mention to you that Ditko's other great series, The Amazing Spider-Man, has reached new heights in 1967.

John Romita has stepped in to fill Ditko's shoes. Lo and behold, the impossible seems to have happened: the comic has gotten better. Amazing Spider-Man is now more fun, somehow both lighter and darker than before. More importantly, some charming supporting characters have emerged. I'm keeping my eye on Romita's groovy interpretation of Gwen Stacy. She seems like she could become a compelling love interest for poor ol' Peter Parker.

And the series seems to be finding its level. Amazing Spider-Man #50 was just released two weeks ago, so I don't want to ruin its fascinating twists and turns. But look at that wonderful page above and tell me you're not intrigued. Romits delivers drama Ditko couldn't reproduce in quite the same way and points to an exciting new future for the old web-head.

Jaunty Jim Debuts

Speaking of exciting futures, comic fandom has been buzzing over the last few months about the emergence of a new creator at Marvel who seems to have a unique set of skills. Jim Steranko is in a role unprecedented at Marvel, both writing and drawing the "Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD" strip in Strange Tales. As far as I can remember, no Marvel creator has assumed the duties as writer and artist of an ongoing. His work is intriguing and unprecedented, and so far it's been spectacular.

Steranko displays a dynamism and energy in his panels which rivals his mentor, Jack Kirby. His men seem coiled with power, drawn with dynamic foreshortening that holds tremendous power on the page even while the anatomy makes no sense in real life. In the page above, look at the wild energy of the final panel in the excerpt above, with its massive overwhelming machinery contrasting with the negative space to add power to Nick Fury's battle. Nobody, not even Kirby draws like Steranko. Who knows what the man can achieve in the coming years?

The King Remains and Reminds Us Why He's King

…which doesn't mean the King isn't carrying his own weight. Jack Kirby continues to deliver some ace action yarns in Fantastic Four and Thor. The recent Doctor Doom-Inhumans crossover story had me on the edge of my seat, as Doom schemed to assume the Silver Surfer's Power Cosmic and, with that power, control the world. That storyline was a deeply dynamic drama, definitively delineated by Kirby's crispy lines.

The Black Panther is perhaps the most dynamic character find of the last year. He debuted in the pages of Fantastic Four #52.  T'Challa is the king of a futuristic kingdom deep in Africa who dons his ceremonial outfit to battle perfidious villainy, in this case embodied in the nefarious Klaw.

It's thrilling to see a Black hero appear at Marvel, especially one who can defeat our estimable heroes in battle while maintaining his regal presence. I'm so intrigued by this new hero. I hope he returns soon. I can't wait to read more about him. (Seems to me he'd be a great member of the Avengers.)

And as for Thor, if there ever was a case where  a picture says a thousand words, the below image does that!

If you don't want to read that issue of Thor, you clearly lack an imagination!

The Debut of Batgirl

Life at National Comics has been a little quieter than life at Marvel these days. Their quietness has started to make National's line of heroes feel a bit stodgy compared with their Marvel counterparts. Lately the Justice League of America has veered a bit into camp, which felt appropriate when the Batman TV series was at the top of the charts. Since people are starting to get bored of Batman's repeating jokes, likely sales of Batman-related comics will begin to sag as well.

For instance, the return of the Penguin to comics in Batman #190 boasts a wonderful cover by Carmine Infantino but… darn, look at the stiff and uninspired artwork inside the issue.

Maybe the introduction of the dynamic new Batgirl will revitalize the Batman comics a bit. College student Barbara Gordon, the daughter of Commissioner Gordon, donned her distaff version of the cape and cowl in Detective Comics #359, late last year. Fan reaction to her appearance has been all over the place. Many have praised the idea that this new Batgirl can actually throw punches and kick some heads in – unlike the more old-fashioned Bat-Girl of the 1950s. Others have complained about the need to tie Commissioner Gordon more closely with our heroes. And some younger fans have complained about Batgirl acting like a big sister to Robin, which embarasses him since a girl can often out-achieve him (of course the female fans love that aspect of the heroine).

On Barbara Gordon, Batgirl - Gotham Calling

Under Infantino's pencils, the new Batgirl is a lilthe, athletic fighting machine. She's also kind of a women's libber, fighting with the ability of a man while maintaining her female identity. She would be a welcome addition to the Batman TV series. I hope she gets added to it soon.

Sadly, unless her series takes a radical turn, I can't imagine Wonder Woman becoming a feminist icon. I dare you to look at the cover below and tell me I'm wrong.

The tremendously prolific Robert Kanigher writes Wonder Woman. He's is one of the key forces behind the war comics I mentioned earlier. Maybe's he's too busy in his mental combat to consider the abuse he's heaping on his heroes.

In fact, of DC's heroes line, only "Legion of Super-Heroes" in Adventure Comics resonantes for me (well, okay, one other series has sparked excitement – see below for the details). My newfound love for the Legion surprises me. I usually yawn at the Superman family of titles (which this is part of). Readers get one variation after another of the same full stories. But new writer Jim Shooter has brought a new energy to the future's finest super-teens. Just this year, "The Doomed Legionnaire" brought an unexpected death to the team (I promise I won't tell you who dies!) This month, we're viewing an incredible flash-forward to a time when the Legionnaires are adults. It's spellbinding stuff, written for teenagers with an energy and freshness which makes me wonder if Shooter himself is a teen.

And finally…

This article has aleady run long, so I'd better add a few final notes before I head down to the Spanish Castle to see Paul Revere and the Raiders…

  • Doom Patrol continues to be DC's ginchiest comic book – miss it and weep, pals!
  • Archie's super-hero parodies like Captain Pureheart are a giggle a minute if you're in the right mindset. They are well worth your twelve pennies.
  • Warren continues to publish the outstanding horror comics Creepy and Eerie, and each feature work by the delightful Mr. Ditko. Miss them at your peril.
  • Look for copies of King Comics' Flash Gordon on your local stands. If you can find it, you will find some breathtaking comic art by the likes of Al Williamson and Reed Crandall.
  • And lastly and leastly, a reminder that  the weakest and dullest comics in the Marvel line is The X-Men. Save your cents for its much better imitator, Doom Patrol. When will Marvel wise up and give up on this series?

Till next time, sayonara!




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Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[October 28, 1966] "Seconds" Presents a Different Kind of Horror

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by Jason Sacks

Whatever happened to the dreams of youth?

Arthur Hamilton is a man in his fifties. He's bored and lonely, tied down to responsibilities and to people that he just doesn't care about. He's trapped in his own head, in his own existential middle aged angst, filled with a longing, aching, painful feeling that his life just hasn't gone the direction he wanted it to go.

