Monday, June 6, 2022

THE PHOENIX (1981)

 






PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *good*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *drama*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *metaphysical*

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

I remember liking the PHOENIX pilot-film back in the day, but not until re-watching it did I spot the covert myth-theme suffusing the narrative. Suffice to say that although film and television are full of heavy-handed examples of the Imitatio Christi trope, PHOENIX is one of the few that subtly mixes Christian tropes into a story that's being sold with New Age imagery.

Of course, parts of the narrative are more successful than others. The movie begins with a long panning shot over a frozen landscape-- presumably the area where the titular Phoenix will be found-- while a voiceover states that, "When the gods were very young, seeing that men lived like wild animals, they took pity on them, and sent to Earth a child of theirs so that he might teach men knowledge of the greatest of all gods." Nothing more is said about any "greatest of all gods," but from the lectures that the main character later gives to a disciple, one might say that it's actually "the god within" every human. More on that later. The voiceover's Christ-parallel seems obvious enough, though at least the narrator doesn't say that "the child" is the only begotten son of these deities. We never know anything about "the gods," though they're implicitly "ancient astronauts" whom early mankind mistook for divinities in the well worn tradition of Erich Von Daniken. One assumes that the "child" must have been sent to Earth in antiquity to become some sort of culture-hero, or perhaps even several culture-heroes, since a well-traveled astronaut might explain the parallels between, say, Egypt and Meso-America. But if one doesn't want to dwell on a Big Explanation for these parallels, they're only emphasized at the film's beginning, while the bulk of the film focuses on its combination of Christian and New Age tropes into its main character Bennu (Judson Scott). 

Following the voiceover, we see two of the main supporting-characters, archaeologist Dr. Fraser and Diego DeVarga, meet in some part of "Latin America"-- which we know because DeVarga is said to be with the "Latin American Department of Antiquities." (Call me cynical, but somehow I doubt that one would ever find such a department straddling even two Latin American countries, much less all of them.) Right away, it's made clear that DeVarga is very overprotective of a recent discovery on his turf-- later said to be Peru-- as if he's afraid that the norteamericanos are going to steal it. Together the two experts investigate an unearthed burial chamber that suggests both Aztec and Mayan motifs. A sarcophagus bearing the name "Bennu" recites the Egyptian legend of the Phoenix, the bird that renews itself from its own ashes, with which both experts are familiar. Yet they don't seem to know that "Bennu" is one translation of the Egyptian word for the great bird, which the Greeks rendered as "Phoenix." Despite DeVarga's reluctance to have the sarcophagus shipped out of his country, he concedes that only in the U.S. can one find equipment sophisticated enough to analyze this valuable find.

As a result of that investigation, the sarcophagus opens, revealing the undecayed form of a tall blonde humanoid, wearing an amulet with a Phoenix symbol. In due time the humanoid, Bennu by name, revives on his own, gets up and leaves.

In the New Testament Christ first choice for one of his twelve disciples is the apostle Andrew. Bennu's first ally is an allotype for Mary Magdalene-- or, to be precise, the popular conflation of the original Biblical figure with the unnamed prostitute of Luke Seven. Not that photographer Noel Marshall (Shelley Smith) is a fallen woman as such, but her first statement on seeing Bennu exit the hospital is, "Big, blonde and barefoot, just the way I like 'em." There's not a lot of time devoted to her concupiscence, but her redemption is important to the storyline. She takes Bennu to her house because he tells her he may perish if he has to remain in the city, exposed to its toxins and separated from the healthy oxygen of plant life. 

Noel also learns that Bennu has many psychic talents-- telepathy, telekinesis, and precognition-- which powers are channeled though his phoenix-form amulet. He also exudes some mysterious charisma, for while Noel and Bennu are at the beach, a young boy named Tim is curiously drawn to Bennu's presence. Tim stopped speaking and hearing after his father went MIA overseas, to the great frustration of his natural mother and her new husband. Tim's parents naturally steer the child away from the mysterioso blonde man.

