SO LONG, JOE CALDWELL

You penned an impressive, sixty-three episodes of Dan Curtis' Dark Shadows (including installments for the acclaimed, parallel timeline stretch) and (with Ron Sprout) created one of television's most phenomenal, pop icons, Barnabas Collins, as enacted by the amazing Jonathan Frid. 

You also contributed to Dark Shadows' Canadian counterpart, Strange Paradise, as well as The Secret Storm and the NBC Matinee Theater, allowing your work to enter our homes not only on a daily basis, but the span of years. (Additionally, you composed the captivating memoir, In the Shadow of the Bridge, which gave us an intimate insight into your fascinating life.) 

That you helped us escape our tedious realities is commendable, and for that, Mr. Caldwell, we owe you infinite thanks. Now, at Heaven's loving perch, may you partake the joy you gave us a thousandfold. 

TERRIFIC TEAM-UP IMAGE: SPIDEY VS ELECTRO

 

FAREWELL, KAYLEE HOTTLE

You left a big mark for one so small, and your compassion for Kong touched us all. 

May you find contentment beyond this world, Ms. Hottle, with adventures to rival even those in which you starred.👼

PINUP TIME: INGER STEVENS

DEAD CITY #3: IN ALLEGORICAL ANTICIPATION

The Walking Dead: Dead City, Season 3 is upon us. According to rumor, this may be the last in the Maggie/Negan (Lauren Cohan/Jeffrey Dean Morgan), spinoff run, leaving fans to anticipate a cataclysmic culmination. 

I liked the previous, western-oriented seasons (The Searchers slant having been rather winsome), and the same goes for the cowpoke themes embedded in the Daryl/Carol and Rick/Michonne ventures. I suppose I'll find the same flavor in the new Dead City, unless it implants an allegorical angle that goes against my moral grain. That I wouldn't like. 

This season creates a convenient, hop-and-a-skip launch into New York City, with a new character on board: Jimmi (Dark Matter) Simpson's Dillard, a bar-proprietor sidekick for Negan. Dillard looks prone to levity. Levity helps offset tension, and The Walking Dead is overloaded with that. 

In addition, NYC could (should) pave the way for an even grittier platform, if only per associative default, ala Escape from New York, though with zombies (as opposed to the general "crazies") and proxy, rancher-type villains (e.g. Zeljko Ivanek's Croat and his assorted acolytes). In the process, the plot might even reference rough-and-tumble, current events.

I live near NYC, which has been a devil's den for years on end and only continues to worsen. It's far more disturbing than anything featured in the Dead City trailers. (Without question, the locale epitomizes the term, "dead city.") If this season goes the metaphoric route, then it should emphasis the Big Apple's nurtured, moral-less debauchery, but if not, then why? Get my trepidation? (For what it's worth, AMC is dangling a carrot that something buried, though now revived, is set to infiltrate the content. Maybe that'll be this season's distinguishing trait.)

There's also that awkward, Maggie/Negan pact, which demands resolution. I still believe Negan should be done in (and if only for irony, by his beloved weapon of choice). Some claim that Glenn would be proud of Maggie for steering Negan in a positive direction, despite the latter having killed him and ol' Abe. I don't buy that. There's a point when things must turn full circle, a time when karma (though long delayed) is served. 

We'll see how it goes, good or bad, though good fortune is an accepted rarity on The Walking Dead. 

The Dead City, Season 3 premiere airs Sunday, July 26 on AMC. 

FOR THE FUN OF IT:

 

I SAW THE VAMPIRE LESTAT

AMC's The Vampire Lestat has concluded, and so, you ask, how did the culmination of its seven episodes strike me, or should that be, bite me (tee hee)? 

It drained me. That's what it did, and that's not a bad thing. I believe that was the intent. In that raucous regard, it tapped Stephen Herek's Rock Star as much as it did Anne Rice's novel. Sam Reid's bloodsucker needn't have been an eternal parasite to demonstrate the dangers of excess. All the same, the saga's ironic, audio-book confessional, "The Failures," was the ultimate anthem of unbridled, vampiric, Dionysus heedlessness. (Its "One More Pallbearer" finale only strengthened it.)

