Monster Team-up: I saw Godzilla, King of the Monsters (2019)...

The sequel to Gareth Edwards' "Godzilla '14" steals its name from the U.S. '56 edit of "Gojira", but if the truth be known, this new flick is more a quasi-remake of 1964's "Ghidrah, the Three-Headed Monster" ("Three Giant Monsters: Earth's Greatest Battle"), '65's "Monster Zero" ("Invasion of the Astro-Monster") and 69's "Destroy All Monsters" ("March of the Attacking Monsters").   

The 2019 variant comes from director Michael "Krampus" Dougherty, whose retelling, per a script co-written with Zach Shields, touches as much on sweetened, human negotiation (i.e., lots of Monarch Company hot air) as blurred-out, battling behemoths. 

There's loads of feminine overflow, as well. Though that's not altogether displeasing, it too often distracts from its colossal beasts, more so than the humans ever dared in "Godzilla '14", where there was at least some symbolic symbiosis.  

As a '60s Toho knock-off, "King of the Monsters'" set-up is familiar, with the multi-headed terror manifesting from the celestial mist (or in this case, the ice) to zap the world to bits, as various other Titans (as they're now commonly called) join in. Godzilla, Rodan and Mothra emerge in the forefront to deal with Ghidorah, aka Monster Zero, each in his/her own way. On occasion, they get a little help from their little, human friends. Why not? The Titans and humankind play for the same team, plus or minus a philosophical discrepancy here and there.

To bring the epic to life, the CGI gets pretty heavy-handed, though is preferable to the clunky interpretations that blemished the Toho '70s run. (Some would argue that such was the case even in the '60s, but I detect enough care invested into that period's puppeteered costumes to give the economical angle a deserved pass.) On the other hand, CGI is a swift substitute for stop-motion. I do believe that Ghidorah would have benefited from a meticulous, classic approach. (Think along the lines of "Jason and the Argonaut'"s hydra.)

Rodan, in my opinion, is the most fascinating of the film's gigantic stars. Though prior Rodans were for the most part intimidating, this new one projects a formidable semblance unlike any predecessor: a nightmarish, flying demon, even if the entity's presence has virtuous potential when all is said and done. (Sad thing is, as awesome as Rodan appears in this retelling, he won't get a solo outta it; that'll go to sweetie-pie Mothra for sure. Bloody blah.)

Again, the film's drawback is its matriarchal stance and the chatty softness that coincides with it. I do dig "Stranger Things'"s Millie Bobby Brown and "Bates Motel'"s Vera Farminga, who get thrown into the focused-character gist. However, what good are competent actors if planted without purpose, or if that purpose does exist, it's for a concealed, PC (let-that-pretty-moth-rise) cause. (I must confess that I did fancy Zhang "The Grandmaster" Ziyi, who brings beauty and logic to the proceedings; it's just that there wasn't enough of her.)

Kyle "Kong '05" Chandler; Ken "Batman Begins" Wantanabe; David "The Spiderwick Chronicles" Strathairn; Thomas "Replicas" Middleditch; Bradley "The West Wing" Whiteford and Charles "Phantom of the Opera '90" Dance (looking more Peter Cushing-ish than ever before) are there for us guys to identify (and butt heads) with, but though commanding, their development is stilted by heaps of gobbledygook. That in turn hampers the film's required toughness. Playing it nice and verbose may be fine and dandy for real life, but for a movie of this cataclysmic caliber, two-fisted, bone-crushing intensity should have run high--real high--and on all subplotted levels. (For the record, the film offers one moment of moving sacrifice, a clever twist on the climax of "Godzilla '54", but it's too late in the game to make everything okay.)

If the plan was to lift from "Ghidrah/Monster Zero/Destroy", those films should have been "Godzilla '19'"s lasting foundation and not mere nods. With garrulous padding anchoring its premise, "King of the Monsters" develops like a half-baked "Rampage": the latter a superior, giant-monster rally, if only due to its shameless, building-breaking melees and brawny, get-it-done hero.

(If I may digress, I do hope that for the sake of "Godzilla vs Kong", the "Rampage" blueprint is matched. If not, I've a gnawing hunch that we could see even more babble and no-do than this time round. Hey, that's just the way things roll these donnish days.)

With that said, I don't need a giant-monster flick to help me tap into my feminine side, my diplomatic side, my side that wants to talk and talk and talk while others do the work, even if they are monsters. Sorry if that offends certain sensitive factions, but I don't think I'm alone in that view. Too bad the makers of "Godzilla '19" snubbed those of my adamant ilk. 

On the other hand, why get all flustered? To balance things out, there must be a Dwayne Johnson/Jason Statham team-up on the horizon, where the duo combats Strawberry Shortcake and Rainbow Brite in a battle to the death, right?

Monster Team-up Reflection #33: I saw the Blood Wars of the Underworld...

Len Wiseman’s “Underworld” franchise is a crossover of vampire and werewolf lore (pitting the two sides against each other): a hybrid tale that's spawned actual hybrids in its story line. The saga is also a hybrid of the horror, superhero/action and historical genres: as much “X-Men” as it is “Penny Dreadful”, as much an espionage soap opera as it's a brutal allegory for any number of real life's civil conflicts. 

The latest "Underworld" is subtitled “Blood Wars” and is directed by Anna Foerster and written by Cory Goodman (based on a treatment by Goodman and Kyle Ward). It reflects all of the above elements and exists as both a sprawling rehash and a contemplative extrapolation. 

We again have Selene, the gun-toting, sword-swiping Death Dealer, portrayed by the magnetic Kate Beckinsale (who’s held the lead in all but one “Underworld” feature). Here she embarks on another mission to end the centuries-old bloodshed between Lycans and Vamps, and to complicate her situation, she's estranged from her bloodsucking clan. Alas, the odds for success are more daunting than ever, with the werewolf side inclined to create leveraging hybrids from the blood of Selene's missing daughter, Eve (India Eisley, featured via inserted imagery). 

Former chapter Vamps, the enterprising David (Theo "Divergent" James) and his perceptive dad, Thomas (Charles Dance), soon enlist the heroine to crush the Lycan campaign. Cool, persuasive Semira (Lara "Sherlock" Pulver) ensures Selene's amnesty so that she might mold a Vamp army against a large-scale, Lycan attack, but is this her true motive? 

New Lycan leader, Marius (Tobias Menzies) isn't at all intimidated by a Vamp counter, confident he can make his clan supreme (and perhaps a few deceitful Vamps along the way). He becomes a blaring thorn in Selene's side and will throw all her efforts asunder, unless the scales miraculously tip. 

It takes a spell to get to that pivotal point, however, with the film's bridging exchanges and moody scenery taking center stage. The story's main base, the Nordic Coven, consumes most of the film: a wintry realm, occasionally adorned by the series' usual, blue sheen and plenty of helpful, fair-haired citizens.  

The icy aura certainly complements Beckinsale's lovely, pale guise. As enchanting as Selene is in her previous outings, she shines to a far greater extent (if that can be believed) in this one, thanks to cinematographer Karl Walter Lindenlaub's biting hues. Sometimes his technique makes Selene look more angelic than parasitic, but what the heck? Perhaps at this stage, our enticing lead is more the former than the latter...well, more a latex-clad, killer angel than a divine, winged one, anyway.

As Beckinsale's Elder "equivalent", Dance resumes his stately stance, even if still underused and--SPOILER--dispatched far too soon. Nonetheless, per his imposing Peter Cushing-esque stature, the actor can’t help but elevate the stakes. Let’s face it, this suave guy has imagi-movie clout. (He played the Phantom of the Opera in the NBC '90 mini-series for cryin' out loud, as well as having starred in “Alien 3”; “Dracula Untold”; “For Your Eyes Only”; "Game of Thrones"; “The Golden Child”; “Ironclad”; “The Last Action Hero”; “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies”; and “Victor Frankenstein”. Now that's one impressive resume.) 

Without such classy casting (and incidentally, to some degree or another, everyone mirrors Dance's chic style), "Blood Wars" may have dwindled into another said-and-done quickie, but fortunately, the movie's personas, and the careful discussions that convey their causes, lead Wiseman’s mythology to a satisfying closure. On the other hand, there’s no reason why tribal animosity can’t rise again (and hints of an ongoing cycle do come by story's end), but if a continuation is to occur, it must manifest in the right context...