Hamilton once was a tournament-winning tennis player who attended an Ivy League school. Hamilton once had dreams of making a living as a painter, someone free to express himself through his art and creativity. Instead Hamilton labors at suffocating job, as a bank manager who spends his days concerned about topics like debt-to-equity ratio.

Hamilton's family life is equally as suffocating. His only child, a daughter, has moved all the way to California fron New York. Though she's the pride of his life, Hamilton seldom talks to his daughter. And his relationship with wife Emily also suffocates Hamilton. Their life stultifying, dull, set into a set of grooves so deep it's impossible to see out of them.

So when Arthur is offered the chance to suddenly change his life, to literally experience life as a new person, he takes the chance to get a new face, fingerprints, and a completely new life courtesy of a mysterous corporation.

And, in the end, Arthur will learn that happiness does not come from the outside but from the inside.

Seconds is the new film directed by John Frankenheimer, whose work I loved in last year's 7 Days in May and the brilliant 1963 film The Manchurian Candidate. Like those two other great paranoid thrillers, Seconds delivers a nightmare vision of America that resonates with our current day, delivered in a steady pace that creates a world that both tempts and terrifies, and that shows a hyper-realized version of our everyday lives.

The move starts with a compelling title sequence. Created by the brilliant Saul Bass, the sequence focuses in on ultra close up images of a man's face. Seldom has an ordinary human body looked so strange in the movies, and this sequence sets up a profoundly upsetting stage for the film to follow.

A few of the brilliantly terrifying images Saul Bass throws at the viewer during the title sequence of Seconds.

After the credits, we get an equally strange and dislocating sequence at New York's Grand Central Station. The station is often shown as a cathedral or a simple transportation hub during films. But I can't remember an instance when the great civic landmark looked so upsetting and strange as Frankeinheimer and cinematographer James Wong Howe create a helter skelter impressionistic maze of ratlike passages below the station that tighten the sense of paranoia and confusion.

As he steps onto the train, Hamilton is handed a slip of paper by a man who quickly dashes off, a confusing encounter in a day of confusing events. Hamilton glances at the paper and sees the address written on it. Nothing else is given him, no information about what is at the address or why he should pay attention to it, but Hamilton is deeply troubled by the encounter. Hamilton's hands shake as he pulls out his newspaper, and his mind is too troubled to do his daily crossword puzzle.

Arthur Hamilton wandering to his train in Grand Central Station, little expecting the encounter that will change his life

As we find out, this strange event connects to another confusing experience that happened to Hamilton the night before. An old friend from his tennis playing days, long thought dead, called Hamilton to ask about his life. That night, the same friend calls Hamilton back. They confirm the friend's identity with a fact nobody else would know, and our protagonist finds himself deeply confused, in a state of existential doubt.

Arthur Hamilton's life has been radically changed these last two days. His previously deep groove is having its walls knocked down, and the resulting existential confusion terrifies Hamilton. He's in a cold sweat – a recurring element of this film – contemplating his life changing in unexpected ways.

When his wife Emily tries to comfort Arthur, even making a small romantic pass at him, Arthur turns away. He can't break out of his groove. He's too trapped in his own ennui, his persona of bland, bored placidity to change any aspect of his everyday life. The couple who dutifully give each other pecks on the cheek and who sleep in separate beds simply cannot change their lives. They are too trapped in their groove to imagine anything more.

Arthur is trapped in his own skin, tragic and pathetic in his inability to change.

How can anybody like that, living a life of deeply sad boredom, turn away from a chance to change himself? Hamilton has to go to the corporation – the cold sweat he feels the next day at work brings him there – and he turns away from his dull life in weathy Scarsdale and towards a new life, a mysterious life that will allow him a second chance to live out his youthful dreams.

Arthur Hamilton undergoes surgery and is reborn with a new name (Antiochus Wilson) and a new body, handsomer and younger looking. No longer is the distinguished-looking, 50-year-old  man played by John Randolph. Now he is played by the dashing Rock Hudson, matinee idol and icon for masculine confidence and charm.

The casting of Hudson in this role is a masterstroke. It's hard to imagine anyone better suited to play Antiochus Wilson than Hudson, and his performance in this film is a revelation. I'm used to seeing Hudson as the chamingly bland leading man in a series of Doris Day vehicles, but here he seems like a man caught between two worlds. He delivers a deeply passionate performance as a man caught between what he aspires to become and what he actually is.

That might best be displayed in the ambiguous relationship he has with the glorious actress Salome Jens, playing her character Nora Marcus like a divorcee set free from her own responsibities. She and Wilson quickly connect to each other, appropriate since their lives seem so parallel.

Their relationship comes to a head in a deeply strange and fascinating scene of a bacchanalian winemaking event the couple attend, in which the love of grapes causes all inhibitions to be cast off. It is in that moment that we begin to see Hudson's acting skills on full display, and see that his existential confusion hasn't disappeared because he's in a new body. No matter how much we can change our appearances, we will always be ourselves. That realization leads to several more thrilling twists and turns until we reach the deeply disturbing conclusion of this film.

By the time we reach the terrifying conclusion of Seconds, we can't help but to see ourselves in the split persona of Arthur Hamilton and Antiochus Wilson. No faceless corporation can ever truly free us from the person we are in our heads, and no mere physical changes can change us emotionally. People can't change unless they commit to actually changing themselves. No change wrought by outside forces or through physical change can stick.

We are all trapped inside our own minds.

And that might be the most frightening horror of all.

Four stars.




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Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[August 24, 1966] Fantastic Voyage lives up to its name!

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by Jason Sacks

It’s finally here! And it was worth the wait. Fantastic Voyage has reached the big screen, and it’s spectacular.

Fantastic Voyage may be the most advertised science fiction film ever made, with intriguing articles in Life and Look, a novelization published in The Saturday Evening Post and about a zillion articles in Famous Monsters in Filmland. And despite this endless campaign – or maybe because of it – I'm delighted to tell you this audacious film deserves its media ubiquity.

Fantastic Voyage starts like a super-spy film. Genius Eastern Bloc scientist Dr. Jan Benes defects to the United States, established in a dramatic scene of Benes landing on the tarmac of a Los Angeles-area airport. However, on the journey from a Los Angeles-area airport to a safe house, the scientist is attacked by a group never identified to us but who likely are agents from the same Eastern Bloc country. During the battle, Benes receives a near-fatal brain injury, and he is rushed to a secret military base. In the base, a top-secret and nearly impossible operation must be conducted to save Benes: a journey into his own bloodstream to destroy the cause of his injury.