On this basis, the AMC version was sprung as an indisputable, hyperbolic impression (at best and most), with many impudent liberties taken. That's not a bad thing, either. It is what it is, in any event. I can't change that. Should I even wish to, considering (for one) how effective that witchy, left-field, Regina/Claudia angle was? Such also goes for Eric Bogosian's Daniel Molloy and his overbearing though absorbing modification, induced by Assad Zaman's manipulative (ordained-to-behead) Armand (a turn that only came toward the end of the Queen of the Damned novel, mind you). 

Indeed, these tweaks weren't Rice-ian in any loyal sense, but then nor has been Jacob Anderson's not-so-sensitive Louis de Point du Lac, a reinterpreted, discontented entity who lamented his outcast state far, far less than in his fledgling, pop-cultural years (and his outspoken angst even prevailed in a Brain That Wouldn't Die state). Blasphemous or ingenious? That's for the audience to decide and in that ambivalence, "Ay, there's the rub." 

The supporting (new-to-the-queue) cast is what won me over, as its recruits rattled the cage in ways I'd never dreamed: Christopher (Twilight/Hell on Wheels) Heyerdahl as Marius, Damien (Take This Waltz) Atkins as Magnus and Jennifer (John and the Hole) Ehle as Gabriella, Lestat's incestuous mom, and then there's the grandmommy of 'em all, Sheila (Mufasa: The Lion King) Atim's Akasha. 

Now, don't get me wrong. I do consider Aaliyah's take in Michael Rymer's movie to be closer to the book (or at least she was closer to the way I envisioned the character based on my disposition at the time), but Atim's version is a hyper-kinetic one that situates the Queen on a ferocious level, much more in tune with a horror semblance than the one introduced in the novel or the 2002 movie, where amatory, ancient enchantment is the rule of the day or, uh, make that, the night.

I believe it's Atim's facial quirks and her wild vocalization (full of frantic rhythm and rhyme) that sets her Akasha apart. I realize, too, that (as with the three-season jaunt so far) such may not meet everyone's approval, but then the same could be said of so many (re)visions pulled from a page, including Lugosi's debonaire countenance and Karloff's flat head and electrodes, and yet those results have plucked an iconic chord. I think Atim's deviating persona does the same or at least will, given time.

So, enough (for the moment) of Atim's Akasha. The show is Lestat, and Reid has soared high as the tyrannical de Lioncourt, more this time than before, which is saying a lot, considering how he excelled within the layering seasons. For his titular blast, his conniptions came straight from the bowels, and his impassioned (Theatre des Vampires-inspired) stage presence (so shameless and defiant) did an uncanny job channeling INXS' Michael Hutchence, with a few unavoidable nods to Jim Morrison. (It's odd that I'd never considered Hutchence as Lestat until this AMC incarnation, but I can see how he would have worked in the part, but why press the notion? For the here and now, it's not here nor there.) 

Overall, I believe the AMC Lestat was A-okay, even if long delayed. As I said in my June, warmup post, a Vampire Lestat movie should have been greenlit on the heels of Neil Jordan's Interview with the Vampire (and if that wasn't to be the case, due to Tom Cruise's reluctance to reprise the role, then the tardy Queen of the Damned should've at least spawned The Tale of the Body Thief, with Stuart Townsend continuing his flaxen-haired reign), but again, it is what it is, and it can't be changed. The AMC adaptation now paves a path for a new Queen of the Damned (one that's not missing certain, bridging precursors), and if Lestat's incensed psychedelia is instilled, I do believe all will be well with the allegorical, amoral world.🧛

FOR THE FUN OF IT:

 

SO LONG, FREDDY "BOOM BOOM" CANNON

You brought a heap of joy with your catchy tunes, including your most noted, "Palisades Park," composed by none other than Chuck (The Gong Show) Barris. 

There were other tracks that attracted audiences, as well, including "Cha-Cha-Do," "Way Down Yonder in New Orleans," "Tallahassee Lassie," "Humdinger," "Sweet Georgia Brown," "Muskrat Ramble," "Everybody's Rockin Tonight," "Twisting All Night" (with Danny and the Juniors), "The Sox are Rockin'" and the sprightly "Svengoolie Stomp."  

To perpetuate your musical career, you even contributed to The Food of the Gods knockoff, Village of the Giants. Pretty darn colossal in my book. 