Imagine, if you will, a "Resident Evil" crossover...Selene and Alice soaring through the air, grabbing onto each other, twisting and turning until they spiral into a stretch of sensual mud, their feisty fight continuing as they rip each other’s clothing, clawing and gnawing each other's pallid flesh and...oh, sorry, got carried away, but considering the lusty prospect, can you blame me?

I saw Victor Frankenstein...

As Valerie Martin's "Mary Reilly" allowed us to see Jekyll's strange going-ons through his maid's eyes, Paul McGuigan's "Victor Frankenstein" presents the mad genius' tale through his spry assistant's.

In this version of Mary Shelley's chilling story, Daniel "Harry Potter" Radcliffe portrays the aliased Igor Strausman, a deformed circus clown and amateur doctor, whom Frankenstein physically fixes and then employs. Igor isn't by any means Lugosi's legendary Ygor from "Son/Ghost of Frankenstein", nor is he a variation of Dwight Frye's Fritz from James Whale's original, though he occasionally insinuates the two. If anything, he's an impression of Michael Gwynn's unfortunate, physically transformed character in Terence Fisher's "Revenge of Frankenstein", though without the cannibalistic cravings. 

James McAvoy plays the scientific necromancer. His Frankenstein isn't quite as conscientious as Colin Clive's, but neither as incorrigible as Peter Cushing's Baron. Perhaps he's most like Kenneth Branagh's Victor, but why try to pigeonhole the chap. McAvoy makes his Frankenstein his own, though with a hyper Xavier strand which will likely please "X-Men" fans.

Frankenstein wishes to bestow eternal life upon the world, or at least as close to such as he can muster. Max Landis' screenplay bolsters that intent. As in previous incarnations, Frankenstein indulges in experimentation, with Igor's help, of course, and his assistant's reaction to the waking of dead flesh sways between glee and panic: the latter represented by a modified chimp's resurrection. Still, Igor remains faithful to his benefactor as they take the fugitive route, their relationship cheerful and sometimes comedic, at least until Frankenstein decides to build a man.

Guillaume Delaunay and Spencer Wilding occupy that essential spot, though the primary Monster (aka, Prometheus) remains more a phantom than an actual entity throughout much of the plot. Still, once he's revealed, he's a staggering sight to behold: patched, bolted and hulking (and at this point, not included in publicity stills). Too bad he doesn't enter the story sooner; for an extrapolation of his character would have proven quite fascinating. Even so, the giant's significance can't be denied and represents Frankenstein's guilt for the loss of his brother, Henry, though the creature's construction has equal, if not greater, impact on the bewildered Igor, whose conscience eventually gets the best of him. 

Other folks are also impacted (whether directly or indirectly) by Frankenstein's zeal, such as trapeze queen Lorelei (this version's would-be Elizabeth, though more to Igor than Victor; and played with refined grace by Jessica Brown Findley). There's also the righteous Scotland Yard inspector, Roderick Turpin (played with pious conviction by "Spectre'"s Andrew Scott) and a conniving college chum called Finnegan (played by the flamboyant Freddie Fox). Frankenstein's father (the sophisticated Charles Dance) enters briefly to accentuate his son's overcompensating drive.

It's Igor, however, who selflessly throws himself into the monstrous eye of the storm to save his master, but how can he prevent Frankenstein from completing the inevitable? Ah, in that lies the story's rub; and how Igor tackles such is this version's distinction. 

Beyond that, McGuigan/Landis' retelling remains old fashioned (i.e., relegated to the British Industrial Age), with steampunk machinery, flaring electricity, and that famous "It's alive" utterance. These familiar furnishings were obviously added as a safety net in case the film veered too off course, but fear not: "Victor Frankenstein" is nowhere near as extrapolated as the superheroic "I, Frankenstein", let alone that ol' groovy, cult favorite "Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster". Its roots remain primarily planted in Universal and Hammer stylizations. 

This may not be enough to appease all aficionados, but if you love Shelley's tale, if you fancy it no matter how many times it's been retold, regardless of the many twists filmmakers have forced upon it, you'll eagerly leap into this one and because of its content, likely enjoy it.   