That initial sequence took me by surprise. The first ten minutes of Fantastic Voyage contain no dialogue and no exposition. The viewer isn’t given any context around what is happening, and the events have a surprising absence of spy thriller heroism. This isn't James Bond battling SPECTRE in Thunderball. In fact, the film cuts away from a gun battle for us to follow the scientist to the secret base. This is an audacious decision by director Richard Fleischer which keeps viewers focused on the important aspects of the film, not the extraneous fluff which seems exciting but wouldn't add any necessary drama to the film’s events.

In a delightful bit of casting, our point of view character here (named Grant) is played by Stephen Boyd. In real life, Boyd was born in Ireland and apparently was a finalist for the role of James Bond in Doctor No. Boyd resembles Sean Connery, with his rugged facial features and strong chin. The resemblance makes the next sequence of this film more fun.

Grant himself is brought to the same secret government facility in which Dr. Benes is convalescing. As viewers soon discover, the facility is buzzing like a hornet’s nest, full to the brim with important-seeming people wandering to and fro in golf carts in order to do their jobs. This agency, the CMDF, has somehow developed the ability to shrink humans to the size of a cell, and is able to inject Grant and four explorers into Benes’s bloodstream to destroy the blood clot in his brain.

The CMDF is a clever inversion of the great work NASA is doing these days: yet another government institution devoted to exploring inner space rather than outer space. Of course, users have to suspend their disbelief to appreciate the CMDF, but there's plenty of suspension of disbelief required to enjoy this movie.

The group of explorers includes a noble doctor and his brave assistant (who, as you undoubtedly know, is played by the gorgeous Raquel Welch), a stalwart pilot, and a treacherous scientist played by Donald Pleasence. None of the characters are very subtle in this movie; all are cardboard in a way reminiscent of the worst Bond pastiches. For instance, Cora, portrayed by Welch, has a moment of feminism but soon becomes a traditional kind of weak female cliché. And anyone who doesn’t immediately suspect that Pleasence's character, Dr. Michaels, will turn Benedict Arnold on the crew is simply not paying close attention.

But this is not a character movie as much as an adventure movie. We don’t expect deep characters in a film like this one, and their characterization is secondary to all the other events we witness.

Fleischer takes pains to spell out the miniaturization process and the way the bloodstream submarine works. The multistage segment in which the sub is shrunk feels a bit laborious, though the scenario seems intentionally set to remind viewers of the way our beloved Mercury and Gemini rockets work.

Padding aside, I felt myself leaning forward in my seat at the Northgate Cinemas, anxious to see what would happen as the sub was injected into Benes's body. And of course, as the color spread in Look shows us, this is when the movie begins feeling truly full of splendor. The scenes of the submarine traversing veins, arteries and capillaries are perfect contemporary action scenes for a 1966 movie. Reportedly many of these scenes were filmed in giant soundstages, with a full-sized version of the submarine along with several miniatures.

This is where the big budget backing of 20th Century Fox makes the film much stronger. The level of detail portrayed here is impressive, with the giant, almost prison-cell-like blood corpuscles feeling like an ever-present danger.

There’s a major sequence of the film in which the Boyd character gets lost in the scientist’s lungs. As I read several times in Famous Monsters, this sequence was actually filmed in two soundstages on the Fox lot. When Boyd pierces one of Benes's lungs, the breath flings Boyd a long distance. Viewers absolutely see and feel the distance Boyd is flung. This drama would have been impossible to simulate without the giant stage setting, giving viewers a strong sense of space.

As the explorers work their ways through the body, doctors and military men watch. It’s clever how sometimes the watchers are helpless – there’s a funny series of moments when the Arthur O’Connell character, Col. Donald Reid, drinks cup after cup of sugary coffee due to his stress.

Other times the observers are active participants in the drama, as when the explorers make their way to the scientist’s ear, which demands absolute silence. When one nurse accidentally drops a pair of scissors, real chaos ensues – and delivers one of the most thrilling moments of the film.

Though much of Fantastic Voyage is predictable, its special effects, coupled with the dramatic score by Leonard Rosenman, make the voyage  exciting and often thrilling. Director Fleischer, who directed the similar 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea back in 1954, has a steady hand and clearly understands how to keep the viewer engaged in the story he is telling.

Of course, not a bit of this film makes sense once you start to contemplate its ideas. Isaac Asimov’s adaptation of this movie in the February 26 and March 3 editions of The Saturday Evening Post fills in many of those gaps, and I just saw the collected version of Asimov's adaptation at my local Korvette’s. I highly recommend the novelization because Asimov addresses many issues — including naming Dr. Benes.

But logic and reason aren’t the reason to see a film like Fantastic Voyage. For sheer gosh-wow spectacle, presented in full CinemaScope glory, Fantastic Voyage is well worth your buck twenty-five admission.

Four stars.




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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[June 6, 1966] The World is Ending (Make Room! Make Room! by Harry Harrison)

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by Jason Sacks

The Earth is starting to collapse.

Smog fills the air of our greatest cities, species are dying throughout the world, and the global population continues to increase geometrically, threatening our very existence as human beings on this planet. Half the people in the world live in extreme poverty while most of the other half worry about falling into poverty. Famine threatens much of the world, even as the world’s arable land decreases due to over-farming.

If things keep going as they have been, we will be facing unparalleled destruction by the end of the century.

Rachel Carson and her important book

Our great thinkers are stepping up to warn us about global destruction. Rachel Carson’s 1962 book Silent Spring is a terrifying description of environmental degradation, while Ralph Nader’s 1965 book Unsafe at Any Speed is a timely reminder the government doesn’t always look out for the interests of everyday people. John Kenneth Galbraith stated the roots of the problem well in his 1958 book The Affluent Society, most people are blind to the destruction we’re creating:

The family which takes its mauve and cerise, air-conditioned, power-steered, and power-braked automobile out for a tour passes through cities that are badly paved, made hideous by litter, blighted buildings, billboards, and posts for wire that should long since have been put underground. They pass into a countryside that has been rendered largely invisible by commercial art… they picnic on exquisitely packaged food from a portable icebox by a polluted stream and go on to spend the night at a park which is a menace to public health and morals. Just before dozing off on an air mattress, beneath a nylon tent, amid the stench of decaying refuse, they may reflect vaguely on the curious unevenness of their blessings. Is this, indeed, the American genius?

Galbraith’s fictional family is all too real, all too likely to overlook the terrible ways we’re destroying our planet. The worst part of his scenario is a sad truth: all these issues are likely to compound, to become worse and worse over time. Eventually these trends will become so powerful, there will be no way to reverse them. If we don't reverse them, our planet is doomed.

