PHENOMENALITY: *uncanny*,
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *sociological* I know next to nothing about Rocambole, an adventurer who first saw life in French newspaper serials of the mid 19th-century. He's sometimes been cited as "the first superhero," but I don't find that he had either a costume or special powers, beyond maybe some stage-magic. I don't think the Mexican filmmakers behind this film, the second of two directed and co-written by one Emilio Muriel in 1967, knew anything about the original character either. I think it's pretty likely that they just seized upon a public-domain character who had a little cachet in Europe and molded him into a longjohn-wearing hero to profit off the popularity of '66 BATMAN. Unfortunately, ROCAMBOLE VS. THE SCORPION SECT-- which had a subtitled copy on YouTube-- is mostly so dull that it makes the '68 Mexican BATWOMAN look good. The opening isn't bad. Rocambole (Julio Aleman) is seen in his stage-identity of performing magician "The Hindu," but as soon as the act is done, he confers with his female assistant and changes into cape and cowl. Rocambole invades a private residence looking for evidence on an embezzler. However, a new villain anticipates the hero's move and ambushes him. The villain's thugs (including German Robles of NOSTRADAMUS fame) take the hero to a theater and sit him down as their master, The Scorpion, seeks to persuade Rocambole to join the sect. Seems the Scorpion-- who talks remotely through a dummy of himself-- has been knocking off various political figures to sow chaos. Rocambole nobly refuses the offer and leaps up to do battle-- fortunately, because the seat he was occupying suddenly surges with fatal electricity. The thugs and their master escape and then-- about an hour of dull talking-head scenes ensues. Rocambole confers with his lady-love henchgirl and a short male aide, the comedy relief of the movie. Rocambole tries to persuade two or three political figures of their peril, but they get killed anyway, one by a poisonous scorpion. Rocambole gets helped out of danger by a police confidante once, but it's a really dull scene. Only toward the end does the sluggish action pick up a bit. Rocambole in his secret ID has to be hospitalized for an injury, and the Scorpion sends a karate-chopping female nurse to assassinate the hero. Surprisingly, the battle lasts a good three minutes before Rocambole wins. But after that, there's just a few more routine confrontations before the Scorpion and his agents are defeated. SCORPION's got zero sting, except for completists of the period's superhero films.
PHENOMENALITY: *uncanny*
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *comedy*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *psychological* The sole virtue of this Mexican "old dark house" comedy is that it was so mediocre, I don't have to spend a lot of time on it. As with many of the American "odh" films, some rich geezer pops off and no one can inherit his filthy lucre unless all the heirs spend considerable time at the geezer's spooky old mansion. While residing at the old dark house, people disappear and/or get killed. Unlike most American "odh" flicks, which usually alloted only one or two characters to be the comedy relief figures, most of the heirs in VAMPIRE are goofballs of one type. Maybe this could have worked if the filmmakers had been able to be even a tenth as clever as the makers of MURDER BY DEATH, shooting maybe for a funny version of TEN LITTLE INDIANS. But all of the principal cast members are completely unfunny. There are some briefly seen creepy figures, like a top-hatted vampire and some skeletons-- not to mention the spirit of the old geezer. He, however, isn't confined to the mansion, and even shows up at a couple of heirs' homes to urge them to show up to the reading of the will. This conceit is particularly bizarre when it's revealed that the geezer is not dead, that he managed all the creepy stuff with some vague technology and that all the "victims" who seemingly died are still alive. VAMPIRE has a few atmospheric moments that save it from being totally boring, but it's still only for cineastes obsessed with seeing all the available Mexican horror movies of the fifties and sixties.
PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical, sociological* The third and final season of AVATAR presents me with a puzzle of categorization. The entire series falls into a general category I term "juvenile epic fantasy," and though I've encountered a lot of magical fantasies aimed at younger audiences, Tolkien's HOBBIT is one of the few well-known attempts at putting a juvenile spin on epic fantasy. That book then begat the author's more adult take on the same subject matter in LORD OF THE RINGS. AVATAR does not attempt to build a world as rigorous as that of Middle-Earth, but the series does utilize the dominant tropes of epic fantasy, depicting extensive conflicts between armed opponents, usually if not universally willing to fight to the death.