Bennu needs materials to help him cope with the atmosphere of big cities, and so he has Noel contact Fraser, presumably because at some point the spaceman read Fraser's mind and decided he was a good guy. Fraser is guilted into helping ("I did not ask to be awakened... you woke me, you disturbed my rest, now accept some responsibility for my life!")

Fraser agrees to keep Bennu's location secret from the government, but he can't finance everything the alien needs. Thus Bennu, much like a character in a seventies Disney comedy, uses his powers to make some fast cash at a crooked gambling establishment. The crooked gamblers take exception to being rooked as they rook others, so they try to get their money back, forcing Bennu to use his powers in self defense. However, in an unusual twist, Bennu doesn't simply defeat the gangsters. Instead he fakes the destruction of himself, Noel and the money by blowing up Noel's car. 

To be sure, Bennu doesn't come off as very Christ-like in this section, pissing off Noel with his precipitate actions (which also include his having destroyed all the photos she took of him). His responses are enigmatic: "I can't be the thing that makes your dream happen" and "I can help you find your way out of the desert." He also begins talking as if there's some grander plan in his resurrection, even though earlier he thought it mere accident, and he says the same again later to DeVarga. Noel gets tired of the enigmas and complains about how her feet hurt-- so Bennu rubs them, maybe a little more erotically than Biblical women (like Luke's sinful woman) tend to the feet of the Messiah. (This is a good place to remember that Noel is the French word for Christmas, traced down from the Latin word for "birthday," natalis.)

Bennu still needs help, so he has Noel reach out to Doctor Fraser. Fraser makes the mistake of confiding in an assistant named Judas (not really, but he might as well be so named). The assistant informs DeVarga of Fraser's communication with the missing spaceman, and DeVarga insists that when Bennu is captured he must be returned to Peru. Meanwhile, though Tim's parents intend to keep the boy away from the weird guy, Tim feels the call and runs off to find Bennu at his refuge. Later, Bennu will admit that he psychically guided Tim, knowing that only he Bennu could heal the boy's sick heart.

Before Tim arrives, Bennu drops yet more vague hints about his mission on Earth, saying that had he been resurrected a hundred years from this time, he would have fit in "like a key in a door," but that he also thinks his revival has something to do with "the balance of nature." He and Noel almost make a love connection, but Tim shows up. So Bennu heals this troubled second disciple by telling that he can survive the demise of his father if he understands that everyone is connected by the "pure gold light" within their hearts. But Tim's parents and a local cop track Tim to the refuge, and the cop shoots Bennu. Bennu, believing he's about to die, magically transfers his amulet to Tim, which I for one view as a parallel to the healing powers Jesus gives to his disciples in Luke and in Matthew.

Bennu is taken to a hospital, but he's able to completely heal himself even without the amulet. In a key scene, DeVarga visits Bennu, claiming that this treatment stems from "ignorance," as in "they know not what they do." But Bennu is offended that DeVarga thinks that Bennu belongs to his people simply because they've built traditions around him. "A handful of soil from an Iowa cornfield is the same as the dirt found in a South American plain; it's all sacred, and it belongs to itself; not to men!" Noel confesses that Bennu has redeemed her from the coldness in her heart, and Tim, able to speak again thanks to the alien's tutelage, permits the amulet to return to the still convalescent fugitive. Bennu magicks his way out of confinement but depends upon Noel and Tim to get him clear in Noel's vehicle. DeVarga and local cops pursue.

Since this secular Christ doesn't die, a substitute must be found. Noel, desperate to help Bennu escape, ignores his command to avoid a big truck, and runs her car off the road. Noel dies in a river while Tim is able to save himself by believing in the Light Within. As Noel dies, Bennu promises that she will "rise in flame and exist in me forever"-- though, because he's still more human than savior, he weeps when her physical form passes. The film ends with an earnest discussion between Bennu and Doctor Fraser about the isolated alien's "purpose" in the current world.