Population growth vs the rate of food production, from a Malthusian perspective

Add to those problems the massive impact of the Mathusian theory of population growth, which states (to simplify it dramatically) that population growth is exponential while increases of food, water and other key commodities is linear. Anyone extrapolating out Malthus’s theories will discover our world population is fast outstripping our ability to feed and clothe them. Malthusians believe we’re facing a ticking population bomb – and they also believe too many people are ignoring that bomb.

A new science fiction novel has come around to remind us of that the bomb exists and is ticking.

Make Room! Make Room!

Make Room! Make Room is a major departure for author Harry Harrison. Harrison is probably best known for his Stainless Steel Rat series, which are light and silly action-adventure stories. In this book he shows his versatility with one of the most compelling and downbeat speculative fiction novels I’ve ever read.

Harrison takes the destruction of the planet to its logical conclusion. By 1999, on the edge of the new millennium, Earth is ravaged. Thousands of species of animals have gone extinct. The world’s population has exceeded 7 billion and continues to grow. Meat and vegetables are commodities more precious than gold. All the oil has been mined from the planet and all the trees have been chopped down.

As Make Room! Make Room! begins, we learn New York City is massively overpopulated. Some 35 million people live in the metropolis, and thousands of people living on the streets. Thousands more live in abandoned cars, now made useless by the lack of oil in the world. Police officers are barely paid, and they live in tiny apartments powered by batteries whose generator is a man riding a bicycle.

Only a small wealthy class of people continue to live in the city, residing in air conditioned, spacious apartments, showering with rare and precious clean water and enjoying the occasional cherished strip of black market steak.

In this world we follow police officer Andrew Rusch as he tries to track down the murderer of a rich man who lives in one of those spacious apartments. We watch Rusch fight through his wretched world to find the killer, find a new love, lose an old companion, and fight like hell to acquire even the most basic things he needs to survive. Even the pathetic SoyLentil steaks are a rare, delicious luxury. Harrison puts us in the well-worn shoes of his characters, forcing us to understand their privations and pain on a personal level.

Make Room! Make Room! is a combination cautionary tale and hard-boiled detective novel, as if Raymond Chandler and Rachel Carson had a child who they gave to Philip K. Dick to raise. Like Dick’s brilliant Dr. Bloodmoney (my favorite book from 1965), Make Room! Make Room! takes place in an anti-utopian society which has experienced a profound collapse in every one of its structures. Unlike Dick’s masterpiece, however, there is little or no catharsis or heroism in Harrison’s book. Everything is misery in Make Room! Make Room!.

Every aspect of Harrison's world brings emotional, financial, or physical pain to the people who live there. The mere act of existing in this anti-utopia is pure torture. And the true sadness of this book is that Rusch and his new girlfriend Shirl only sometimes see this world for the hellhole it is. Other times they wander through the world, like goldfish never seeing the water they’re swimming in.

Young Mr. Harrison

Harrison does a compelling job of extrapolating out the effects of environmental degradation, and he does a masterful job of portraying governmental breakdown. Despite the presence of police, the world seems nearly lawless, with civil servants shown as woefully unable to help in the world and with rebellions cutting off aqueducts into the city. While politicians argue endlessly about stupid things, bureaucrats cut back on food and water rations. Rioting breaks out in the streets and the police are unable to do anything about it. I’m not sure if Harrison is a libertarian, but his portrayal of government here shows a deep distrust of the net the current presidential administration has endeavored to create for all of us.

Another of Harrison’s main ideas is the blindness most people have to the events they’re part of. In one powerful scene late in the book, the government orders a large family to move into the apartment Andy and Shirl are sharing. The family is huge, with ten kids, a couple who have died and a few more on the brink of death. The family are filthy and pathetic, loud, obnoxious and self-involved. They have no class, which bothers Andy and Shirl deeply. But more than class or loudness, the family is horrible to live with because they are representative of the larger, broken society in which they live.

They have too many kids. Those kids get a maximum of three years education. Nobody can find a job. The family live on government rations. They have nothing to look forward to, nothing to strive for, no reason to think things will ever improve for them. Life is misery and eventually you die. If you’re rich and connected, perhaps the police will track down your murderer. If not, you’ll just die like the hundreds who die each day, unloved, unmourned, just another boring statistic in this Malthusian wasteland.

Make Room! Make Room! is a professionally written, powerful novel which took me to a place I don’t want to visit again. Harrison creates a rich and compelling anti-utopia extrapolated from the pages of The New York Times. He shows us a frightful future that seems all too likely to happen. Maybe this book will do a little bit to spur readers  to fight for our ecology and to keep population growth low. Malthus would approve.

3.5 stars.

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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[April 18, 1966] Rocannon and the Kar-Chee

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by Jason Sacks

One of my favorite sci-fi publishers these days is Ace Books. We've talked about their double novels a lot on the Journey, so I'm sure you're well aware of them, but I'd like to take a moment to consider just how delightful their line has been over the last decade-plus.

For the last 15 years or so, Ace's flip books, or tête-bêches if you want to get all French about them, have presented a wide spectrum of science fiction from some of the grand masters. Asimov, Brackett, deCamp and Dick have all been published under the Ace banner along with more modern writers like John Brunner, Kenneth Bulmer and Damon Knight. And while some of these little novels haven't been great –  Agent of the Unknown, to choose one at random, has a fun cover but an uninspiring story – others are thoroughly delightful.

And best of all, all these little novels are all short! Most are 120 pages or less: a quick couple hours' read while on the bus or after school.

Whether delivered as an opportunity to repackage Ziff-Davis novels, or a chance for a young writer to experiment with his or her craft, or a chance for an older writer to burn off an unpublished tale, the reader gets real value from his or her 35¢ (in the '50s) or 50¢ today. And whether the reader discovers a nice treasure or total drek, the low price point and quick-read style of the books seldom leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

The biggest thrill for me with these Ace novels is to get to see a growing science fiction talent spread his or her wings a bit and deliver a terrific first novel. Rocannon's World is exactly that kind of thrill. Written by up-and-coming author Ursula K. LeGuin, this expansion of an earlier Amazing Stories tale shows a passion for alien cultures that demonstrates a unique and intriguing viewpoint.

Rocannon's World is a kind of sci-fi/fantasy hybrid. Our protagonist is Gaverel Rocannon, an ethnologist on a mission to explore the biology of the planet Fomalhaut II. Though Fomalhaut II is nominally under an exploration embargo by the League of All Worlds, the League's enemy establishes a base on Formalhut to battle them.

