The 100 Chapter 17: 68 & 67

 

Who doesn't love a list?

I devour the BFI Best Films of All Time list whenever they deem it necessary to revise and (invariably) disagree with most of the findings, but I still get a kick out of browsing. Same with Rolling Stone's inane Best 100 Albums (how does Sgt. Pepper drop from #1 to #24 in the latest incarnation?); the anger I feel subsides when I see they've put a couple of Aerosmith albums on the list! We all disagree with that number one but we keep right on scrolling through each choice.

This project, which has been percolating for quite a while, originated from the constant back and forth "good natured bickering" between John Scoleri and myself. John invariably loves everything and I hate it all (for more of the discourse, I advise one and all to pick up a copy of bare•bones print magazine and read our debates about streaming and movie theaters to get a taste). I began to think it would be fun to compose a Favorite (as opposed to Best) 100 and compare our selections. Making it even more tantalizing, I managed to talk the third head of Ghidorah, Jack Seabrook, into participating. This could be interesting, since John's never seen a movie the two Georges (Romero and Lucas) didn't have a hand in, and Jack usually favors the flicks that have words at the bottom of the screen (dis-moi que j'ai tort, Jack!). I, on the other hand, can't wait to educate these two gentlemen as to what constitutes good cinema.

Every Thursday, we'll count down our picks two at a time. We're hoping this will generate discourse outside of our trio. Let us know just how crazy we are. This is going to be fun!—Peter

The Thomas Crown Affair (1968) 

Starring: Steve McQueen, Faye Dunaway, Jack Weston

Directed by Norman Jewison

" Let's play something else."

Who was it that gifted Steve McQueen with the nickname "King of Cool?" Coulda been anyone since it was evident to anyone who had a pair of eyes that Steve was indeed the king of cool. No movie star could do things with a smile and a turn of the head like McQueen, effortlessly as if he didn't even know he was doing it himself. But he did. That wagon scene in The Magnificent Seven where Steve purposely attracted the audience's eyes from star Yul Brynner to him shows he knew exactly what was what.

McQueen had built a career playing tough guys, usually macho men who worked the range or hunted outlaws or wore a soldier's uniform so, when The Thomas Crown Affair was released in 1968, audiences must not have known what to make of this startling transformation. Steve McQueen as a multi-millionaire, wearing a three-piece suit tailored in London, who moonlights as the master-planner of bank heists? Preposterous. And yet the guy pulls it off without effort.

McQueen has quite a bit of help though. There's director Jewison, who opted for a gentler, thoughtful approach to his crime drama. The famous chess scene seems to go on forever, quite a bit longer than contemporary "filmmakers" would attempt, and accomplishes the same effect as the obligatory soft-focus hump. It's even sexier, I'd argue. Jewison knew that if he told a compelling story, audiences would be patient. If you're looking for a big heist scene, go elsewhere; Jewison  films the robberies almost matter of factly, without much fanfare or trickery. The heist advances the plot, nothing more.

Then there's Faye, coming off the huge hit, Bonnie and Clyde, and soon to be the hottest actress in Hollywood, the perfect counterpart to McQueen. Sexy but brainy. Tough but vulnerable. She falls for Crown but just can't help double-crossing him. In future roles, Dunaway almost seemed to mute her sexual charisma, but here she's molten.

I first saw The Thomas Crown Affair in the early 1980s shortly after McQueen's death. One of the local stations was running a McQueen marathon, I think, and that's where I first saw this, The Cincinnati Kid, and Papillon. I had an inkling (from Bullitt and The Magnificent Seven) that this guy was something special but Crown sealed the deal for me. There were better actors, certainly, but only one male movie star was more captivating than Steve McQueen. We'll get to him soon. 

That final scene, Crown on a jet flying to freedom in another country with a smile on his face reminds me of Neil McCauley's credo: "Don't let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat." This guy looks like he'll be just fine.—Peter

Remarks from the Gallery:

Jack: I've never seen this and I don't know why. It seems like one I'd enjoy. Is that really a photo of Faye Dunaway? It doesn't look much like her.

John: This is a McQueen film that I own but have yet to see. I don't know if I saw him first in The Blob or The Great Escape, but I've been a fan since then. I even like The Hunter, which was my first time seeing him on the big screen.  I finally got around to The Getaway a few months back when it played at the Alamo Drafthouse, and seeing the trailer for the latest rehash of Thomas Crown just makes me more interested in checking out the original.

Gone With the Wind (1939)

Starring: Vivien Leigh, Clark Gable

Directed by Victor Fleming

"Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn."

Things are going swimmingly for gorgeous Scarlett O’Hara on her daddy’s plantation in the Old South until the Civil War breaks out and her home and plantation are ravaged! Though she has set her sights on Ashley Wilkes (who is married to the saintly Melanie), she finds it hard to resist the charms of roguish Rhett Butler, whom she marries (eventually) after he saves her and Melanie when those durn Yankees set fire to Atlanta. Will Scarlet ever stop chasing Ashley? Will Melanie survive another pregnancy? Will Rhett realize that his wife is a jerk?

Like many members of my generation, I first saw Gone With the Wind when it was broadcast in late 1976 over two nights on NBC. It was an epic then and, watching it today in the wake of all the reassessment of its depiction of the Old South, it’s still a great movie. Vivien Leigh portrays Scarlett initially as a spoiled girl; as the film goes on, the character grows deeper and more complex, but you never really root for her. The screen lights up whenever Clark Gable appears as Rhett and he seems to be having a whale of a time, though (as usual) he shows many layers of his character as well. The costumes, the sets, the color, the cinematography—wow! And that terrific score by Max Steiner. What a movie!—Jack

Remarks from the Gallery:

Peter: The first time I saw this was in (I think) the late 1980s, when the film had a major re-release (including the intermission) at the Town & Country in San Jose. Hard to believe it's nearly four hours long since it just seems to breeze on by. It has an epic quality that I don't think has ever been captured since. Gable is great but what keeps me coming back (I've seen it at least a half dozen times since that initial theater viewing) is Vivien, who might just be the most beautiful thing I ever saw on a movie screen.