In THE HOBBIT Tolkien does not depict violent death as fulsomely as he does in LORD OF THE RINGS, but death is a reality in Middle-Earth. The creators of AVATAR, however, sought to convey epic fantasy into a cartoon dominantly aimed at older children, and AVATAR dodges that reality by chronicling large-scale violent conflicts between the rival nations of its fantasy-world without showing people die. I speculate that the producers knew that the parental units of their child-audience would have issues with a lot of dead bodies. I don't fault the producers for fine-tuning their product for young sensibilities. But sometimes the elision of death from the AVATAR world brought about some disjointed storytelling.
For instance, it's quite possible, even in juvenile fantasies, to allude to the deaths of major characters that occurred offstage. This seems to be the case with siblings Katara and Sokka, who as early as Season One were said to have lost their mother when agents of the Fire Tribe invaded the Water Tribe. Little is said about the mother's death until an episode in Season Three, wherein Katara gets the chance to find the man who caused her mother's death. This episode flashes back to Katara's childhood, and we see the child witness her mother in her tent, facing off against the Fire Tribe's general. The mother tells little Katara to run get her father. But by the time father and child get back to the tent, both mother and general are simply gone. Evidently the producers not only didn't want to traumatize audiences with even the implication of a dead body, they also weren't willing to imply that the character had been atomized by the general's fire-powers. Yet throughout the episode Katara is always totally certain that her mother is dead, in order to set up the story's conflict as to whether Katara will take vengeance on the villain. To say the least, her decision not to do so seems a foregone conclusion, since approving vengeance would be the wrong lesson to teach children.
Because it's not really feasible for any of the show's four main heroes to kill, even in self-defense, the season's central conflict is weakened. The plot-action set up in Season Two has the Avatar's allies seeking to attack Fire-Lord Ozai, the ruler responsible for his tribe's continued path of conquest, at a time when he and his tribe will be vulnerable. The attack fails, which helps stoke the audience's anticipation for the climax. Only Aang, once he's master all four bending-skills, can possibly counter Ozai at the height of his powers and prevent the world's conquest. But Aang was trained to be a pacifist, and the idea of killing revolts him. Ozai's son Prince Zuko makes his peace with Aang's group in Season Three and even provides the Avatar with the final step in his training. But Zuko himself sees no other way for Aang to triumph without killing. The writers do come up with a feasible way for the main hero to win without wreaking death, but still, the outcome seems somewhat forced. Parenthetically, I'll add that I never thought Ozai came "alive" as a heavy-hitting villain, and that Zuko's sister Azula provided the series with much more lip-smacking menace.
In my review of Season Two, I noted that in the episode "The Guru" Aang's training in a yoga-like discipline was interrupted by his need to rescue his friends, much like a similar episode in Luke Skywalker's career during the EMPIRE STRIKES BACK movie. I wondered if the abortive training would have any more consequences to the hero's overall mission than it did for Luke in RETURN OF THE JEDI, and the short answer is, no, it does not. One episode, though, provides a minor rationale to justify Aang's course of action, as a mystic forbear instructs Aang that it's his duty to forego spiritual enlightenment in order to save the world. This works out pretty well for Aang, who has no real desire to be an anchorite, and does end up "getting the girl" as a reward for his salvific act.
For that matter, the series concludes with Sokka getting a girl as well, though Toph, the late entrant to the group, really has no satisfying arc to end her adventure. I don't really think that any of the disjointed storytelling reduces the overall entertainment value, though. Interestingly, though I've suggested some drawbacks to the juvenile mode of epic fantasy, AVATAR as a whole viewing experience excels both in character-moments and in the choreography of both individual "bending-battles" and large-scale spectacle. Frankly, I cannot think of another animated TV show that even touches AVATAR in terms of action, with the exception of the 1990s BATMAN cartoon. I was occasionally frustrated by how often the producers felt it necessary to work in "comedy episodes" to palliate any downer-vibes from the heavier drama-episodes. But this arguable failing was certainly not one limited to juvenile shows, since I've frequently observed the same pattern in fantasy-shows aimed at adults, such as both XENA WARRIOR PRINCESS and BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER. Lastly, as for episodes with a high level of mythic discourse, only "The Firebending Masters" scored this time.
PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical, sociological* Season Two is a considerable improvement over Season One, though the more intricate plots would not have been possible without the scaffolding provided by the earlier episodes. This season also has twenty episodes, all under the rubric "Earth," since the trio's main mission is to find an earth-bending master able to bring forth Aang's talents in that department.