If you're thinking this sounds like the launch of one of those novels all about the lone hero fighting and defeating a staunch enemy, you're both right and wrong. Eventually Rocannon is able to win, but he only does so after a long and arduous — and exciting — journey, and only after causing himself great trauma and pain.

Formalhut is an intriguing planet, and LeGuin gives this planet an clever sort of fantasy feel. Rocannon and his native companions fly on "windsteeds," giant flying cat creatures, he encountrers dwarflike Gdemiar, rodent like Kiemhir, elven Fiia, even nightmarish creatures just called Winged Ones. It all feels like a bit of lesser Tolkien, and that gives this brief book a lot of its charm.

The author Ms. LeGuin

But charming as this book is, LeGuin wrote something more interesting and complex than a simple story about a battle on another planet. Rocannon goes through an archetypical journey to his heroism. He starts a bit feckless but soon learns the importance of his journey. After enlisting the help of newfound friends, Rocannon gains confidence and trust. His moment of transformation happens when he goes into a mountainside cave. While in the cave, he encounters "the Old One", a strange entity who grants Rocannon "mindspeech", or telepathy, in exchange for giving himself to the planet.

That mindspeech is a blessing and curse, granting Rocannon the ability to win his war but also granting him the chance to psychically feel the pain of all the beings he has killed.

All of this is heady stuff that expands on the considerable promise Ms. LeGuin has shown in her short stories. Though the novel has some flaws, most of them are tied to its abbreviated length. There's a feeling throughout of playing with key ideas and concepts, a kind of authorial exploration of her own mind. I hope we get to return to this world, but even more I hope the author has more good novels in her.

Rocannon's World 3.5 stars

[Note: This novel appears to be a sequel of sorts to Dowry of the Angyar, reviewed in these pages two years ago (ed.)]

I was surprised and happy to discover I liked the flip side of this double novel nearly as much. I've never been a big fan of Avram Davidson's stories in the mags, finding them a bit wordy and dull. Somehow, though, this novel clicked in for me much more than his short stories usually do, and I found myself intrigued and captived by a lot of The Kar-Chee Reign.

Kar-Chee takes place in a far-future Earth. Hollowed out by over-mining and ecological collapse, Earth has been abandoned and forgotten by her children who have long since settled on distant planets. Only a small number of humans remain on the planet, eking out a small subsistence lifestyle. Those humans, though, are imperiled by an insectlike alien race called the Kar-Chee, out to strip Earth of its few remaining minerals, for reasons completely unknown to humans.

As with the LeGuin novel, you can probably guess how Mr. Davidson's story will play out: a group of humans rally their forces, gather up their courage, build smart weapons and begin to beat back the invaders and reclaim Earth's birthright.

The author Mr. Davidson

Like Rocannon, the pleasure in Kar-Chee lies in its journey, not in its destination. Davidson delivers large amounts of expository text in this book, giving readers the background of Earth's downfall in a lyrical style that feels as evocative as stories told around a campfire. Those sections of this novel have a suprising power and I found myself missing the expository elements when the book settled back into its action-packed elements. I wonder if Mr. Davidson has any interest in writing a future history chronicle, because I would love to read something like that.

The Kar-Chee Reign: 3 stars

The April '66 Ace Double turned out to be… well, aces, or at least a Jack and a Queen. Who knows what the next publication will bring? I'll be haunting the paperback rack at my local Woolworth's till the next book arrives.




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Comics

[February 24, 1966] Is 1966 the Best Year Ever for American Comic Books?

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by Jason Sacks

Is 1966 the best year ever for comic books? Yeah… maybe!

Based on the articles I’ve been seeing in newspapers, magazines and fanzines, Batman appears to be the runaway hit tv program of 1966. After 12 episodes, this show has exceeded expectations for fans and non-fans alike. Who would have expected Batman to be so true to the comics, with appearances by the Joker, Mr. Freeze, the Mad Hatter and even an obscure character like the Riddler (who hadn’t appeared in any comics between 1948 and 1965!).

The show has been a delight, and has prompted this house to buy a brand new color TV to enjoy it in its full splendor (well, that, and we had to see the exotic locations in Man from U.N.C.L.E. in color, too). And gosh, what a tremendous show this is for its bright and shiny design elements. The costumes of Batman, the Joker and Robin all look spectacular on our new Admiral set!

I know there has been some grousing about how the show mocks the Caped Crusader and his faithful pal, but I frankly love it. Maybe I’ve been desperate for a superhero TV show since Superman left the air a decade ago, but I dig the clever ways the show’s producers incorporate comic book elements into every scene of the show. The “BIFF! BANG! POW” elements during fight scenes may annoy some viewers who want more seriousness in their superheroes, but to me these are like comic book panels writ large on my 25” screen, thrilling reminders of their roots while also giving TV viewers a clever motif to groove on. Others complain that the characters seem self-mocking, calling it “camp” (a phrase I’ve never heard in this context before), but I wonder if those complainers read the Batman comics I wrote about last year. Until very recently, Batman was a moribund character fated for cancelation, so I’m delighted to see him get any attention at all.

And I groove on the deathtraps these characters find themselves in every Wednesday prior to the Thursday conclusions. Ma Bell likes it too, I think, because my friends and I call each other every week to try to figure out how our heroes can escape from the amazing perils the villains place them in.

I’m starting to see a rise in the interest in super-heroes at my local newsstand, perhaps prompted by the success of the TV show. It also helps that so many of the comics being released today are absolutely great. Not only are Marvel and National releasing lines of comics that are more intriguing than they have ever been, but new and revived publishers are putting out some comics that are outstanding (and some that are less than great, but hey, that’s just the law of averages at play, I think).

A lot of the thrill these days has been at Marvel, as some of their comics are reaching unparalleled new levels of excellence. For instance, the work of Steve Ditko and Stan Lee on both Amazing Spider-Man and the “Dr. Strange” strip in Strange Tales has been outstanding. Peter Parker has graduated high school and enrolled at Empire State University in Spider-Man. Pete seems to be shedding his nature as a nebbish since he joined college, making new friends while having new (and more sophisticated) problems. The three-part “Master Planner” saga which ended in ASM #33 was a storyline nonpareil, a thrill a minute journey with a spectacular denouement. (I’m including the payoff below, but please try to find all these issues if you can, because the leadup is just as spectacular).

Ditko and Lee’s “Doctor Strange” is in the midst of an astonishing long saga which journeys to strange, mystical realms to bring readers scenes we’ve never seen before. This lone hero fights impossible obstacles, issue by painful issue, to save a humanity who have no idea of his heroics. These two Ditko-illustrated comics are breathtaking – and, as I’ll soon discuss, this prolific artist is working on more than two comics lately.