John: I had never seen this one on TV growing up, so when it came around to our local rep house (The Towne—not the Town & Country Peter refers to) in the late '80s or early '90s, I thought I should finally check it out on the big screen. Sadly, I was not impressed. It wasn't hard for me to believe it was four hours long; I felt every minute of it. As a result, I haven't revisited it since. Perhaps I should, since I obviously went in to that first viewing with my expectations set far too high. 

March of the Wooden Soldiers (1934) 

Starring: Stan Laurel, Oliver Hardy, Henry Brandon

Directed by Gus Meins, Charley Rogers

"Ollie Dee: So far so good.

Stannie Dum: It wasn't so far. We just came across the street."

To me, this will always be March of the Wooden Soldiers, though many are more familiar with it as Babes in Toyland. It's my favorite Laurel & Hardy film. The interweaving of all the fairy tale characters is quite clever, and the way in which they are rendered onscreen is pretty cool (even when it leads to us briefly believing a string of sausages is all that's left of one of the three little pigs...). And it's got a great monkey in a Mickey Mouse costume (apparently Walt Disney licensed the Mouse to Hal Roach Studios for inclusion in the film!), but it's Henry Brandon's Silas Barnaby and the Bogeymen who are the real stars of this children's horror show!

Ill-fitting, somewhat ridiculous costumes which appear to be made out of carpet samples notwithstanding, the Bogeymen are a convincing threat as we see them invade Toyland. This is probably at the top of my list of holiday classics I revisit every few years.—John

Remarks from the Gallery:

Peter: 78 minutes of sheer joy and one I must admit I'd forgotten all about. March was a Thanksgiving ritual around my grandmother's house in the 1960s. It usually came on around one in the afternoon and I never got tired of it. Thanks for reminding me of this one, John; it almost makes up for Highlander.

Jack: My wife turned me on to this one many years ago and we've watched it often, usually around Thanksgiving or Christmas, whenever it airs locally on channel 11. It's a lot of fun. The line, "A Christmas present? In the middle of July?" is one of those that we can say to each other (and to our kids) at random when the situation is right.

Rocky III (1982) 

Starring: Sylvester Stallone, Talia Shire, Carl Weathers

Directed by Sylvester Stallone

"This guy is a wrecking machine! And he's hungry! Hell, you ain't been hungry since you won that belt."

Rocky was the feel-good movie of the 1970s, a little nothing that grew into a big something. You had to be there to experience the buzz, not quite the proportion of a Jaws or Star Wars but still a seismic shift in culture. Everyone at school was talking about Rocky, but when I finally got around to seeing it (shortly after Rocky stole the statue from Network), I thought it was "okay." Three years later, Rocky II was a little less "okay," owing much to Stallone's very public campaign to be taken seriously as an artist (see the snoozefests known as Paradise Alley and FIST); the actor's pretentious interviews at the time couldn't help but enter my brain as I sat there in the theater. Still, looking back, II had some interesting takes on sudden fame and self-worth despite the increased sap and sentimentality.

1982. Probably the greatest summer ever (mine at least) at the Century Theaters. It seemed like two or three compelling flicks would land every week. E.T., The Thing, The Wrath of Khan, Poltergeist, Conan... the list goes on. So, there I stood in front of the Century 22, trying to decide whether to see Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid or Rocky III. I opted for the latter (thank goodness). An hour and a half later I exited the building exhilarated and ready to go right back in.

With III, Stallone for the most part discards the sap and sentimentality (save Mickey's death) and concentrates on giving the people what they want: fight scenes. The three bouts here are electric (in particular the climactic match) and are choreographed so well that you miss the seams and the missed punches. Raise your hand if you used Rocky's training scenes to motivate you for that day's trip to the gym. Stallone's muscles had muscles. 

Stallone surrounds himself with a strong supporting cast, most of whom are back for their third go-round. Carl Weathers, Burt Young, Burgess Meredith, and Talia Shire (the latter's is the only performance that doesn't ring true—Adrian's become a completely different person between II and III—some might say that's how a real-life person matures when their surroundings change, but the Rocky/Adrian argument at the beach comes off as phony to me) all make for interesting and humorous traveling companions for the ex-champ. Newcomer Mr. T. is the eye-opener here; his Clubber Lang almost seems to explode with pent-up energy, hate, and jealousy. His is the best performance in the film. The catchy theme song ("Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor) held on to the American Top 40 just like the film held on to the box office all through the Summer of '82.

There have been nine Rocky franchise films and I've watched every one of them several times (II and V the least), but it's III that I come back to the most for that adrenaline surge.—Peter

Remarks from the Gallery:

Jack: This was a fun movie! I remember we were all going around saying "I pity the fool" for a while. I may still say it from time to time. I managed to see this and Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid in the theaters! Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid had Rachel Ward, so how bad could it be?

John: In the mix of the great 1982 lineup, Rocky III is certainly worthy of mention, but in my opinion there are a lot of other films from that year worthy of top 100 recognition ahead of this one. Yes, it's probably the most entertaining and rewatchable of the early Rocky films (I've only seen it once but was surprised by how much I enjoyed Rocky Balboa); the last time I revisited III was when we hosted a summer of '82 celebration back in 2012 and I've not been drawn back to see it since.

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956)

Starring: James Stewart, Doris Day

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock

"Whatever will be, will be."

While on vacation in French Morocco, Dr. Ben McKenna, his wife Jo, and their son Hank, witness a murder in an open-air market. Before he dies, the victim whispers a message to Ben, leading to the kidnapping of Hank by criminals determined to carry out an assassination back in London. Can Ben and Jo find Hank and get him back safely? Will the assassination plot be foiled? And most important, what does the song “Que Sera, Sera?” have to do with it all?