In Season One the viewer didn't see very many scenes of Aang being trained in water-bending by his female companion (and possible romantic interest) Katara. The same pattern prevails in Season Two with respect to Aang's earth-bending trainer, the young blind girl Toph. Whatever training Toph gives Aang is mostly off-camera, because when she joins the group, her main purpose is to shake up the ensemble character-wise. Whereas Katara's brother Sokka provided (and continues to provide) comedy relief with his sarcastic remarks and foolish antics, Toph has a more caustic attitude, despite being no older than the rest of the teens. Because of her blindness, Toph's royal parents sought to shelter her from the world, though her earth-bending talent gives her a "sixth sense" to perceive her surroundings in a general manner. She joins Aang's group in part because she supports their cause, but also in order to enjoy a life of adventure. Because she, unlike the other three, was raised as an aristocrat, she's occasionally able to help them negotiate social situations outside their experience.
One such situation involves mustering other tribes to carry the fight against the Fire Tribe. The foursome spend a lot of time in Season Two seeking to gain the help of the Earth Kingdom, which means that they have to oust an oppressive "grand vizier" type at the same time. For a time, they're spared the pursuit of Prince Zuko, whose obsession with the Avatar dims thanks to the benign influence of his uncle (voiced by the actor Mako in one of his last roles). However, Zuko's power-hungry sister Azula, only seen a few times in Season One, becomes a major player. With the help of two talented female confederates, she also infiltrates the Earth Kingdom. She also finds Zuko and plays on his filial responsibilities, so that he joins her in a big climactic assault upon Aang's group.
Two episodes stand out as more mythic than the rest of the season. It's often not clear to what extent the human inhabitants share their world with mystical entities, but the episode "The Library" is an exception. Sokka persuades the others that they need more historical perspective on the Fire Tribe, so they seek a unique library, overseen by a talking owl-man, Wan Shi Tong. At the library Sokka does learn of a comet due to pass the world, one that will bestow great power on the fire-benders and give them total dominion. In addition, he learns that the Fire Tribe also has a vital weakness-- but the owl-man takes exception to their using his precious tomes to gain military advantage. The heroes just barely escape the library with their lives, but by coincidence desert raiders abduct the sky-bison Appa, bringing all sorts of heartache to the teens, particularly Aang, until they eventually find their beloved pet. Thanks in part to Appa, the quartet make contact with a guru named Pathik. Though Aang has not yet mastered fire-bending, which is necessary for his ascension to Avatar status, he's had some bad experiences whenever he assumed an incomplete Avatar state, resulting in his going berserk. Pathik puts Aang through a series of exercises based on the yoga-discipline of "opening chakras," and while these exercises are partly made-up for the purposes of this fantasy-world, the writers kept a basic sense of the symbolic associations for the seven power-centers of the body. In fact, when Aang reaches the highest center, he's required to renounce his earthly affections, much like Luke Skywalker in THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK. Luke interrupts his training but doesn't really pay a price for this failure. Aang loses a battle at the end of Season Two, but I don't yet know if there's a more long-range penalty to come in the third and final season.
MYTHICITY: *good*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *drama*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *psychological, sociological* In my review of Victor Hugo's original novel, I wrote: "Hugo is sometimes linked with the artistic movement called "Romanticism," but I don't think HUNCHBACK is a Romantic novel, as are both MOBY DICK and FRANKENSTEIN. It contains larger-than-life scenes that everyone with a basic education knows, like Quasimodo's public flogging and the mercy shown him by his sort-of victim Esmerelda, and the hunchback's dramatic rescue of Esmerelda from the hangman's noose. But HUNCHBACK also contains reams of incredibly prolix prose, as Hugo burns up space descanting on the foolishness of the Parisians, from the highest to the lowest. Hugo acts as if he thinks he invented satire, with the result that most of the other characters are superficial. HUNCHBACK is one of those rare novels which has become a sort of secular literary myth, at least in the sense that most people have at least a broad knowledge of its contents. Yet Hugo's mythopoeic powers are at odds when his didactic ones."