Those two series are two of the three best comics being released in 1966, but the third greatest comic of our year has to be Fantastic Four. Stan Lee and the incomparable Jack Kirby (King of the Comics) are delivering the most astonishing thrill-ride in comics history. Reed Richards married Sue Storm in the 1965 FF Annual, but the couple's life has been no honeymoon since their big event, as they’ve fought an incredible “Battle for the Baxter Building”, before meeting and fighting the astonishing Inhumans. But this month has produced perhaps the finest comic Marvel has ever printed. In this month’s FF #50, the heroes found themselves in conflict with the mysterious cosmic villain Galactus, who wants to eat the Earth simply to stay alive. Readers are swept away with the desperation of our heroes and their valiant battle to save our planet, a story only Jack Kirby could have drawn. It also features the character I believe will be the breakout hero of 1966, the star-spanning Silver Surfer.

Marvel’s also producing some other great comics. Thor has moved out of the old Journey Into Mystery anthology into his own comics title, and Lee and Kirby are delivering a godlike battle there which shakes the cosmos. In X-Men, Lee and artist Jay Gavin keep playing and have delivered an intriguing new hero-villain called the Mimic. Lee and new artist John Romita have been doing terrific work on Daredevil (Romita might be a good substitute for Ditko if the latter ever has to take a month off; it’s hard to imagine Ditko leaving the character permanently). And comics like Avengers, Sgt. Fury, Two-Gun Kid and Tales to Astonish are continuing to deliver satisfying action stories, with the shattered romance tale "Killed in Action" in Fury #18 a real standout.

At National, which some people call DC, the line has adopted a new set of “go-go checks” at the top of their covers. Besides being hep and fun, these checks also help the comics stand out at my local drug store rack – a smart decision if you ask me.

Inside their comics, National continues their solid comics storytelling. Editor Julius Schwartz’s line is consistently entertaining. The Atom, Batman, Detective Comics, Hawkman and Green Lantern are all standouts for both story and art. Meanwhile, action heroes like the Metal Men, the Challengers of the Unknown and the Sea Devils all continue to deliver fun excitement, and Doom Patrol is always an irreverent treat. New series Teen Titans promises to be fun, and what teen or pre-teen wouldn't groove to the tales of sidekicks joined together?

I was disappointed to see Adam Strange, Space Ranger and Rip Hunter… Time Master lose their ongoing strips, though I'm anxious to see what replaces them.  And though Wonder Woman seems to continue to wander in its own mediocre wilderness (now set in the passé 1940s), the National line seems to be consistently entertaining each month. Of course, it’s hard to project how the massive success of Batman on TV will affect the comics, but one hopes the publisher won’t adopt those “camp” elements fans are so mixed about.

But some of the most exciting news in comics is happening outside of these two dominant publishers.

Gold Key Comics, primarily known for their comics featuring adaptations of TV series as diverse as Top Cat, Flipper and My Favorite Martian as well as their Disney line, is continuing their adventure comics line and even expanding the line. In fact, Super Goof set Mickey's pal Goofy as a super-hero in a delightful series of adventures as Super Goof!

Gold Key is the former sister publisher to Dell Comics, and it can often be hard to tell the two companies apart from each other despite their differences in editioral staffs. Their line also mainly consists of adapted titles like The Beverly Hillbillies and The Outer Limits along with a handful of original titles like Ghost Stories and Air War Stories. That line included a few new originals, including the gross-out Melvin Monster (which seems to be done by the same staff who deliver the delightful Thirteen Going on Thirty series) and the super-hero Nukla. I was also surprised to see a Black cowboy comic on the stands from Dell. Lobo is the stor of a buffalo soldier accused of a crime he didn't commit, and the first issue is pretty terrific! This may be the first comic featuring a solo Black character in his own title in many years (I believe there were a couple published by small companies in the 1940s), which is a nice sign of progress for the Great Society.

For many years, Charlton Comics have been considered at the bottom of the barrel, with their comics consistently delivering hackneyed and dull stories. Making things worse, Charltons seem like they’re printed on a cereal box press, with a strange paper texture, jagged edges on some of their pages, and even an odd smell to some of their comics.

Thankfully, though their printing quality doesn’t seem to be improving, Charlton’s comics are indeed improving. New series Peter Cannon… Thunderbolt launched early this year and has been fun. With art (and story?) by the mysterious PAM, these stories combine a surprising Eastern influence with New York gangsters. This is a series to watch.

Even more exciting is Captain Atom. You may remember the good Captain as an early sci-fi superhero from 1959 and 1960. Forget what you read before. The great Steve Ditko is now drawing Captain Atom’s adventures, and, let me tell you, they are as good as the stories Ditko is drawing at Marvel. Ditko’s Captain Atom is dynamic, fun and gorgeously illustrated. You’ll get bragging rights among your friends for recommending these comics to them.

I wish I could recommend Archie Comics’ line of superheroes to you, but they are painful to read. For many years now Archie has been publishing The Fly, but now the character has been renamed Fly Man in his own series (maybe to confuse Spider-Man fans?) and is also part of a new super-team called The Mighty Crusaders. That new team comic might be the worst comic of 1966, even worse than Wonder Woman.

The Archie heroes are written and drawn in a painful pastiche of the Marvel style, with “hip” dialogue and “fun” captions that read like a grandfather desperately trying to connect with his goatee-wearing grandkids. These comics aren’t just groan-inducing, they’re downright painful. Ignore them.

On a happier note, new publisher Tower Comics has been a very pleasant surprise. Their flagship title is THUNDER Agents, a fun mix of super-heroes and spy agencies that sets super-heroes No-Man, Dynamo, Menthor and Lightning against the evil Warlord.

So far, each issue has been double-sized, which means it’s packed with great and dynamic stories. Best of all, it includes illustrations from some of my beloved masters of comic book art, including Wally Wood, Reed Crandall,  Gil Kane, George Tuska, Mike Sekowsky and others. These have been terrific comics, well worth seeking out. According to the fanzines, Tower has been doing well and should be available most everywhere, but if not, remind your local newsstand owner that he should make higher profits at 25¢ retail per issue.

Superheroes continue at American Comics Group as well. ACG comics always seem to range from “ok” to “weird as can be.” In the former category are Nemesis in Adventures into the Unknown and Magicman in Forbidden Worlds. Both those series read like mediocre Marvel or National comics, which is just fine.

But if you’re not picking up an occasional issue of Herbie, you’re missing one of the strangest, most inexplicable comics on the stands today. Just look at that cover above if you don’t believe me. I don’t even want to try to describe this unprecedented series to you because it’s just so surreal and delightful. I laugh more at this comic than I ever will at a year's worth of Archie hero comics. I promise you that Herbie and his lollipop will burrow into your brain.