I first saw The Man Who Knew Too Much when it was re-released in early 1984 after being kept out of circulation for two decades by Hitchcock, who knew a thing or two about suspense. It’s the first of his films to appear in the countdown of my 100 Favorite Movies and it’s certainly a goodie—Jimmy Stewart is my all-time favorite male movie star and, of course, Hitch is my all-time favorite director. Doris Day is terrific and the climactic sequence at the Albert Hall is gripping. Just try to watch this movie and not going around humming “Que Sera, Sera” for a day or two!—Jack

Remarks from the Gallery:

Peter: A really good Hitch with a fabulous Herrmann score. Though not one of my Top Five Hitch flicks, it's got a typically good performance by Stewart and it's immensely rewatchable. 

John: This one's a bit further down my Hitch list. The Birds didn't even make the final cut; nor did North by Northwest, and I'm still agonizing over the absence of both of those. But Hitch will be represented in my top 100, all in good time.   

Anna and the Apocalypse (2017) 

Starring: Ella Hunt, Malcolm Cumming, Sarah Swire

Directed by John McPhail

"Christmas is fast becoming my least favorite "C" word."

I've just about had my fill of zombie films. So much so that I will often avoid those that I am assured will win me over. Like Train to Busan. Or One Cut of the Dead. And don't even get me started on George Romeo's final zombie opus, which lacks the necessary George Romero to be called that... Twilight of the Dead. If you thought The Walking Dead was a great show because "it focused on the human characters, not the zombies," that just tells me you're not appropriately versed in the films of the master. But every once in a while, something will slip through the cracks and prove to be a fresh, new, worthy addition to a genre that has, let's face it, been chewed and re-chewed endlessly. Something that serves as a love letter to Romero and his films, and gives us a unique take on the phenomenon. Shaun of the Dead is an obvious example. And so is Anna and the Apocalypse. 

Ella Hunt is absolutely charming as Anna, who is prepared to launch herself into the world, post high school, in a way that doesn't align with her father's wishes for her. She's got a jerk for an ex-boyfriend, a best friend who likes her more than she realizes, and a teacher who is out to get her; basically, a normal high school life. So, when a zombie outbreak occurs, it's just one more thing to deal with. And deal with it she does. 

On paper, extending the rom-zom-com into the realm of musicals sounds like a horrible idea. But when I saw it was going to get a limited theatrical release, I checked out the trailer and was compelled to check it out. Like Shaun, it was not only funny, but it didn't let you forget that a zombie apocalypse is a horror scenario where people you care about can die. And laid on top of that are a series of musical numbers that were both witty and catchy. "Break Away" and "Hollywood Ending" are two great examples. We were so enamored with the film on our first viewing that we went back to see it a second time during its one-week theatrical engagement. And, years later, it continues to please. We regularly sing along with the soundtrack album. It's my favorite Christmas musical (just edging out March of the Wooden Soldiers), and it might even be my all-time favorite musical, depending on your definition of the term (we'll see if any of my future selections qualify).—John

Remarks from the Gallery:

Peter: Here's one I've never seen and, sorry, mate, the tag line "Shaun of the Dead Meets La-La Land" does not make me want to seek it out. 

Jack: Well, that's a new one on me. A zombie musical? Why am I not surprised? In the last bunch of years, zombies have been so hot that it had to happen. I think the most recent zombie movie I saw was Dawn of the Dead. That was, what, 50 years ago or so?

Journey Into Strange Tales Issue 198: Atlas/Marvel Science Fiction & Fantasy Comics!

 

The Marvel/Atlas 
Horror Comics

Part 183

July 1961

by Peter Enfantino

and Jack Seabrook

Amazing Adventures #2

Cover by Jack Kirby & Sal Brodsky

"I Led the Strange Search for Manoo!" 

(a: Jack Kirby & Dick Ayers) ★

"The World Below!" (a: Jack Kirby & Dick Ayers) ★★

(r: Weird Wonder Tales #22)

"Rocky's Last Ride!" (a: Steve Ditko) ★

Poor (and I do mean poor) Billy Jones can't get himself invited to any of the rich kids' parties; they tell him to stay in his own "social set." Heartbroken, Billy walks through the woods one day and stumbles upon a sight hundreds of Atlas protagonists before him have taken in: a busted-up spaceship and its mildly damaged cargo, a very strange looking alien (think, maybe, Humpty Dumpty with frog legs). The creature tells him that he is on Earth searching for the dangerous space criminal, Manoo, who has gotten the better of him and disappeared into the city. 

The alien explains that their race can morph into anything they want; right now his prey is disguised as a human. The only way to tell the invader from a normal human is that he won't cast a shadow. The creature hands our hero a ray gun and tells him to find Manoo and blast him before he destroys Earth. Billy lets out a cry of "I Led the Strange Search for Manoo!" and heads out on his trek. Even though there are millions of humans in the city, it doesn't take Billy very long to find Manoo hiding in an abandoned theater. 

Billy takes aim but just can't pull the trigger. Manoo takes the ray gun away and asks Billy where he got it. When Billy spills the beans, Manoo lowers his ray gun and explains that it is he, Manoo, who is the outer space policeman and the other big egg the real criminal. Billy doesn't know who to believe so he marches Manoo back into the forest at gunpoint and delivers him to his adversary. The two giant goofballs engage in some fisticuffs before the truth comes out and Manoo rewards his new friend for his bravery. Billy receives a gargantuan diamond for his troubles, heads back to town, buys the university all the rich kids were going to enroll in, and denies them entrance. So, in the end, Billy learns a valuable lesson: do unto others before they do it to you and if they've already done it to you then do it back even worse.

"Manoo" is the pits, the umpteenth tale that begins with a stroll through the woods and a shipwrecked alien. There's literally not one aspect of this crap I can recommend. The script is not the only low point; Kirby and Ayers are clearly running on fumes; the creature design is pathetic and it's hard to tell one human from another. And how about that climactic moral: good job, Stan! It's no wonder that this was one of only a handful of the Kirby/Lee monster tales that was ignored for reprinting.

Doctor Droom is hired by a steamship company to find their missing luxury liner, the Luxuria, which has vanished into thin air at sea. Droom boards a bathysphere and stumbles across a hatch on the bottom of the sea. When he enters the hole, he discovers it's a portal to the lost city of Atlantis. Investigating "The World Below!," he finds that the Atlanteans are about to launch a full scale attack on the surface world. Through the magical art of hypnosis, Droom quashes the invasion and saves all mankind. Though the script isn't breaking any ground and the art isn't much more than a bunch of talking heads, I still like the idea of a series character breaking up the monotony. 