Though the TV-film pulled in enough viewers to justify a series, only four hour-format episodes were made before the plug was pulled. The series proper attempted to give Bennu a more precise backstory, asserting that a female astronaut might be sleeping on Earth, while another alien from Bennu's world became his Lieutenant Girard. I watched these episodes online and they certainly don't have as much mythopoeic richness, so there's not a great chance that more episodes would have made any difference. Of the two creators, Anthony and Nancy Lawrence, the former had been writing TV episodes since the late fifties, but the only notable works I spotted on his credit-list were two OUTER LIMITS episode. He and his wife Nancy did not collaborate as both writers and producers until the early eighties, and it seems likely that both were trying to gain a rep as full-time producers with THE PHOENIX and a couple of other series-TV creations. They don't seem to have been overly successful, but the pilot film for THE PHOENIX was a good beginning, helped not only by a strong script but also by Judson Scott's intense performance. 

Saturday, June 4, 2022

THE LION OF ST. MARK (1963)

 






PHENOMENALITY: *uncanny*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *sociological*

Unlike the majority of European "masked swashbuckler" flicks, LION OF ST. MARK benefits from what looks like a higher than average budget and more attention to the dramatic scenes by director/co-writer Luigi Capuano. Capuano had already worked once before with Gordon Scott in ZORRO AND THE THREE MUSKETEERS (which I tagged as a cheap Euro-adventure) and twice before with leading lady Gianna Maria Canale, who with Capuano made two female swashbuckler films in 1960 and 1962.

Set in Venice in the early 1600s, the city is under constant menace from pirates, led by their chief Titta (Alberto Farnese). For some reason Venice does not maintain its own standing army but relies on a group of mercenaries who have proven utterly incompetent. This sad state of affairs is demonstrated when the pirates brazenly raid a fancy party given by the upper classes and despoil many partygoers of their riches.

Attending the party is Manrico Masiero (Scott), a former soldier who's disgusted that the authorities don't defend their city with the native men of Venice. Manrico's father is grooming him for success in the diplomatic corps and has tacitly arranged a marriage between Manrico and stuck-up rich girl Isabella, who boasts to her friends about how she's going to "change" her future husband. The raid emboldens Manrico to take a crucial step: since he can't fight pirates as himself without angering the authorities, he dons a black mask (and sometimes an all-black outfit) to do so (with the help of other young blades of similar sympathies). He takes the name "Lion of St. Mark" because this Christian icon was then the symbol for Venice.

To be sure, anger isn't the only thing that results from the party-raid. It's at this event that Manrico spots Titta's attractive henchwoman Rosanna (Canale), though she doesn't notice him. When the Lion and his accomplices make their first attack on one of Titta's ships, the masked hero ends up sword-dueling Rosanna, who gives a good account of herself before being disarmed. Interestingly, in contrast to most masked swashbuckler movies, the heroine never shows the slightest interest in the Zorro-like protagonist.

Though Rosanna and Titta escape capture, Rosanna is later taken prisoner by the mercenaries. Their leader shows his scurrilous nature by threatening to torture his prisoner, so Manrico uses his authority to intervene. He also stages her escape, which causes Rosanna to look at him with different eyes. The two of them meet on the sly a few more times, with Rosanna explaining that she was raised with pirates and has never known any other life. While the romance elements are nothing strikingly original here, they also don't feel as if the writers are trying to get them over with as quickly as possible.

The action-elements are well executed as well, particularly a scene wherein Manrico's warriors scale the wall of a pirate refuge, and Scott is good in both of his roles. The final battle gets rid of both the pirates and the incompetent mercenaries and Rosanna is pardoned for a happy ending with Manrico.