The most unexpected premier of the last year has been the appearance of Captain Marvel on the newsstands, but it's not the Captain Marvel you'd think of. Newcomer publisher M.F. Publications has launched the adventures of a completely new Captain Marvel. Instead of shouting "Shazam", this Cap screams "split" and splits off his hands, legs and head so he can fight multiple criminals at the same time. Yes, it's all as odd as it sounds, made even odder by the fact that apparently the series is written and drawn by Carl Burgos, the man who created the original Human Torch back in the early 1940s!

The last stop in our journey through comics in 1966 takes us to the magazine rack. On the cheaper area of some racks we might find magazine-sized comics from M.F., including their wretched seridss Weird.  The less said about the terrible stories and art in Weird the better. Thankfully next to Weird,where we will find Warren Magazines. You might remember Warren from my article about the late, lamented Help! Magazine, which sadly recently saw its final issue on the newsstand. Thankfully publisher James Warren has filled that gap with two great horror comics and an even better war comic.

Warren started publishing horror anthology Creepy in late 1964, and that mag has built a deserved reputation as one of the finest horror comics ever published, a worthy successor to the classic EC Comics. In fact, that comparison is appropriate because Creepy and its new sister title Eerie have published great horror tales drawn by the likes of Al Williamson, John Severin, Reed Crandall and Johnny Craig – EC legends all. Even more thrilling, those brilliant artists have been joined by modern counterparts like Gene Colan, the astonishing Alex Toth and, yes, the brilliant Steve Ditko. I told you Ditko gets around! With brilliant writing by the always adept Archie Goodwin, these comics are a tremendous treat.

I’m also a huge fan of Warren’s war comic Blazing Combat. Also written by Goodwin, the three issues thus far include brilliant artwork accompanying piercing and terrifying war tales that tell the gritty truth of war as it really is. They are the second best war comics ever published, behind only the truly great war comics written and edited by Harvey Kurtzman at EC. I’m sure BC doesn’t sell well, so I beg all comics readers to pick up this magazine while they still can. It costs three times as much as a standard comic, at 35¢ per issue, so I understand peoples' reluctance at picking up issues of this amazing series.

Whew! You can see why I say comics may never have been better than they are today. Truly, any trip to the comics rack will bring you some delightful treasures no matter what sorts of comics you like.

One final note: here in my native Brooklyn, there seemed to be some strange event over Mt. Sinai Hospital today. We saw some storks on the roof of the hospital. Anybody with any information on the events at the hospital that day, please contact this magazine.

The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well! If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article! Thank you for your continued support.




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Movies

[December 16, 1965] Two Creepy Terrors (Die Monster Die! and Planet of the Vampires)

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By Jason Sacks

Last weekend I took my girlfriend down to our local drive-in theatre, the good ol' Puget Park Drive-in, to catch a delightfully moody double feature of sci fi scares. Die, Monster, Die and Planet of the Vampires are perfect drive-in fodder. Both films offer atmospheric adventures accentuated with dread and tension, presented in vivid color that adds to the fear created in each scene. We were surprised by how much we enjoyed both of these flicks and I hope I can persuade you to catch them when they come to your town.

The Puget Park Drive-in. It doesn't look like much, but it's brought plenty of thrills over the last few years.

Die Monster Die!

The first movie on our double bill was Die Monster Die! This flick, released by our good friends at American International Pictures, is apparently a loose adaptation of the H.P. Lovecraft story "The Color Out of Space" and co- stars a cadaverous Boris Karloff along with Nick Adams and Suzan Farmer in a thoroughly entertaining, moody tale that has some powerful moments influenced by the horror master of Arkham, Massachusetts.

When American Stephen Reinhart (Adams) travels to Arkham, England to visit his fiancée Susan Witley at her family's strange mansion, he clearly has no idea the kind of bizarre adventure he will find there. From the moment Reinhart leaves the train, he meets surprising resistance to his getting to the Witley home. A taxi driver refuses to take his fare, a bike shop owner refuses to rent him a bike, and Reinhart is snubbed by villagers for even suggesting he wants to travel to visit his fiancée's family. The countryside around Arkham is scorched with a deep crater, and it's pretty clear the crater has left scars in the villagers' minds along with their town. Is the crater related to the fear of the pariah Witley family? As we'll soon discover, there is ample reason for the villagers' fears.

Stephen marches to the Whitley mansion on foot. When the intrepid American finally arrives at the house, he begins to understand why the villagers think him crazy for wanting to spend time there. The once-stately home has fallen into a state of deep disrepair. Its gate is rusted, plants grow wild in the yard, and the whole place seems to need a new coat of paint. This slow unfolding of deepening confusion transitions the viewer into a sense of dread about what Stephen will find at the house, and makes the viewer concerned about the people living there.

Meandering quietly into the house, Reinhart nearly stumbles over the wheelchair-bound patriarch Nahum Witley (Karloff), who tries desperately to frighten our American hero away. Karloff is wonderful here, with a deep sense of gravitas, but he also carries some real sadness, as his advanced age and significant medical problems are clearly on display. Nahum keeps his reasons vague, but his words make it clear that there are true horrors there, including dread creatures that imperil everyone.  Just as it seems Nahum is ready to literally push Stephen out of his house, his lovely daughter intervenes. Susan Witley (Farmer) is the opposite of her father: welcoming, kind and optimistic.

It's obvious from the first moment we meet Susan that she and Stephen will soon find themselves in opposition to Nahum. Less obvious is the looming presence of Susan's mother Letitia (Freda Jackson), a woman seemingly at death's door who speaks to Stephen in foreboding murmurs about meteors and monsters, bewildering descriptions of seemingly indescribable objects and events that leave our hero deeply confused. Letitia's body also appears to be rotting away, and perhaps Stephen wonders if her mind is rotting as well. To  show her physical rot, we get a few weird glimpses of Letitia's body, including a hand that seems to lose its flesh the longer we watch it.

Good ol' Boris Karloff, trying to scare Stephen away from his house. Run away, Stephen!

The movie cuts from Letitia to Nahum and his trusty aide Merwyn (Terence De Marney) as they wander into the basement of the mansion — and it is in this scene that the horror starts to become clear. Amidst smart set decorations of distended faces and glowing neon colors, it's clear that Nahum and Merwyn have a deep and dreadful secret, tied to the strange glowing thing locked in that basement, the thing that alternately scares and interests Nahum.