Rocky Baines, manager of the local automated car wash, has been working the perfect con: he convinces the old people who drive into his wash that they've A/ run over his foot; B/ clipped his hip with their fender; or C/squashed his head under their tires. The con nets him lots of extra bucks but then this goofy guy comes in driving a "foreign model" and Rocky goes into his act, only to discover the mark ain't got no dough. When the nut hands Rocky the keys to the auto and tells him to keep it, the con artist quickly learns that this ain't no ordinary "foreign model." It's the old "Car from Mars" twist that's been used a few times before and ain't getting any newer, believe me.-Peter

Journey Into Mystery #70

Cover by Jack Kirby & Dick Ayers

"The Sandman Cometh!" (a: Jack Kirby & Dick Ayers) ★

(r: Monsters on the Prowl #13)

"A Thousand Years" (a: Paul Reinman) ★

(r: Crypt of Shadows #6)

"The Stone Man" (a: Steve Ditko) ★★

(r: Kull the Destroyer #12)

Afraid his only son is becoming a limp-wristed mama's boy, Steve Bronson grabs the kid off his piano stool and tosses him onto an airplane bound for Mexico. Along with his wife, Anne, Steve visits a wonderful little village, hoping the outdoor atmosphere will stimulate little Bobby's manliness. The three discover a remote cave and do some family exploring. 

In the back of the cave, they find a locked steel door. Unable to jimmy the portal, Steve grabs hold of some blasting powder and blows open the door. Behind it they find a single, shapeless statue. Suddenly, the form comes to life, tells the startled family that he is the Sandman, and relates an origin story told many times before: centuries before, the Sandman had flown to Earth from the planet Sandinia-X410 (okay, I made up that part), but his ship had crashed and the natives, afraid Sandy was an "evil spirit," locked him away in the cave. Finally, he is free!

Being a he-man macho dude, Steve begins pummeling the alien, but to no avail; the monster keeps reassembling his disembodied grains. Sandman assumes a human shape and forces the Bronsons to drive him to America, so that he can scope out the vulnerability of Earth's people. Steve manages to draw the attention of the army but Sandman is not worried... once he hits the beach, it's Katy bar the door. He will absorb all the grains of sand in the world and become unstoppable. That is... until little Bobby tosses a bucket of water at the astonished creature and then scoops up all the wet sand and locks it in a crate. Steve congratulates Bobby on his intelligent thinking. Sure, the kid's reading books like a little fruitcake, but he destroyed a menace the army couldn't stop. Maybe an education isn't so bad.

No, but "The Sandman Cometh!" definitely is bad. The only things this microwaved mess has going for it are the two mighty guffaws I let out at the aforementioned scene where Steve just happens to have blasting powder while taking a hike with his family, and that climax, where Bobby takes a pretty small pail of water and destroys a six-foot-plus sand monster. I'm not sure why the Sandman can't just bust out of that crate. His plan for world conquest, as with that of other alien forces in the Atlas comics, needs a little filling in. What will he do with the world once he is its master? And how come he's called "Sandman" when he comes from outer space? Universal language?

In the deadly dull "A Thousand Years," a convict spending life behind bars wishes out loud for freedom and then is startled when the devil appears in his cell (well, we know he's the devil but Stan can't call him that lest the CCA stamp a "Refused" on the script). Old Scratch tells the con that he'll give him one thousand years of freedom for his signature. Satan gets the guy's mark and then causes an earthquake, releasing the prisoner. With hounds right behind him, the dope hides in what he believes is a plane on an air force base (best place to hide, no?). Later, he screams in shock as he realizes the craft is a rocket and it blasts into space. 

Last up is Steve Ditko's "The Stone Man," wherein an old man begs the statue of war hero Dralla for relief from hunger and poverty. The old-timer goes home and takes a nap, unaware that outside on his land gold nuggets begin popping up like mushrooms. Unfortunately, his greedy neighbors snap up all the shiny morsels and become rich, then enact laws that forbid the poor in their village. Dralla's statue is so enraged that it comes to life, transforms the gold into worthless dirt, and hustles the old man away to Valhalla. One of the better strips this month, despite its heavy moral climax (if you believe, you will win out) and awful proofreading (halfway through the story, Dralla becomes Drallas!). Sharp Ditko graphics.-Peter

Strange Tales #86

Cover by Jack Kirby & Dick Ayers

"I Created Mechano!" (a: Jack Kirby & Dick Ayers)  ★★

"The Secret of 'Georgie's Globe!'" (a: Steve Ditko) ★

"Beware of Meeks Bringing Gifts!" 

(a: Jack Kirby & Sol Brodsky)  ★★

Little Tommy's parents are worried about him since he's been spending so much time with "that old tramp Hopkins," but the little imp loves how Hopkins can make anything out of small pieces of nothing. When the State Fair is announced, Tommy convinces the old geezer to make something "real big," like the "biggest machine in the world!" After some thinking, Hopkins agrees if the kid will give him a hand.

One year later, the giant machine is ready to be tested just in time for the State Fair. Bobby christens the nuts 'n' bolts "Mechano" ("absolute genius," sighs Hopkins while questioning whether it was a good idea to let the kid play with the soldering iron) and Hopkins throws the switch. Sure enough, Mechano walks right out of the factory and along the city streets to the fairgrounds. Unfortunately, once he gets there, Mechano is accidentally blasted with an experimental atomic transmitter. Absorbing a ray of pure energy, Mechano becomes his own man and heads out of the fairgrounds to stir up some s**t. 

The police arrive on scene and shoot the robot full of holes but it just keeps coming. Hopkins grabs a crowbar and attempts to jam Mechano's pinion bar (!) but fails to stop the marauding monster. At just that time, an unscheduled armada arrives from space on a mission to conquer Earth. A group of coneheads pop out of the ship, armed with ray guns, remarking that their intel is crap. They were told earthlings were weak and read too many funny books, not that they were gigantic steel machines. After their rays do little damage to Mechano, they hop back in their tin can and fly back into space. The police arrive and blast Mechano with machine guns, destroying the savior of Earth.