DEATHSTALKER AND THE WARRIORS FROM HELL (1988)

 







PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical*


After the first sequel successfully ventured into comedy, the next entry in the Deathstalker franchise blundered back into basic adventure with a few comedic trimmings (possibly because the writer of Movie #1 came back for the second sequel). Thus the plot goes back to the old "hero and villain both pursue magical thingies" standard, but the titular hero, instead of being all Conan-broody like the hero of the first film, the newest performer in the role, John Allen Nelson, tries (and fails) to maintain a light tone like that of John Terlesky in DEATHSTALKER II.

As in the first film, Deathstalker is set on his magical-thingie quest by a wizard, one Nicias, who pops out of the story in the first sequence and pops back in toward the end. His participation provides explication but Deathstalker is given his magical thingie-- one of two magical stones-- by a princess who promptly gets killed. Though the hero doesn't want to be a hero any more than usual, somehow he gets roped into going after the other stone. This object is in the possession of the wizard Troxartas (Thom Christopher), who plans to use both stones to unleash an army of dead people, the "warriors from hell" of the title. (We do see some rather unprepossessing dead soldiers in the movie, but don't expect any major zombie-action in this curiously bloodless film.)

Since one princess is dead and can't provide the usual romantic interest, Deathstalker stumbles across her twin Carissa (Carla Herd), who eventually gets the idea, based on nothing, that the swordsman killed her sister. This might have generated a little tension in a better movie, but Herd is almost as lifeless an actor as Nelson. The only thing that works in her favor is that she unlike Nelson isn't required to get into sword-fights, so Nelson wins the badness contest thanks to his many incompetent emulations of bladesmanship.

Meanwhile, Troxartas-- whom Christopher plays as a bald, twitchy wizard-wannabe-- continually whines to his henchwoman (Terri Treas) about how his soldiers can't seem to find the magical stone. It's practically the polar opposite of Christopher's self-assured sorcerer in WIZARDS OF THE LOST KINGDOM three years previous. There's a vague subplot revealing that the wizard actually needs three stones to make his evil magic work, but the idea is utterly mishandled.

After a few adventures-- such as Deathstalker spending a night in the hut of a couple of potato-eating wild women-- he shows up at Troxartas's castle. He's betrayed by Carissa, imprisoned, and threatened with torture by the henchwoman-- which, given that Terri Treas is the only actor to give her role a little moxie, qualifies as the movie's only decent scene. But even Treas's scene is disappointing, since Nelson's Deathstalker is so unappealing that one may want to see him tortured-- and, sadly, the hero breaks free before he can suffer more than some mild burns.

There's also a group of rebels who intervene on Deathstalker's side to fight the wizard's soldiers, but these fight scenes too are dull, when they're not re-used footage. As if to emulate the final fight from the second film, wherein the protagonist duels a sorcerer who's also a swordsman, Number Three does the same thing here, but Christopher's almost as bad at fake-fighting as Nelson.

Though the first film isn't actually good even as basic sword and sorcery, at least the direction was nice to look at from time to time. But this film is not just cheap, it's unattractive to watch at any given time.

Thursday, June 2, 2022

DEATHSTALKER II (1987)

 








PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *comedy*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical*

Along with 1984's THE LOST EMPIRE, this sequel to 1983's DEATHSTALKER are the only movies from writer-director Jim Wynorski that I found diverting. Like his mentor Roger Corman, Wynorski had the ability to inject some fair humor into movies whose main appeal was T&A, but like Corman, Wynorski often neglected quality in favor of quantity.

DEATHSTALKER II has a major asset in that John Terlesky, the actor now playing the barbarian with the marquee-style name, is much better than the previous performer-- and that's allowing for the fact that Deathstalker's now being played for laughs. Hardly a minute goes by without a set-up for a joke, usually one rooted in intentional anachronism. It also helps that this time the barbarian has a lively sidekick. Princess Evie (Monique Gabrielle) has been kicked out of her own kingdom by evil swordsman-and-sorcerer Jarek (John La Zar), who's created a spirit-clone of Evie that's taken Evie's place. Nothing daunted, Evie takes the name Reena and slums around pretending to be an oracle. Then she comes across Deathstalker, recognizes his martial talents, and cons him into helping her without revealing her identity, promising only that she can lead him to a great treasure.

