FOR THE FUN OF IT:

 

I SAW VAMPIRE ZOMBIES ... FROM SPACE!

Directed by Mike (Boys vs Girls/The Bird Men) Stasko, who cowrote with Alex Forman and Jakob Skyrzypa, Vampire Zombies ... From Space! is a 2024, Canadian black-and-white 1950s homage with contemporary contrivances. In other words, it's an Ed Woodian/Plan 9 from Outer Space inspiration, which summons the likes of Larry Blamire's The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra, Christopher R. Mihm's The Giant Spider, Matthew Kohnen's Wasting Away (aka Ahh! Zombies!!), Marius Penczner's I Was a Zombie for the F.B.I. and Paul Bunnell's The Ghastly Love of Johnny X.

The premise unfurls as  thus: Dracula, played by the Lugosi-esque Craig (Depraved Mind/The Eternal Present) Gloster, is an extraterrestrial who, with his brilliant yet reluctant son, Dylan, played by the Belushi-ish Robert Kemeny, leads a wobbly-flying-saucer-based invasion upon Earth (1957), commencing in the tiny town of Marlow. It's Dracula's intent to transform humanity into zombie vampires, with the plague spreading until complete, chaotic conquest is attained (yeah, rather Plan 9-prone). 

A heroic ensemble forms to battle the daunting incursion, which includes Rashaun Baldeo's Officer James Wallace (a conscientious, precinct transfer); Andrew Bee's Chief Ed Clarke (a diligent, in-charge drunk), Simon (Saw IV) Reynold's Colonel Harlan Talbit (a gung-ho strategist), Jessica's Antovski's Mary MacDowell (a young lady whose mother was slain by Drac and whose father has become a vampire zombie) and Oliver (Helltown) Georgiou's Wayne (the town's Fonzie-ish nonconformist and the tale's principal protagonist). 

To complement their valiant crusade, the movie offers nifty tie-ins that crossover-genre fans will appreciate, such as a vampire council comprised of Gary Oldman's Dracula (Martin Ouellette), Max Shreck's Count Orlok (David Liebe Hart) and an Elvira surrogate (Judith O'Dea of Night of the Living Dead). To spice up the scary shenanigans even further, there's Drac's mini, winged saucer, propelled by a conspicuous wire, and Drac as a daylight-swarming bat, a prop that's also propelled by a conspicuous wire, as it swoops in on its victims like a Beulah "control device" from It Conquered the World. 

As with such oldies-but-goodies like I Was a Teenage Frankenstein, The Curse of Frankenstein, The Brain That Wouldn't Die, Blood Feast, At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul and Night of the Living Dead, Vampire Zombies clings to a familiar storytelling style, while inserting contemporary gushes of gore. However, it also uses "potty" humor to secure a steady stream of laughs. (Lloyd Kaufman's lewd cameo abets this, as well as Mark Lefebrve's oblivious-to-connotation Mayor John Douglas). The result isn't quite Porky's, but it leans that way: a kind of hip yet vulgar, comedy variant with a pro-nicotine vibe, filtered through Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster, Invisible Invaders, Invasion of the Saucer Men and Teenagers from Outer Space ... perhaps. And perhaps, in this respect, it deserves tantamount alignment with the gruesome yet cheeky Mars Attacks, whether the original, bubblegum card series, Tim Burton's star-laden adaptation or the comic books that ensued. 

Here's the bottom line: Vampire Zombies is built on a variety of things, even as it stays its own thing. It's quick, cruel and cool, concocted by those who know their psychotronic stuff. It's worth viewing for anyone who recognizes and respects any of the above referenced movies and can be accessed via YouTube (through Creepy Popcorn), Tubi, MUBI, Roku, Amazon Prime, Apple TV and Screambox. Give it a spin on the source of your choice. 

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY 2026 (5/10)

SUPERMAN III: THE GORMAN/MXYZPTLK LINK

Richard Lester's Superman III gets lots of sneers and jeers, even though many do enjoy David and Leslie Newman's amusing script. (For the record, at a recent gathering, when a few of us had an opportunity to watch either Star Wars: The Last Jedi or Superman III, the latter won unanimously. If that doesn't speak volumes ...) Even so, most will agree, Superman III does have some irksome anomalies (e.g. that surreal, traffic-light rumpus).

At any rate, I discovered a swell, video essay (inserted above) by Michael Kelly of JAKlife (culled from YouTube's Otherworldly Funding), where he (along with crossover guest interjector Deadpool) gives an enlightening theory that changes Superman III's slant. It all comes down to Richard Pryor's Gus Gorman and one of Superman III's considered but rejected villains, Mr. Mxyzptlk. (An early, Superman III treatment depicted Gorman as Brainiac in disguise. However, the connection doesn't gel with the antics displayed on film. Kelly's idea is exclusive to what we witness in the WB-approved movie, where Robert Vaughn's Ross Webster performs as top villain.)  

Kelly's notion doesn't change Superman III in any official capacity, but for an imaginative path, his concept does, indeed, jive. Give his "I Can Fix Superman III" a try, and by golly, the odds favor you'll understand why. 

PINUP TIME: RAQUEL WELCH IS HANNIE

I SAW DAREDEVIL: BORN AGAIN, SEASON 2

I saw Daredevil: Born Again's second season. I'm rather bummed. 

Sure, it's always swell to see Charlie Cox's Matt Murdock, the Man Without Fear, in top, slugfest form, but I sure didn't like this season's subversive, police-state narrative, where law officers (of any sort) were depicted as impulsive thugs. What about the criminals who assault citizens? They do exist, and depending on where one resides, they often get away with their crimes, despite ardent, enforcement efforts, all because of clueless and self-serving politicians. Guys like Murdock are meant to fix that sort of thing, not turn a blind (ahem) eye. 

Hey, here's thought. Born Again could have tackled (and could yet tackle) a presiding, social concern: child trafficking. The topic isn't out of range for superheroes. For one, there's a powerful, 1995 novel entitled Batman: The Ultimate Evil by Andrew Vachss, which details the revolting situation head-on. It left an indelible, lasting impression on me, and the book is more pertinent now than ever, considering that within the past few years, such atrocities have leapt to an all-time high. Born Again could have woven (could yet weave) some villain into that immoral tapestry, but this season chose to probe the contemporary cliche of bad is good, and good is bad. How rude! How typical! How drab!

Here's another Season 2 setback: I (and others) desired an ongoing, Sopranos allusion for Michael Gandolfini's Deputy Aide Daniel Blake. The prospect fizzled, even though "The Grand Design" was an exemplary episode for the character. Blake's handling of Genneya Walton's BB Urich in "Requiem" was fortifying, too, pressed ever further by Arty Foushan's Buck Cashman, who judged from the shadowy perimeter. Still, just as Blake's high-bar ascension seemed clinched, it died. "The Hateful Darkness" proved the fateful, final nail in the poor lad's coffin. 

For a little compensation, Matthew Lillard's CIA operative "Mr. Charles" and Wilson Bethel's diner-scourging Benjamin Poindexter/Bullseye did what they could to exploit the city's quirky recesses, creating the required intrigue that holds one's interest, but even their defining moments came and went, thanks to all the meandering, ministerial muddlement.

The same went for Krysten Ritter's Jessica Jones and Deborah Ann Woll's Karen Page, both looking quite fetching, I might add, but there was never enough of them. Why were they teased if their deeds were to be (with Jones) minimal or (with Page) sporadic and downtrodden? (In a similar way, Elden Henson's Foggy Nelson was reinstalled to fight the good, flashback fight, but his ghost was banished far too fast.)

I did like the Jack Duquesne/Swordsman portions, despite the heavy-handed, Law & Order bracketing. (At least I didn't have to contend with Chris Melonie mucking things up with his unconvincing, "I'm for justice" stance.) Tony Dalton did a great job as the vilified, Hawkeye-sprung vigilante, giving a performance that was sad but never sappy.

And what of Vincent D'Onofrio's Kingpin, you ask? Well, the fearsome Wilson Grant Fisk was once again ultra-imposing, even if drowned by a mountain of socio-political blather and an unfortunate, cringe-worthy tearful moment when he lost his beloved "Queenpin," Ayelet Zurer's Venessa. On the upside, his boxing match was the season's highlight, at least next to the finale's onslaught of Daredevil wannabes, and his bearhug snap of a compassionate doctor felt so right, even if it was so wrong. (Also, I dug the Kingpin mask featured in that string of Headroomy segues. I wouldn't mind having one to accompany my Don Post, super-deluxe Tor Johnson mask, but what are the odds one would be produced? Still, in the vast world of Marvel/Disney merchandizing, I suppose  anything's possible when it comes to making a buck.) 

Well, that more or less sums it up. Hell's Kitchen (and NYC in general) might still be fiery, but in the epic heart of ambivalence, so what? I had such friggin high hopes for this season, too. Now that my vim has been scrapped, I'm queasy about Disney+'s upcoming, Punisher special, "One Last Kill," and don't even get me started on Spidey: Brand New Day. I hope and pray that their focus doesn't become unfocused, but due to this Daredevil slip, I can only hope for the best (as in a possible, Frank Miller-minded stretch) and prepare for the worse (as in further excuses as to why bad guys are just poor, misunderstood victims of the system). 

TERRIFIC TEAM-UP IMAGE: THE MUMMY 1959 & CURSE OF THE UNDEAD