Another month, another invasion from space, but at least this one is a little different. I like the interaction between mentor and pupil and the fact that, after he's created his glorious machine, Hopkins doesn't opt to get revenge on all his neighbors who've kicked him out of the country club. The art is hot and cold; some of the panels of Mechano are nicely inked while others look almost ignored. The aliens are hilarious; are those helmets or their heads?

What is "The Secret of Georgie's Globe?" Besides five pages of wasted space, it chronicles the adventures of Georgie, who receives the fabulous gift of a replica of Earth from his parents for his birthday (what kid wouldn't crave a globe?) and then discovers, to his dismay, that anything that happens to the sphere happens in the real world. He spills a glass of water on the Sahara and the Sahara floods, etc. Then, while moving house, the globe drops and breaks. Is it the end of the world? Not quite.

Reporter Walter Johnson is the only man on Earth who mistrusts the Meeks. Who are the Meeks? Well, they are a band of critters from another world who land on Earth and hand out gifts, claiming they are friends from another planet who exist only to make others happy. But Walter is wary. He cries "Beware of Meeks Bringing Gifts!" and forces a Meek onto his TV show to confess that the aliens are here to inherit the Earth. Their plan, to make humans fat and lazy (so that's how we got this way!) so that they could enslave them, worked like a charm until Walter Johnson saw through their scheme. I like the Kirby/Brodsky art but the (clearly) Stan statement in the last panels is a laugh.-Peter

Tales of Suspense #19

Cover by Jack Kirby & Dick Ayers

"The Green Thing!" (a: Jack Kirby & Dick Ayers) ★1/2

(r: Where Monsters Dwell #14)

"The Haunted Paper!" (a: Steve Ditko) ★★

(r: Where Monsters Dwell #14)

"The Coming of Maaboo!" (a: Don Heck) ★

(r: Where Monsters Dwell #14)

Why is a botanist so jumpy when he sees a plant sway in a breeze? His bored colleagues listen to the man's story about his efforts to create a serum to increase a plant's intelligence. Once he was satisfied that he had the right formula, he journeyed to an uninhabited island for a test and injected an ordinary weed with the fluid. The weed immediately grew six feet tall and began to move and speak.

After a shaky first step, "The Green Thing!" got its act together and demanded that the botanist ferry it to the mainland so it could embark on world domination. The man refused, raced to his boat, grabbed the outboard motor, and dove beneath the water, intending to smash the motor on the undersea rocks. Before the plant could stop him it had to do battle with a huge shark! Back on land, the botanist vainly tried to beat back the walking, talking plant with a tree limb before climbing a tree in an effort to avoid the Green Thing.

The plant compelled the tree to bend and deliver the man back to the ground, but the plucky botanist made a run for it and hid in a cave, where he found a small Ignatius Rex plant growing in the soil. This was the plant he originally intended to use for his experiments because it's known to be the highest form of plant life. The man injected serum into the little plant and it grew big and smart and defeated the Green Thing in stalk to stalk combat. Ignatius Rex bid the botanist farewell, cautioning him never again to fool with Mother Nature. That's why, when he tells his colleagues his tale, the botanist claims that his experiments were a failure.

The best thing I can say about "The Green Thing" is that it doesn't involve an invasion from outer space. Kirby and Ayers's art is adequate, as usual, but there's only so much that can be done to make a walking, talking weed visually interesting. It kind of resembles a prototype of Jack Skellington if the pumpkin head were green. The botanist makes some pretty questionable decisions along the way. Since he can't find one Ignatius Rex plant--the whole reason he went to this isolated island--he decides to inject a random weed instead, and why does he jump into the water to destroy the motor? There are plenty of surface rocks available. In my ongoing study, I see one panel with a view of Earth from space and dialogue balloons (p. 5) and zero panels depicting a group of floating heads.

A crook named Nick Rover has to leave town when he hears that the income tax boys are after him, so he relocates under another name, adding a pair of glasses and dyeing his hair black. Nick uses his ill-gotten gains to purchase the town paper, where he discovers that Olef, the old typesetter, has a knack for writing headlines trumpeting unfortunate events before they occur. "The Haunted Paper!" is always right and Nick demands to know how Olef can predict the future. The next day, the headline reads: "Smalltown Newspaper Owner Meets With Serious Accident!" and Nick quickly turns himself in at the police station, certain that a nice, cozy cell is the safest place. Back in the composing room, Olef chuckles to himself and remarks that sometimes fate needs a helping hand.

Ditko's art is so strong at this point that I wish he'd be assigned some longer stories. These five-pagers don't give him enough room! It's funny that the taxman is what strikes fear into Nick's heart; I guess he heard about Capone.

Charlie Wilkes will do anything for a buck. Presently, he's kind of beaten up and, when an old pal runs into him in Burma, Charlie tells the tale of "The Coming of Maaboo!" Having heard the legend of Maaboo, an alien who came to Earth ages ago and commanded local natives to gather up all the gold they could find and store it until he returned, Charlie hired a native guide to take him to visit the tribe. He disguised himself as Maaboo and announced that he was back and wanted the gold. The natives obliged and Charlie was on his way back to the city with his guide when the guide revealed that he was the real Maaboo and he was none too happy with Charlie.

Another dud from Don Heck. The odd thing about this story is that it ends with Maaboo menacing Charlie but it begins with Charlie back in the city, a bit beaten up and without gold, but not that bad off. I guess Maaboo didn't rough him up too badly.-Jack

Tales to Astonish #21

Cover by Jack Kirby & Dick Ayers

"Trull! The Inhuman!" (a: Jack Kirby & Dick Ayers) ★★

(r: Creatures on the Loose #10)

"It Happened on 'The Silent Screen'" (a: Steve Ditko) ★

(r: Where Monsters Dwell #8)

"Open Wider, Please!" (a: Don Heck) ★

An alien rocket ship crash lands in Africa, killing its sole occupant. The creature's life essence survives and floats through the air, looking for a new form to inhabit. Meanwhile, Phil, an engineer whose career came crashing down when a large bridge that he designed fell apart right after being dedicated, is on a ship bound for Africa, where he tries to forget his former fiance, Gloria, who dumped him after the bridge collapsed.