From there, the movie begins to really take off into its own creepy territory, a smart mix of Lovecraft with the darkest work of Edgar Allan Poe along with a few AIP stylistic flares. If you've seen the trailer for Die Monster Die!, you've seen the wonderfully strange monster below which indeed seems to come right from the typewriter of the great Mr. Lovecraft.

This definitely looks like something out of Lovecraft

I was legitimately creeped out by that otherworldly monstrosity and the eerie keening noise it made. As the secrets of Nahum's home become more and more evident, this monster proves to be just one of the many horrors living there. We encounter living plants, see a shockingly dark end to Letitia's life and eventually get another chance to see the great Mr. Karloff made up to be a frightening killer. By the time we witness a strongly Poe-influenced ending to the film, viewers have witnessed some real strangeness on screen.

My girlfriend and I both really enjoyed this flick. Karloff is at his classic best here, providing his character with real depth and pathos. Despite his obvious illnesses, Karloff frankly thoroughly out-acts his counterparts on the screen. Adams and Farmer are an attractive couple, but they are two-dimensional. We learn little or nothing about either one of them, and Stephen mostly exists in this film as a plot device rather than a real character. Similarly, Susan was a character with great potential as a woman with one foot in the supernatural world and the other in our human world, but she is never given much to do beyond being Stephen's sidekick.

Karloff showing his inner glow

I also would have loved to see more about the villagers' fears, and explore the meteor's impact more, but all of my complaints about depth are kind of moot here. As the front half of a double-bill, Die Monster Die! had to be about an hour and fifteen minutes long. And as a movie of that length, it triumphs. The photography is excellent, Karloff is loads of fun, and the monsters are spooky.

Planet of the Vampires

After grabbing some popcorn and jujubes, we got back in the front seat of my Mustang for the second film of the evening. Planet of the Vampires was the perfect film companion to Die Monster Die. Both movies are spooky, atmospheric tales with lovely colors and intriguing acting.

Nothing on this poster matches the movie but I didn't mind!

In fact, most everything I enjoyed about Die Monster Die! is done even better in Planet of the Vampires. The great Italian director  Mario Bava (maybe best known in the US for his brilliant and terrifying debut film Black Sunday) journeys into space to deliver one of the most deeply upsetting movies I've seen in a while.

Two ships, the Argos and the Galliot, are exploring deep space together. When the rockets receive a distress signal from a nearby planet, they must land on that planet to investigate. On the way down to the planet, the ships' crews begin to go crazy, as if possessed by an alien force, and try to kill each other. The captain of the Argos, Captain Markary (Barry Sullivan), keeps his wits about himself and is able to force sanity and stop the fighting on his ship. The other ship… well, we shall soon see their fate.

The Argos lands on a strange planet. Dig that colorful sky!

Both ships land on the surface of the planet, and what a strange surface it is. Eternally shrouded in fog, with glowing rocks and mysterious sounds, the planet seems wrapped in deep mystery, and as the crew investigates the planet and the fate of the Galliot, terrible horrors begin to bedevil both crews in their ships and on the planet itself. We soon discover the bodies of the Galliot's crew, shredded and bloodied. But despite their seemingly life threatening damage, the bodies rise again and begin walking around. The bodies even go outside the spaceship and spread their terror to both crews.

Bava does a brilliant job with many elements of this movie, elements which add smartly to the viewer's deep feeling of disquiet. The astronauts' uniforms are beautiful. The cast wears well-fitting leather jumpsuits with high collars that seem practical but also strange. The cockpits of the ships are surprisingly spacious, with a lot of open space on them, which gives a strange sense of alienness to anyone used to cramped rocket capsules. The film is also deeply, eerily quiet, with just a few electronic noises to accentuate the horror. The deep silence seems to accentuate the tension, making viewers feel a deep sense of unease.

I think these uniforms are about the most beautiful in sci fi.
There's one sequence in which Bava's artistry really shines. In one intriguing set-piece, Captain Markary and his right-hand assistant Sanya (Norma Bengell) discover an enormous spacecraft which appears to have been trapped on the planet for seemingly thousands of years. Bava does brilliant work with perspective in these scenes, emphasizing the miniscule size of the humans in the midst of this bizarre alien craft. And as befits a master of horror films, Bava presents the craft as looking incredibly strange and dislocating for both the viewers and the crew.  It's old and looks decayed, with paint peeling and nature taking over the edges of the ship. Their exploration leads to a fascinating deathtrap unlike any I've seen before in film. It also makes the viewer wonder, profoundly, that if creatures this large can be killed by the residents of this planet, what chance do humans have?
The giant alien on the strange abandoned ship

The creatures on this planet aren't vampires in our usual sense of the word (perhaps they're energy vampires or body possessors or something else slightly ineffable). But that lack of definition makes the creatures more frightening. These vampires are a constant, eerie threat that both viewers and crew can't quite understand. We all know a cross and stake will kill Dracula, but we have no idea how to kill these vampires. That uncertainty makes the film more frightening. There seems to be no easy way out, and the ending helps reinforce that concept.

In fact, Bava and his crew also do something delightful in this movie: they deliver a twist ending, then another twist, and then yet another twist.  Each of the twists feel earned because they are well foreshadowed and yet completely surprising. I want you to be surprised, too, so I won't ruin the fun. I will say this, though. For my money the best twists are the ones that leave the viewers giggling, and my girlfriend and I laughed our heads off at the twists.

The alien planet looks spookier because of all the fog

It seems the budget for this movie was incredibly small (a piece in last month's Famous Monsters reports it cost roughly $200,000 in American dollars to film this movie in Italy). It's intriguing how director Bava worked with his international cast. There are actors from Brazil, Italy, the US and Spain, and each spoke their native languages on set. Bava's team then dubbed their lines in the local language for prints distributed around the world. Brazilians heard Portuguese, Spaniards hear the movie in Spanish and Americans in English. Because everyone spoke a different language on set, the movie has an often dreamlike feel, as if the actors are speaking around each other. That feel helps give this film its unique and wonderful energy.

And though Bava didn't spend a lot on the sets or ships, he gets real value for his lira. Maybe it's the eternal fog that makes the planet surface so compelling, or maybe the colored lights, but the planet of the vampires looked way better than it should have. I felt pulled into the mystery of this movie because of its low budget. Now I want to see more Bava films!

Driving Home
On our way to her home from the drive-in, my girlfriend and I couldn't stop laughing about all the fun we had watching these movies. There's a certain thrill to finding out a movie is way better than you expect it to be. In fact, we had that excitement with both movies last weekend and I think you will, too.

I don't care how popular they are. I love my Mustang!

Hop in your Chev, Plymouth or Pontiac and catch these flicks at your local drive-in while you still can.




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