Meanwhile, a little extra narrative suspense is generated in that Jarek is trying to magically sever the connection between the two Evies, which prevents him from slaying the real princess. Because False Evie isn't a real being, she sometimes sucks the souls of hapless victims and mounts their withered faces on her wall.

The highlight of the dauntless duo's ramblings is that Evie and Deathstalker are captured by Amazons who resent the hero's reputation for seducing women. Deathstalker is forced to fight the Amazon champion in a regulation boxing-ring, and he spends about fifteen rounds getting slammed around by celebrity wrestler Queen Kong before he finally knocks her into dreamland. During this period Terlesky and Gabrielle generate a decent "here's another fine mess you got me into" vibe.

After the Amazon adventure, the film limps around for a while until reaching the big end-fight, in which the Amazons for no particular reason help Evie and Deathstalker vanquish the forces of Jarek. I should that even though this is a comedy, Terlesky does better with his brawling and swordplay action than his predecessor, with a standout fight against a tough swordswoman (Toni Naples). Even Gabrielle gets a few moments of action, particularly when she kills her impostor.

I suspect that the anachronism-jokes would not have played as well without the spirited performances of the two principal actors. However, I did like the toss-off bit where a villain is rattling off the names of his underlings, and one is called "John the Baptist" because he "specializes in drownings."

DEATHSTALKER (1983)

 




PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical*

There's some minor irony that this eighties series of barbarian adventure logged in twice as many installments as the official CONAN series. Of course the original barbarian would have bombed if he'd come out with cut-rate budgets like those of the "Deathstalker" flicks, but there are a few other cut-rate barbarians of the period that had a little more personality than the guy with the peculiar cognomen.

It is fitting that the character of the blockhead barbarian is perfectly matched by the bad acting of the actor playing him. Early in the film, Deathstalker (Rick Hill) happens across some evil soldiers harassing refugees, and he defeats them not because he's a Good Samaritan, but because they threaten to steal his horse. After the warrior has shown his skills, the leader of the refugees tells him that he is the former king of some local feif, recently conquered by the sorcerer Munkar. The king offers Deathstalker riches if he'll use his talents to infiltrate the kingdom and kill Munkar, and when the warrior thinks about it, Hill tries to look calculating, and ends up seeming like he's got indigestion.

Deathstalker refuses the king's request of remuneration-- fair enough. But in the next scene, he comes across an apparent old acquaintance, the witch Toralva, also being menaced by Munkar's men. After the witch and the warrior eliminate the soldiers, Toralva instructs Deathstalker that he needs to go find a magic sword to defeat Munkar-- and Deathstalker's like, "Okay, fine." This moment of narrative incoherence was easily my favorite part of the film, even though as an eighties flick there was good T&A service throughout.

So Deathstalker rather easily finds the sword after some confusing business with an ogre who transforms into a human thief. With this thief in tow, Deathstalker rides toward Munkar's kingdom, intending to participate in a great tournament as a cover for his assassination plans. On the way Deathstalker picks up two other warrior-buddies, one of whom is buxom swordswoman Kaira (Lana Clarkson). Kaira and Deathstalker have sex one night but it doesn't seem to foster any special feelings between them.

Meanwhile Munkar heaps degradation upon Princess Codille (Barbi Benton), daughter of the exiled king, dumping her into his harem but not immediately taking advantage of her. During the tournament Munkar seems to know all about Deathstalker and the magic sword, but he only takes one minor measure to get rid of the barbarian. He transforms an assassin into a duplicate of Codille in order to beguile the hero and kill him, but Deathstalker senses danger. Kaira ends up fighting the assassin and being killed, which is the closest the movie comes to some drama. Various tournament-fights burn up some more time until a climactic battle between swordsman and sorcerer.