Gloria has taken up with Bart, the foreman of a construction crew slated to build a village in the African jungle. The project will utilize a big steam shovel designed by Phil. On site, Phil stops Bart from whipping a recalcitrant elephant and, just then, the wandering life force decides to enter the steam shovel, bringing it to life. The steam shovel suddenly acts on its own and announces that its name is Trull and it's an alien who plans to rule the world.

Phil, Bart, Gloria, and the work crew are forced to assist Trull as it studies the people of Earth and plans to take over. Gloria makes a run for it and is saved from certain death by the very elephant that Phil had spared from a beating by Bart. The elephant destroys the sentient steam shovel and the alien's life essence floats off again, presumably waiting for a sequel. Gloria tells Phil that she wants him back now that he's proven his manliness, but he tells her that she and Bart deserve each other.

"Trull! The Inhuman!" is truly all over the place. It's interesting that the Trull on the cover looks nothing like the big red steam shovel of the story; perhaps Lee and Kirby realized that it would look too silly. There was a tradition in science fiction stories of inanimate objects taking on lives of their own, but only in a 1961 Atlas tale would this be merged with a story about an alien who wants to take over the world. For the record, we have a floating heads panel on page 7 and panels with views of the Earth from outer space with dialogue balloons on pages 3 and 10.

"It Happened on 'The Silent Screen'" depicts movie theater patrons going to see a film called The Hulk. At the end they leave and the creature steps off the screen and into the auditorium! But wait, it's only a movie about that! No, the creature steps off the screen again! No, it's just a movie! And so on. A waste of five pages and of Ditko's talents.

Finally, in "Open Wider, Please!," a dentist determines that his patient is really a Martian spy. They grapple and it turns out that the patient is a robot from the Red Planet! The dentist pushes the robot's off button and ends the menace before revealing to the reader that he's a robot from Venus! Hoo boy, how many times will they pull out that twist ending? At least Don Heck draws a pretty nurse.-Jack

Thursday...
Jack Gives
a Damn

And Next Week...
The Sequel Absolutely
No One Begged For!

The 100 Chapter 16: 70 & 69

 

Who doesn't love a list?

I devour the BFI Best Films of All Time list whenever they deem it necessary to revise and (invariably) disagree with most of the findings, but I still get a kick out of browsing. Same with Rolling Stone's inane Best 100 Albums (how does Sgt. Pepper drop from #1 to #24 in the latest incarnation?); the anger I feel subsides when I see they've put a couple of Aerosmith albums on the list! We all disagree with that number one but we keep right on scrolling through each choice.

This project, which has been percolating for quite a while, originated from the constant back and forth "good natured bickering" between John Scoleri and myself. John invariably loves everything and I hate it all (for more of the discourse, I advise one and all to pick up a copy of bare•bones print magazine and read our debates about streaming and movie theaters to get a taste). I began to think it would be fun to compose a Favorite (as opposed to Best) 100 and compare our selections. Making it even more tantalizing, I managed to talk the third head of Ghidorah, Jack Seabrook, into participating. This could be interesting, since John's never seen a movie the two Georges (Romero and Lucas) didn't have a hand in, and Jack usually favors the flicks that have words at the bottom of the screen (dis-moi que j'ai tort, Jack!). I, on the other hand, can't wait to educate these two gentlemen as to what constitutes good cinema.

Every Thursday, we'll count down our picks two at a time. We're hoping this will generate discourse outside of our trio. Let us know just how crazy we are. This is going to be fun!—Peter

Red River (1948)

Starring: John Wayne, Montgomery Clift, Walter Brennan

Directed by Howard Hawks

"Y'know, there are only two things more beautiful than a good gun... a Swiss watch or a woman from anywhere... you ever have a good Swiss watch?"

John Wayne's Tom Dunson is flat broke after putting everything he had into his cattle. Now, the only thing that might save him is a cattle drive from Texas to Missouri through treacherous terrain. The longer the drive drags on, the more estranged his adopted son, Matt (Clift) and the rest of the cowboys become from the single-minded Dunson. Eventually, "father" and "son" collide and Matt leaves the old man behind and takes control of the herd. Dunson swears he'll track the young buck down and put a bullet in him. Mutiny on the Bounty out west.

Well, it never quite gets to that point. In fact, the cop-out Hollywood climax is just about the only flaw in this classic western, the first to really exhibit Wayne's acting prowess (it's this film, supposedly, that convinced John Ford that Wayne was ready to play Ethan Edwards) and Montgomery Clift's film debut. Both actors are stunning. According to Peter Bogdanovich, director Hawks was concerned that Clift would go overboard with his method acting (for comparisons of what could have gone wrong, see Paul Newman in The Left Handed Gun) so he told the actor to concentrate on Wayne. Hawks makes several turns away from the norm, chief among them the fact that Matt and fellow gunslinger Cherry develop a friendship rather than settle for the obligatory showdown on the streets of Abilene.

As far as Wayne goes, Red River, to me, is his second greatest role, one I don't think any other actor could have pulled off so effectively. My maternal grandfather was a very important person in my life and his favorite actor was John Wayne so whenever we were at my grandparents' house and a John Wayne flick was on, I'd grab a seat. That's probably how I saw this one for the first time. Wayne could be divisive thanks to his personal views on politics and race but, as a movie star, he had few peers.—Peter

Remarks from the Gallery:

Jack: Red River is certainly a great movie. I haven't seen it in so long that I didn't think to include it on my list, but it sure could have been there. I don't agree with the Duke's politics but I love his movies. If I didn't watch movies where the star's politics didn't align with mine, how could I enjoy all those great Clint Eastwood flicks?

John: Also on my list of unseen John Waynes.