"Victor Frankenstein", as with prior takes, warns us to keep our ambitions in check, to take responsibility for them when they go astray. In this instance, it's Igor who learns the brunt of that harsh lesson, but then as the filmmakers intended, his eyes are our eyes, once more experiencing a fable that, like our essential moral compass, will always require revisited contemplation.

I saw Dracula's Genesis...

Universal Studios has relaunched one of the great supernatural villains, apparently as an initial reboot for a new crossover monster universe, picking up (more or less) where Stephen Sommer's "Van Helsing" left off. Whether such a monster rally actually comes to be is yet to be seen, but as an otherwise solo effort, Gary Shore's "Dracula Untold" is a fine prequel, detailing Vlad Tepes' descent into monsterdom. 

As scripted by Matt Sazmia and Burk Sharpless, "Untold" is obviously derived from Francis Ford Coppola's "Bram Stoker's Dracula", the film's prelude precisely, and expanded accordingly.

On this basis, Dracula, portrayed by Luke "The Hobbit" Evans, doesn't necessarily start off bad. If anything, like the real-life Tepes/Drac, his intent is solely to protect his people from the invading Turks, lead by the merciless Mehmed, played by Dominic Cooper of "First Avenger" and "Abe Lincoln: Vampire Hunter" fame. One surely can't blame Vlad for taking the fight to the enemy, but as with his historical counterpart, the fictional Count takes matters radically too far. Indeed, as Nietzsche so aptly put it, if one looks into the abyss long enough, the abyss will look back, or in this particular instance, if one emulates evil to ward off evil, one will mirror the evil one combats. Arguable, yes, but a notion many do embrace, as this film effectively reflects. 

Philosophy aside, it's only when Drac sells his soul, so to speak, by aligning himself with the legendary fiend, Caligula (Charles "Phantom of the Opera" Dance), that he transforms not only mentally, but physically. It's then through some sweeping CGI'd effects that the film adapts its otherworldly charm: so apt for the title character and his Transylvania backdrop.

Surrounding characters pacify the story's tensions, but none is more supportive than his spouse, Mirena (Sarah Gadon), who acts as a surrogate to Winona Ryder's pre-Mina in the Coppola film. Her presence allows Evans to grant his character that tormented, Gary Oldman-inspired charm, making him often oddly empathetic. In essence, though he selflessly risks his virtue to become something vile to save his people; he fails to realize (despite a promise that he may return to normal if he doesn't taste blood within three days), he's irreversibly destined to become more ruthless than his Turk adversary. 

Visually, "Drac Untold" is jammed with impressive, sprawling backdrops and "300"-ish battles. These attributes additionally give the movie a borderline Sommers "Mummy" feel, though sans the camp. The bat sequences, in particular, are very well done, as are Drac's physical changes. To empower the effects, Evans does an excellent job of invoking a Jekyll/Hyde variance as he phases from stalwart leader to parasitic man-bat.

Dance is equally effective: a hideous counterpart to the generally dashing Vlad: his face ghostly pale, his eyes gleaming of sadistic delight. Even more than Evan's monstrous version of Drac, Dance's Caligula gives "Untold" its horror core, bringing to mind the beastly "Nosferatu" blood-suckers of past. 

It should also be noted that, though "Untold'"s epic extravagance can't help but entertain, for those foolishly craving a new parlor-room rendering (or who were quick to reject NBC's now defunct steampunk version), it might be wise to wait for a sequel, or if that doesn't come about, another remake of the actual Stoker novel. On the other hand, just revisit one of the existing film adaptations to experience something more traditional.

Nonetheless, traditionalists shouldn't disservice themselves by scorning "Untold". In the inexhaustible string of Drac/vampire entries, it deserves an honorable place as a bold variation on the horror legend, presented as an extended, dark-magical prequel: a story only previously touched upon in other films, but never before adequately explored. That certainly doesn't make the film utterly unique, but its zest to be different (and yet respectful to its source) is admirable. Those who particularly hold Stoker's creation near and dear to their hearts should surely find cause to embrace this version: another illustrious chapter in the famous monster's ever enduring legacy.