There's no question that you fueled our pop-cultural dreams, uplifting our everyday lives with cannon-booming jubilation. You leave this mortal coil, Mr. Cannon, having touched our hearts with pure, rock-n-roll swing, and for that, we give our abiding, gyrating thanks.

FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE: THE ODYSSEY 1997

For your convenience, I've posted the YouTube links for Part 1 & 2 of Andrei Konchalovsky's Hallmark, 1997 miniseries adaptation of Homer's The Odyssey. Armand Assante portrays Odysseus, accompanied by a quality, supporting cast that includes Greta Scacchi, Christopher Lee, Isabella Rossellini, Eric Roberts, Venessa Williams, Nicholas Clay, Bernadette Peters, Irene Papas, Michael J. Pollard, Peter Woodthorpe and Geraldine Chaplin.  

Perhaps I'm remembering it wrong, but I believe this adaptation was as polarizing in its time as Christopher Nolan's remake is now, at least in regard to its big budget and hampering, TV restrictions. It's since become quite favored, and one can find more than a few respectful reflections on it in reviews for the 2026 redux. 

Anyhow, if you have the time ... Enjoy!

WISE WORDS:

 

THE ODYSSEY: A PAGEAU-IAN PERSPECTIVE

I came upon an interesting, video essay by Jonathan Pageau, of The Symbolic World, regarding Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey and how the adaptation is a ruse for a succession of cloaked motives. If anything (and above all), it made me realize that Homer's staggering account (The Iliad and The Odyssey combined) uses deceit as a means to an end.

For example, entering another's home, another's land, uninvited (perhaps by passing its border via a Trojan Horse) and assaulting its citizens for personal gain, is selfish, dishonest and therefore, criminal. In a similar vein, for Penelope's father-less (guideless) suiters to assume the right to besmirch her kingdom, to disrespect the queen and her prince with cruelty and disdain, is another such treacherous case in point. And lest we forget Odysseus and his men trespassing on Polyphemus' turf. (Odysseus even blinds the poor, colossal oaf.) Do these examples mirror (if only to an allegorical degree) practices and concerns within our modern backyards? Is that what Nolan hoped we'd catch or am I seeking a means to mend a politically-correct (mis)interpretation to my liking?

Since Pageau's bipartite theory haunted me, I was prompted to re-watch The Odyssey (not an easy task, mind you, considering its length and my extreme, time constraints). I'm still uncertain if Pageau's notion does, in fact, uncover a veritable, furtive purpose, whether by Homer or Nolan (or even if my subjective speculation holds viable weight), but I'm presenting it here, nevertheless, for one and all to ruminate. 

PINUP TIME (TERRIFIC TEAM-UP): INGER STEVENS IS SARAH

I SAW THE ODYSSEY (2026)

The proclamation of writer/director Christopher Nolan's adaptation of Homer's epic poem, The Odyssey, was greeted with great ardor (and an avalanche of pre-ticket sales), but as time progressed and footage (laced with its murmured, contemporary parlance, and debatable, diverse-to-a-fault casting) was revealed, concern ascended. As such, I did my best to remain receptive when viewing the completed product, and for the sake of this post, I hope to apply comparable objectiveness. 

For the record, this particular Odyssey captures ample aspects of Homer's The Iliad; and why not? The decade-long Trojan War is the catalyst for Odysseus' exhausting journey, one where he's required to enter battle, only then to endure the arduous voyage home. 

To jostle and extend Odysseus' cause-and-effect path, there are fierce and captivating characters to greet him, including Poseidon's cyclops son, Polyphemus; the illusory Calypso and Circe; anguished, swine-men; oversized, armored warriors; shadowy sirens; a hungry hydra, a trip into smoldering Hades; and general, backdrop terrain that's sometimes sprawling and sometimes craggy, all projected per IMAX's ubiquitous lens (secured by Hoyte van Hoytema's golden photography and Ludwig Goransson's psychedelic score). The culmination creates a mammoth reverie, not quite a Charles H. Schneer/Ray Harryhausen spectacle, mind you, but one with the same phantasmagoric intent. 