The Grapes of Wrath (1940)

Starring: Henry Fonda, Jane Darwell, John Carradine

Directed by John Ford

"I'll be all around in the dark—I'll be everywhere. Wherever you can look—wherever there's a fight so hungry people can eat, I'll be there."

Released from prison during the Great Depression, Tom Joad returns to his family in Oklahoma, only to find that they have been thrown off their land and must pack up the truck and move to California. The trip along Route 66 is harrowing and, when they arrive in the Golden State, it doesn't seem so golden—they are but a few of the desperate folks taken advantage of by the big farmers. Things only get tougher for Tom and the Joads.

I read John Steinbeck's novel, The Grapes of Wrath, in my late teens or early twenties and was immediately hooked. Over the course of the next few years, I read nearly everything Steinbeck ever wrote. But The Grapes of Wrath remains my favorite, and one of my favorite novels of all time.

I don't recall when I first saw the movie, but it's a classic, with gorgeous black and white cinematography by Gregg Toland and a terrific cast, led by Henry Fonda as Tom and Jane Darwell as Ma Joad, his mother. John Carradine plays Casy, a preacher who has lost his faith and who gets involved in organizing workers, only to meet a bad end. The rest of the cast is equally great, from John Qualen down to a young Darryl Hickman.

John Ford directs this powerful film, which shows on screen how bad things can get when the government fails to rein in the captains of industry. As I watched, I lamented the lack of serious, popular movies being released today; the only one I could think of in recent years to tackle social justice themes like this was One Battle After Another. I prefer the old films, which value storytelling and acting over curse words and graphic sex and violence.—Jack

Remarks from the Gallery:

Peter: I was forced to watch The Grapes of Wrath in 8th grade English and loved it. This one still packs a hell of a wallop. Henry Fonda seemingly could do no wrong.

John: Haven't seen Grapes of Wrath, haven't read Grapes of Wrath, so nothing more to add there. But I do take umbrage at the claim that contemporary films don't value storytelling and acting, and are only about sex and violence. I can only imagine such a claim coming from someone who avoids watching contemporary films, or somehow only manages to see bad ones. I personally would never discount a film with a good story and great acting just because it happens to contain sex and violence. And I also don't assume a film with sex and violence can't have a good story or great acting. I love a lot of old films, and would never allow the occasional bad one to besmirch my opinion of all the rest. I'll just leave my soapbox here in case I need it later.

Poltergeist (1982) 

Starring: Craig T. Nelson, JoBeth Williams, Heather O'Rourke

Directed by Tobe Hooper

"They're here."

Another classic from the amazing moviegoing year of 1982. A wonderful Jerry Goldsmith score, a fine cast (including the always entertaining, underrated James Karen), and some grand visual effects make this an extremely rewatchable film. 

Sure, it's a Spielberg production, so his sense of wonder is ever-present, but it does a disservice to the great Tobe Hooper to attempt to diminish his role in the making of the film. It has several great moments of terror, including everyone's favorite clown, and the ultimate "maggot ridden midnight snack" scene. And all because they just moved the tombstones... If you want to get upset about anything, the claims of it robbing its key plot point from Richard Matheson's Twilight Zone episode, "Little Girl Lost," are valid.—John

Remarks from the Gallery:

Peter: Yeah, this is a good one. It sure feels like Steve got behind the camera for a few of those shots. Lots of bright lights and people looking off at something incredible. Lots of kids doing kid things. Name me another Tobe Hooper flick that felt anywhere near this. But that's neither here nor there; Poltergeist is still a lot of fun. Maybe not Top 100 worthy but a good watch anyways.

Jack: I remember seeing this when it came out. It was fun. I probably watched it on VHS after that but I haven't seen it in ages.

Casino Royale (2006) 

Starring: Daniel Craig, Mads Mikkelsen, Judi Dench

Directed by Martin Campbell

"Bond... this may be too much for a blunt instrument to understand, but arrogance and self-awareness seldom go hand in hand."

I was one of those who questioned the casting of Daniel Craig. Guy just didn't have that look, y'know. Never mind that all the guys previously had the look and were making dogs. Well, there were a couple of decent Bond flicks post-Connery (On Her Majesty's Secret Service and Goldeneye and th-th-that's all, folks) but I couldn't tell you how many times I walked out of the theater after watching the latest one (and I kept going to see them! what was wrong with me?) thinking, "What the hell was the plot again?" and, "Wouldn't it be great if they'd find a writer who took this seriously?"

Anyway, like the lemming I was, I saw Casino Royale on opening weekend and loved it. Went back and saw it the following week. I loved Connery but I never believed he would kill a guy in cold blood. He got all the girls and always escaped the fancy gizmos the bad guys aimed at him but he was a good looking, well-mannered British spy. Craig is exactly how M describes him: deranged. Maybe psychotic. He sure looks like he's having a good time with his first kill in the men's room scene that opens Casino. He looks and acts like a dangerous killing machine.

In addition to Craig, there are a lot of other plusses: Mads Mikkelsen's Le Chiffre is a great villain, sinister but vulnerable. How about the fact that Le Chiffre doesn't even die by Bond's hands? There's no protracted chase up a snowy mountain or flight into a volcano. He's shot in the head by another bad guy! Vesper (Eva Green) is one of the best of the "Bond Girls" but adds so much more to the plot than eye candy. She dies in a really nasty way but her influence lives on; it could be argued that the Craig-starring films that follow evolve around Bond's obsession with Vesper. The card game scenes are riveting and unpredictable. 

The best is saved for last. The new 007, standing over who will become his latest kill, dressed to the nines, uttering those famous words and eliciting goosebumps from all who hear them: "Bond, James Bond." Cue the theme.—Peter

Remarks from the Gallery:

Jack: I liked this movie a lot when it came out and I may have even watched it again on DVD. The Craig series of Bond films was odd in that one and three were great and the rest were awful. The last one was so bad that it soured me on the whole series. I still prefer Roger Moore.