The only good thing to come out of this boring opus is that Lana Clarkson earned a minor cult-status that led to a somewhat better sword-and-sorcery film, BARBARIAN QUEEN-- that, and the fact that the spoofy sequel was much more fun than this turd.




Wednesday, June 1, 2022

RAVEN TENGU KABUTO (1992)

 





PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *poor*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *sociological*

I read a handful of stories from the late eighties manga KABUTO. Originated by mangaka Buichi Terasawa, the series crossed the then-popular ninja-adventure genre with some basic Japanese mythology. I wasn't exposed to the animated TV series, but this stand-alone OVA was easily circulated to American shores in the nineties. I had seen it before but had no real memory of the item.

Subtitled "The Golden Eyed Beast," the story doesn't bother to tell the audience anything about Kabuto, the ninja hero who has some special powers from his membership in the ranks of the raven (or in some translations "crow") clan-- including the ability to sprout wings from his back and fly. The script just dumps Kabuto into the middle of a feudal quarrel, in which innocent Princess Ran has been captured by the forces of an evil demon incarnate, the often nude Madame Tamamushi. Kabuto attacks the demon forces, while another group tries to rescue Ran. There's a lot of running around and explosions and not much else. The script's level of historical commitment is shown by the fact that the demon-mistress has a "gadget-making" servant who whips up such items as helicopters, a robot elephant and a giant vacuum cleaner. 

Replete with shoddy TV animation and lame references to spaghetti western visuals, this OAV is at best a timekiller, and then only if you're in the mood for magical ninja hijinks.

COPYCAT (1995)

 





PHENOMENALITY: *naturalistic*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *drama*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *psychological*

Gill never inspires the "dread" that I look for in uncanny psychos, even of the mundane sort that appears in EYES OF A STRANGER. Everything about Gill, as well as his functional double Brummer, is easily explained by Freud's emphasis upon "physiological concepts," as Jung termed them.-- my review of NO WAY TO TREAT A LADY.

I didn't remember anything about COPYCAT since watching it in the nineties, except that it was a decent thriller. This time I watched to see which phenomenality, the naturalistic or the uncanny, the titular serial killer fell into. My quote above pretty much sums up the reason why the Copycat lacks the "dreadful" nature of the uncanny psycho. The only new wrinkle about the Copycat is that he doesn't just imitate a particular previous serial killer, he imitates a sequence of such killers from a particular citation. The Copycat has little personality of his own, having drawn much of his inspiration from an earlier murderer who was caught and imprisoned after he tried to slay the movie's real star, Helen Hudson (Sigourney Weaver).

The viewer also doesn't ever know much about Hudson's background: her life essentially begins as an adult criminal psychologist. One of her violent patients escaped prison and tried to kill her by hanging her in a restroom, and though Hudson survives to write best-selling books about psycho-killers, she was so traumatized by the incident that she became agoraphobic, barely able to stir from her San Francisco apartment. 

When a new serial killer with no clear pattern starts racking up bodies, though, Hudson can't resist calling the police to demand that they do something. Homicide cop Monahan (Holly Hunter) tracks Hudson down and asks her to consult on the case. Despite being dragged into the investigation kicking and screaming, it's clear Hudson wants to be involved-- at least partly because one of the killer's patterns suggests that of the man who tried to hang Hudson, though that psycho is still in prison.

The title more or less broadcasts the nature of the serial murderer, which may be the reason that the script doesn't spend much time on his background either, the better to play up Hudson's tics and emotional tantrums. Weaver is good in a role with possible links to the Jimmy Stewart cop in Hitchcock's VERTIGO, but there's not much substance here beyond the ways and means of serial killers. An opening sequence of Hudson lecturing a college class and making a comment about how most killers are white middle aged men isn't meant to be especially political, but from today's politicized standpoint it sounds like a condemnation from some benighted Progressive.