And as if to capture the glory of old Hollywood, the movie has quite a cast to back it, but the results necessitate several hits and misses, with some personas lingering and others fading fast. These personas consist of Matt Damon as Ithaca's King Odysseus; Anne Hathaway as Queen Penelope; Tom Holland as Prince Telemachus; Robert Pattinson as Antinous (the double-crossing pursuer of Penelope's hand); Corey Hawkins as Polybus (Antinous' short-fused henchman); Jon Berthal as King Menelaus of Sparta; Benny Safde as King Agamemnon of Mycenae; Elliot Page as Sinon (not Achilles, as some surmised and feared, but still the great warrior's understudy, albeit lifted from Virgil's The Aeneid); Lupita Nyong'o as both Helen of Troy ("the face that launched a thousand ships") and her twin, Clytemnestra; Charlize Theron as Calypso; Samantha Morton as Circe; Zendaya as Athena; Mia Goth as Melantho (Penelope's disloyal maid); Bill Irwin as the amazing, colossal Polyphemus; Himesh Patel as Eurylocus (Odysseus' brother-in-law and conscientious second in command); John Leguizamo as Eumaeus (a nurturing servant); Ryan Hurst as Mentor (whose name says it all) and Travis Scott as Demodocus (a bookending, rhythmic raconteur). There are many others, since this is a cinematic monument, with many participants required to populate its parts. 

Some of the performers I fancy (whether in this production or beyond it); others, not so much so, due to their absurdist pronouncements on any number of  topics. Also, it doesn't matter whom I prefer among the lot. I like to keep my posts a certain length, and to pick and choose the ups and downs of a cast this overwhelming would (I fear) take forever and a day, page upon page. Let's just say that I believe others will feel as I do when it comes to the personality juxtaposing. In addition, as far as who's-who ensembles go, this one might be weighty (and favorable to some for its DC/Marvel alignment), but it can't match the smooth, satisfying likes of The Ten Commandments (1956), The Longest Day, A Bridge Too Far, How the West Was Won, It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, Airport, The Poseidon Adventure (1972) or (dare I say?) The Odyssey 1997. The mismatched and polarizing semblances of Nolan's retelling could, in this regard, be the movie's aesthetic downfall: a big no-no for a broad fantasy or, for that matter, a grounded one. 

The choice of casting stems from an evident need to modernize The Odyssey (with the performers being the characters and not the performers becoming the characters), while at the same time, keeping the story stationed in its proper, ancient niche. Because of the stressed dynamic, it might be wise to perceive The Odyssey along the lines of Fellini Satyricon, Zack Snyder's 300 and/or Alejandro Jodorowsky's El Topo and The Holy Mountain: idealized, partial-anachronistic visions that have achieved a cult status. However, this categorization doesn't define other Nolan movies (prime cases in point being The Dark Knight Rises, Interstellar and Oppenheimer), where the substantial streams are seamless despite the inflation. The director's fans, therefore, are inclined to find The Odyssey a clashing, cinematic experiment that some will call "woke," due to its various, cultural appeasements, and some will call "conservative," due to Odysseus' tireless "work ethic." Either way, it's not one or the other, and so, how can it please either side, let alone both? 

Despite the conflict, the movie exudes certain sectional virtues, in particular when it reaches its anticipated, bow-and-arrow climax. As with Uberto Pasolini's The Return, Odysseus' strike-'em-down assault is well rendered, but it sure takes its meandering time to get there. This makes one wonder if the vengeful payoff is sweet enough for the final course, when that portion was adapted (and elongated) only a short time ago. (It's rather like comparing George P. Cosmatos' Tombstone to Lawrence Kasdan's Wyatt Earp, with the latter offering a condensed version of the former's O.K. Corral confrontation and with both historic examples released within close proximity.) 

With this (and prior observations) expressed, I'm uncertain if I can embrace The Odyssey's daring ambivalence. I'd need to revisit it to be certain, and believe me, I still want it to win me over. Right now, though, it feels like Craig Gillespie's Supergirl: not abysmal at every turn, though far from world-shaking. For my initial view, I'd hoped it would have taken me to another time and place, with my heart racing and my spirit soaring (much as I'd experienced as a kid when watching Mario Camerini's Ulysses with Kirk Douglas and Anthony Quinn). Instead, I came away an accidental tourist, peeking from margins that I wasn't invited to attend (ah, Disclosure Day once again). Yes, I still found worth in it (without any doubt, I did), but was the entirety worthwhile? Perhaps, the question is an answer all unto itself. ᚄ