For me, the 1939 film adaptation successfully adapts the Romantic elements of Hugo's novel and either downplays or elides the many ironic elements that, in my opinion, worked against the larger-than-life spectacles and emotional intensity of Hugo's basic situation. I'm sure that, given that Hollywood generally prefers happy endings to unhappy ones, scriptwriters Sonja Levien and Bruno Frank were probably tasked with giving this HUNCHBACK a moderately upbeat outcome, somewhat akin to the conclusion of the 1923 Lon Chaney Sr adaptation. But Levien and Frank seem to have been given broad cachet to retool other aspects of the novel to highlight themes important to 1939 moviegoers. The idea of societal progress through education, which is of dubious merit in Hugo, is one of the main themes, and was almost certainly a response against the rise of fascism in Europe, given some of the biographical history of Sonja Levien. None of the film's triumphalism does anything to anneal the dark tragedy of the Notre Dame bell-ringer Quasimodo, of course. But in the 1939 HUNCHBACK, idealism counterpoints irony, rather than being overwhelmed by the latter. 
Said villain Claude Frollo (Cedric Hardwicke) is more or less true to his prose model even though he's demoted from his position of Notre Dame's archdeacon to the more secular position of chief justice. His brother Jehan, who's no more than a wastrel in Hugo, gets promoted to Notre Dame's archbishop, presumably because the producers did not want to antagonize religious moviegoers. In the resultant script, the Church is just as much a friend of progress as the liberalized Louis XI, and most of the societal evil comes from the rampant cruelty of the common folk. Still, Frollo's sexual obsession with Esmerelda is true to the book, and the script even gives Frollo a little more development than Hugo did. 
Of all the characters, though, Quasimodo is the least changed, even though the progressive discourse of the script makes him more the victim of human ignorance than a victim of cosmic tragedy. Charles Laughton's spirited performance, despite his being impeded by heavy makeup, remains a tour-de-force that has not yet been equaled in film history. Every time Quasimodo is on screen, whether silently suffering on the pillory or dramatically rescuing Esmerelda from the hangman's noose, proves a captivating experience, with the result that every actor who shares the screen with Laughton-- particularly O'Hara--suffers by comparison. But as stated before, he benefits from a script that gives depth to his sufferings, and fine direction from William Dieterle that enhances the spectacle. This film, far more than Hugo's novel, is one of the greatest exemplars of the Romantic tradition.
PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *cosmological, psychological* Whatever the failings of the AVENGERS: EARTH'S MIGHTIEST HEROES series, it remains much more ambitious than this show, since HEROES attempted to adapt some of the more far-reaching comic-book storylines. Evidently that series could not be continued due to behind-the-scenes legal complications. So ASSEMBLE rebooted the avenging team, consisting of Iron Man (more or less the leader), Captain America, Thor, The Hulk, Hawkeye and The Black Widow-- in essence, reproducing the ensemble from the 2012 live-action film, except for the addition of rookie member The Falcon. One episode works in Ant-Man, though there's no explanation of how he related to any earlier adventures.
The new priority for ASSEMBLE was action, action, action, with just touches of characterization along the way, and (like the movie series) no soap-operatic plotlines. The writers were evidently free to cull villains from most of the Marvel Comics mainstream, so ASSEMBLE is the first animated appearance for such characters as The Mangog, The Super Adaptoid (this time portrayed as a mindless automaton whom Modok uses as his personal mecha), Justin Hammer, and Hyperion. Though Doctor Doom appears in three episodes, the primary villain for Season One is the Red Skull, whose strong presence makes up somewhat for his mediocre usage in the FIRST AVENGER film. In addition to Hyperion and Modok, the Skull also drafts into his Cabal the services of Attuma and Dracula, who in this incarnation looks like a Tolkienian elf-prince.
As for the heroes, most of their conflicts as they mess around Avengers Mansion involve one hero having eaten another hero's refrigerator stash, so no, no attempt at drama. A minor exception is "Hulked Out Heroes." In this story, Black Widow, who part-times with SHIELD, is instructed by Nick Fury to turn over any information she gets on ways to subdue the Hulk. Out of team loyalty, the Widow conveniently loses the coveted intel. The Hulk is often used to set up allegedly humorous situations, but at least in Season One, he remains a pivotal member of the team, in marked contrast to the way the character gets sidelined in the MCU's live-action movies. He never reverts to Bruce Banner, though, and no one in the super-team really has anything like a private life. To be sure, Falcon gets a sitcom-like episode in which his mom comes to visit the mansion, and the high-flying hero must beg his friends not to reveal his identity, because she thinks he's "just" a SHIELD agent. On the whole, the main heroes never go into any deep characterization, even by melodrama-standards. But it's a small blessing that none of them are actively bad in terms of their dominant traits, in contrast to the way the later MCU productions treated Hulk and Thor. So that's something.
PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *comedy*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *sociological* OUT OF SIGHT is so bad, its production history is interesting by comparison-- and that's just going on very basic info provided by IMDB. Both SIGHT's director Lennie Weinrib and producer Bart Patton were known mostly for acting prior to their collaboration on a modestly successful flick, BEACH BALL, which was an imitation of the popular "Beach Party" franchise by producer William Asher. This led to two other movies in a similar vein: WILD WILD WINTER and OUT OF SIGHT. I'm guessing SIGHT bombed, for Weinrib and Patton didn't collaborate again and mostly went back to acting. The script for SIGHT was also the first writing-credit for actor Larry Hovis, and he too didn't exactly prosper as a Hollywood scripter. Hovis may well have auditioned for the lead role of SIGHT, since main character Homer was not unlike the nerdy character Hovis played on the HOGAN'S HEROES series. Instead, the part went to Jonathan Daly, another actor who'd become known for nebbish-roles. But even actors more skilled at playing nebbish-types, such as Jerry Lewis, could never have got any mileage out of the Hovis script. Even the setup for Homer's attempt at heroics is clumsy. Beach-bunny Sandra (Karen Jensen) just happens to hear mysterious mastermind "Big D" plotting with his goons to bring an end to all rock-and-roll. She communicates this to her glasses-wearing gal-pal (Carol Shelyne), who for no damn reason sports the male name "Marvin." The two of them decide to seek the help of secret agent John Stamp, because as we all know, secret agents are just like beat cops. Stamp is unavailable because he was injured by his clumsy valet Homer, and when the girls mistake Homer for his employer, the doofus just rolls with it so that he can hang out with pretty girls.
Oddly, while most spy-spoofs would have no problem matching up a homely nebbish with a hot girl, Sandra's character is sidelined (she already has a beau) and glasses-girl Marvin becomes the female lead who keeps trying to spark the reluctant Homer. Big D hears that John Stamp is on his trail, and he doesn't trust his whole two henchmen (a little chatty guy and a big brute) to handle the famed agent. So he hires various female killers to go after the, uh, counterfeit Stamp. One of these is a motorcyclist, obviously a take on a similar female killer from THUNDERBALL, though the one in SIGHT needs the help of a bomb-tossing midget (Billy Curtis). Incidentally, a working title for SIGHT was THUNDER BLUNDER, but the producers probably figured out that a spoof of THUNDERBALL would cost too much money. It was easier just to do a beach-film with a lot of singers, whose records the producers could then seek to exploit through cross-marketing. The second female assassin (Wende Wagner from TV's GREEN HORNET) craps out in her attempt to off Homer. Big D then enlists his only real threat, a karate-chopping dame named Wipeout (appropriately played by an actress with a "threatening" name, Maggie Thrett). The scene in which Wipeout slams the incompetent Homer all over the place almost redeems all the rest of SIGHT's dullness, but of course Homer is saved from extinction by dumb luck. The last female, oddly named "Tuff Bod" (Deanna Lund from LAND OF THE GIANTS), is not an assassin but just Big D's henchgirl, and after Homer is captured by the mastermind's two goons (which I guess they should have tried at the beginning), the dumb henchgirl gets conned into letting Homer loose. This leads Homer and the rest of his merry band to foil the villain's plans, to destroy all of rock-and-roll by using a disintegrator ray to destroy-- well, just one band of performers.
As stated earlier, I think the producers' main aim was to sandwich in as many musical performers as possible for marketing purposes, but none of the acts struck me as memorable. Daly's pretty terrible, the villain sucks, and the cute girls don't have enough screen time. The sole exception to this generalization is Carole Shelyne, who proves quite charming despite the script's attempt to characterize her as "homely" because she wears glasses. It's a little amusing to see her pursuing the genuinely homely Daly, and she gets the film's best joke, becoming jealous when Homer tells her he was beaten up by another woman. The ending is weird without being funny. Homer gets ejected by a gimmick in Stamp's spy-car and ends up on a motorcycle with a blonde lady-- except that the "lady" is John Stamp in drag. It's hard to believe that working professionals came up with a comedy this unfunny.