John: My first Bond was For Your Eyes Only, and based on that, I would have been happy to call it my last. But a friend was a fan, so I got to experience Octopussy in the theater as well. And it didn't change my opinion. If Roger Moore had anything to offer, it was long gone by then, and it soured me on the franchise for years. I think my next Bond was Goldeneye, and I didn't even dip into the Connery films until the early 2000s, when I decided to give the entire series a watch. I stalled out in the Moores, I'm sure to no one's surprise. Well, maybe Jack's. So, when Casino Royale landed, I didn't have any issues with Craig in the role. And I thought he was great. The film was gritty and lacked the silly gadgets and gizmos (and his run did a good job with that until it reached its fourth installment, the low point in an otherwise spectacular series). I just caught CR again on the big screen on James Bond day, and loved it just as much as I did the first time. Eva Green, Mads Mikkelsen, Judy Dench, Jeffrey Wright, and Giancarlo Giannini are all fabulous in it. Seeing it has inspired me to revisit the Craig series one more time, even the dip in quality that Spectre brings, right through the epic conclusion of No Time To Die, which I assume my not carrying decades of Bond baggage allowed me to enjoy. While none of the Craigs made it into my Top 100, a couple, including this one, were certainly contenders.

Cry-Baby (1990)

Starring: Johnny Depp, Amy Locane

Directed by John Waters

"You've made me the happiest juvenile delinquent in Baltimore!"It’s not easy being a juvenile delinquent in Baltimore in 1954! Cry-Baby hangs out with the Drapes at Turkey Point but falls in love with Allison, a pretty girl who hangs out with the Squares at the R.S.V.P. Charm School. Allison is drawn to the handsome biker but her Square boyfriend and her prim and proper aunt stand in the way. Will these two star crossed lovers be able to find happiness together?

I had to include a John Waters film in my Top 100 and Cry-Baby is my favorite. It had me from the first scene, where all the teenagers are lined up in the school gym to get vaccinated. The cast is a riot—Johnny Depp was born to play Cry-Baby and Amy Locane is perfect as Allison. But it’s the rest of the cast members who really crack me up, from Traci Lords as one of the Drapes to Patty Hearst (yes, that Patty Hearst) as her mother!

What really makes the movie work are the musical numbers, where Waters contrasts the cool, rockabilly style of the Drapes with the corny, Doo Wop style of the Squares. It’s clear that Waters loves the time period and the look; it’s as if he sat down and made a list of everything he could think of that typified the mid-fifties and then found a way to get it all into the movie. It’s a love letter to mid-century Baltimore and a satire at the same time.

I saw this in a theater when it came out and it always stuck with me. I just watched it again and guffawed my way through it. One highlight is when Cry-Baby tells Allison about his late father, the Alphabet Bomber, who blew up places in alphabetical order—the airport, the barber shop, the car wash, the drug store… Oh, and the bass player in Cry-Baby’s band is reading an early issue of Tales to Astonish in one scene, despite the fact that that comic wouldn’t be published for another six or seven years! All is forgiven. We all know that only the mentally deficient read comic books and they lead to juvenile delinquency!—Jack

Remarks from the Gallery:

Peter: I don't think I've ever seen a John Waters flick. The sheer eighties-ishness of this would have screamed "Stay away!"

John: I seem to recall seeing A Dirty Shame, because I like Chris Isaak but I've otherwise pretty much avoided the work of John Waters, as it's not my cup of tea (and I think by now I've demonstrated a pretty wide range of tea-drinking). I'm still trying to wrap my head around a John Waters flick showing up on Jack's list!  

Burnt Offerings (1976) 

Starring: Oliver Reed, Karen Black, Anthony James

Directed by Dan Curtis

"God when it comes alive - tell them, Brother. Tell them what it's like in the summer."

Dan Curtis's crowning achievement and the source of the single most frightening image I have experienced in a film. Absent are the cheesy soap opera elements that often plagued Dark Shadows and low-budget limitations of several of his telefilms. Burnt Offerings features an amazing cast—arguably the best assembly of Curtis's career, delivering my favorite scary haunted house story. I read and enjoyed Robert Marasco's source novel (after having seen the film), but I honestly feel that William F. Nolan improved upon it, particularly the ending. Even composer Robert Cobert rises to the occasion, providing haunting melodies and one of the greatest music box themes to appear in a horror film.

Oliver Reed and Karen Black are great as the married couple hired to be caretakers (along with their son and an aunt, played wonderfully by Bette Davis) of a luxurious home (the Dunsmuir Mansion in Oakland, California, later famous for being Morningside Mortuary in the original Phantasm). Of course, the deal was too good to be true and we soon find out why, as the family begins to fall apart, while the house... well...

Much like Trilogy of Terror, with its indelible image of the Zuni Fetish doll, Burnt Offerings features a similar visual icon that stuck with almost every viewer who saw it, in the form of a chauffeur first introduced in a black and white flashback, played by the late, great, character actor Anthony James. I sang his praises when discussing the Unforgiven, but it was this role that not only seared his image, but also his name, into my memory forever. As an aside, I was so taken by his performance and his ability to send chills up my spine with just a simple smile that I decided, years later, to seek him out, with the intention of interviewing him for the original incarnation of bare•bones (as part of a never fully developed series on pivotal horror influences called "Giving Me The Creeps"). When I came home one day to hear a gentle voice on my answering machine saying, "Hello John... this is Anthony James," I nearly flipped out. I ended up speaking to him for about an hour, having a wonderful time explaining how much his work had impacted me and learning about his second career as a fine artist. He sent me a signed copy of a book of his paintings, and he arranged for me to get a private pre-opening viewing of a gallery show of his artwork in San Francisco. Sadly, he didn't come to town for that, so we never met in person. Our closing up shop with bare•bones prevented me from finishing the piece, but I will always have fond memories of our brief interaction. And despite his kind and generous demeanor, I still get a little chill whenever I see that smiling chauffeur.—John

Remarks from the Gallery:

Peter: I thought fersure this would be higher on your list. I saw this three or four times at the Almaden Twin (wish I could remember its co-feature at the time) and it creeped me out every time. But then anything with Bette Davis generally creeps me out. The pool scene, in particular, is a highlight.

Jack: I mainly remember this for an old Bette Davis and something to do with a swimming pool. It's been awhile.