TERRIFIC TEAM-UP IMAGE: ELVIS MIDNIGHT GLOBE

 

ROBIN HOOD BREAKS BAD (AN EXTENDED ASSESSMENT)

Someone told me that, in her humble opinion, Robin betrayed his pitch at redemptive sincerity during the end of Michael Sarnoski's The Death of Robin Hood. He did this, she claimed, when he informed Little Margaret how he and her father, Little John, met. Now, it's up to interpretation whether this sentimental encounter (carried by popular myth) even occurred in the context of the movie's reality, but it's clear that Hugh Jackman's bandit-bowman wanted the lass to embrace the uplifting account. Whether it's true doesn't matter since, by simple implication, it's designed to inspire her to make proper pacts and do righteous deeds, in the manner of Robin's accepted legend.

I don't have a problem with that, since the traditional tale (popularized ever further by writer/illustrator Howard Pyle) defines right from wrong, good from bad. (It doesn't switch the variables for some nefarious ruse.) What irks me are those lurking within Sarnoski's movie who might know the unsavory truth but find it fine as it stands.

The Death of Robin Hood, therefore, mirrors the modern practice of elevating miscreants to an ungodly fault. With this comparative observation, the movie acts as a warning, thanks to its flipside characterization. 

By habit, pompous pundits tend to blur the lines regarding bad acts, but even that practice is growing less common. Bad is bad, and that's good, or so the cretins proclaim, which again, I must stress, is the point of Sarnoski's experimental revision. (And I might add, this precise point, whether spurred by accident or plan, goes against the muddy perceptions of The Boys, Gen V and Preacher, which make it seem there's little or no distinction between the extremes: utter malarkey if ever there was. At least The Death of Robin Hood has the damn decency to draw a line in the sand.)

Some stories are open for interpretation. The Death of Robin Hood is one, and I've offered my estimation of its goal. I do believe my assessment is sound, based on the movie's pensive progression and the examples (the entitled brutality) it presents. Robin's recollection of Little John, as relayed to Little Margaret, doesn't contradict or ignore this; if anything, it reinforces (rather than merges) the great divide. Feel free to disagree, but until someone can convince me otherwise, I see no cause to purge my view. 

PINUP TIME: MARILYN MONROE IS NELL

SUMMER READING RECOMMENDATIONS: EIGHTH TOWER DARK FICTION

I've two more suggestions for your 2026, reading list. These Eighth Tower, Dark Fiction anthologies feature stories I wrote, so do pardon my shameless self promotion, but shucks, here it comes all the same. 

One edition is new: Night Falls: Stories inspired by David Lynch's Twin Peaks. Like the saga that inspired it, the curation is, to say the least, unconventional. 

Its stories, along with the one I composed ("The Greater Goo"), were written by J. Edwin Buja, Chris McAuley (who also performed as the volume's editor), Nora B. Peevy, RDJ Armstrong, Niyyah Ruscher-Haqq, Erica Ruppert and Carri Wiggins. Each tale commemorates a facet of the writer/director's titular saga, which he formed with filmmaker/novelist Mark Frost. There are also sprinkles of other Lynch creations throughout the volume to heighten its offbeat blend.

The Black Stone: Stories For Lovecraftian Summonings (the first in Eighth Towers' Dark Fiction series and now the first to appear in a revised edition) pulls from Robert E. Howard's tale of the same name, which the Conan author penned in honor of his kindred correspondent, H.P. Lovecraft. 

The curation's stories are from Ramsey Campbell, Brian M. Sammons, Glynn Owen Barras, Lucy A. Snyder. E.A. Black, Chris Kelso, Andrew Coulthard, Stephen Mark Rainey, Kevin Lewis, Richard Alan Scott, Richard Alan Scott, Russell Smeaton, J. Edwin Buja, Made in DNA, David Argranoff, Pete Rawlik, Brian C. Short, John Chadwick, David Voyles, Konstantine Paradias, Love Kolle, Edward Morris, Parry Milton, Phil Breach, Garret Cook, Andrew Freudenberg, Sarah Walker and of course (once more), yours truly. (In this case, my fable is called "Tentacled" and was based on an earlier tale called "Space Monster," which was included in my long-ago endeavor, Wonderful, Magical, Literary Elixirs.) 

I believe that each edition will grant ample escape. Give one or the other (better yet both) a whirl. They're inclined to haunt your summer, but if you've a penchant for the strange, such should be most welcome. 

Night Falls:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GY4PVKKW?ref=ppx_yo2ov_dt_b_fed_asin_title

The Black Stone: 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0H55GSVBD?ref=ppx_yo2ov_dt_b_fed_asin_title

FOR THE FUN OF IT:

 

THE AMUSEMENT PARK: GEORGE ROMERO'S SENIOR SUMMER

George A. Romero's once-thought-lost film, The Amusement Park, was not intended as a summer anthem, even though I have come to accept it as such. The 1975 production, which was financed by the Lutheran Service Society of Western Pennsylvania and filmed at the long-gone West View Park, is a public-service announcement on senior abuse. Its depictions, as written by Walton (Wally) Cook (who portrayed a fire chief in Romero's The Crazies) may seem surreal, but they are not far removed from what many seniors endure, whether then or now. 

Lincoln Maazel, who would go on to depict patriarch Tata Cuda in Romero's urban-vampire classic, Martin, plays both the film's host and juxtaposing leads. To launch its events, he confirms his own status as a senior (on the cusp of 71) and prepares one for the plight those of his demographic may face. From there, he assumes the story's bookending roles (introduced in a dull, white room), both characters dressed in white, but one spry and the other disheveled, the former journeying out to engage a series of linking vignettes, which culminate in an ironic, full-circle turn.  

The vignettes consist of the park's attendees dismissing an older man's death on a railroad attraction; a senior who fails an eye exam and loses his driver's license; a traffic accident involving his wife, represented by allegorical bumper cars; Maazel being disrespected at an outdoor restaurant (along with other elderly patrons); a false accusation made against him when he converses with children; a makeshift hospital where he is shuffled about without beneficial cause; a fortune teller who reveals to a young man that he will someday fall ill, with his wife unable to get him help; and a picnic where the exhausted Maazel reads "The Three Little Pigs" to a little girl, but is scorned before he can finish.

Cook's Twilight Zone-ish script is the real force behind the stressful stream, and his scenarios do resonate, but the blanketing ambiance is pure Romero, featuring his inimitable style of the time, which flowed from Night of the Living Dead through Knightriders. (And in the Amusement Park's case, the production even stars Romero as a hot-headed driver in the bumper-car scene, as well as Bill Hinzman, Night of the Living Dead's graveyard ghoul, as a shifty ticket handler, who also acted as the film's cinematographer, plus Romero's most consistent cinematographer, Michael [Dawn of the Dead/Creepshow] Gornick, as the young man of prophesized, poor health). The culmination, carried by these Romero familiarities, creates an everyman aesthetic which, though unassuming at a glance, builds a draw that's hard to break.

Maazel, who would live to the ripe old age of 105, is pitch-perfect in the lead. He is the glue that keeps the parts together, relaying strife, bewilderment, fear and dread: themes that infiltrate Cook's script.  

On the frivolous front, The Amusement Park does, indeed, capture the instrinsic essence of comparable, "summer" movies: The Other, Jaws, Friday the 13th (1980), The Lost Boys, Monster Summer and Abraham's Boys: A Dracula Story. The Amusement Park prevails, however, beyond its warm-weather insertions, due to its message, which spotlights folks in the winter of their lives, who are forced into summer's fickle serenity. It is a period that its participants should enjoy but, due to red-tape snags and myopic misunderstandings, cannot.  

If you have not seen The Amusement Park, please give it a view. Like me, you might find its specialized approach does, in fact, make for a worthy and unique, summer entry, even if one marked by disconcerting truths.  

https://www.amazon.com/gp/video/detail/0FFGDUEXZC0JZK87M3SVLPC53O/ref=atv_plr_detail_play

FOR THE FUN OF IT: