R.I.P. DAVID WARNER...

You were skillful and kind, Mr. Warner, sinister and refined, and your performances held a distinct ability to outshine most actors' boldest expectations.

The indisputable proof can be found in Time After Time; The Company of Wolves; Nightwing; From Beyond the Grave; Penny Dreadful (as Van Helsing); Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman (as Jor-El); Batman: The Animated Series (as Ra's al Ghul); Waxwork; Ice Cream Man; The Unnamable II; The Lost World '92; Time Bandits; Planet of the Apes '01; Tron; Star Trek V: The Final Frontier; Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country; Star Trek TNG: "Chain of Command"; Babylon 5: "Grail"; Quest of the Delta Knights; Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II; My Best Friend is a Vampire; Blue Tornado; A Doll's House; A Midsummer Night's Dream '68; Tom Jones; The Fixer; Straw Dogs '71, The Code Conspiracy; Cross of Iron; The Sea Gull; Providence; Silver Bears; Ragtime Summer; The Island '80; The Concorde - Airport '79; The Man with Two Brains; Perfect Friday; The Little Unicorn; The Last Leprechaun; Hansel and Gretel '97; Mary Poppins Returns; Rasputin: Dark Servant of Destiny; and the blockbuster that topped 'em all, Titanic '97. 

To many, though, it was your performance as Keith Jennings in The Omen '76 that most will reference, not only for the ardent command you brought to the role, but your character's shocking death. Ouch!

May you now occupy that great stage called Heaven, and entertain the ethereal, as you've done "time after time" among the mere mortals of this appreciative earth. 

Time Travel Time #16: Time After Time

“Time After Time” is a time-travel tale about H.G. Wells, Jack the Ripper and unexpected love. It commences much like George Pal’s adaptation of Well’s classic (see "Time Travel Time #1: Feb '14), commencing in 1893 London, but springs to 1979 San Francisco. So much for the Eloi and Morlocks in this regard, but as far as historical, fish-out-of-water adventures go, “Time After Time” remains a most pleasant gem.

Much of the film’s success comes from writer/director Nicolas Meyer, who previously gave us a splendid mesh of factual and fictional icons in “The Seven-Per-Cent Solution” (i.e., Sigmund Freud meets Sherlock Holmes) and would later energize the “Star Trek” movie franchise with “Wrath of Khan” through “Voyage Home”: the latter also a time-travel tale. (Incidentally the concept behind “Time After Time” stems from a novel by Karl Alexander, which Meyers and Steve Hayes adapted after the author’s passing.)

The remainder of the film’s success comes from its distinguished cast: Malcolm McDowell as Wells; Mary Steenburgen as the liberated Amy Robbins; and David Warner as Dr. John Leslie Stevenson/Jack the Ripper (and it must be noted, White Chapel's Chief of Surgery, who has a tendency of triggering a musical pocket watch whenever he's set to murder). 

Stevenson is present during Well’s time-travel demonstration, and in witnessing the magic of the marvelous device (which possesses all the required Victorian charm in its quaint but sturdy construction), the madman flees inside it to future California, where a Wells exhibit just happens to be on display. 

The catch is, the Ripper can't hold onto the machine. It swings back in time to its London origin, because Wells holds the specialized key that would otherwise make it stationary. Stevenson desires both the machine and the key, and when Wells hops aboard the device to track down his acquaintance, the dreadful doctor is ironically granted his opportunity.

A confrontation between Wells and the Stevenson isn't immediate, however. At first, some detective work is required on Wells' part, which he initiates by visiting local banks, assuming the doctor would have exchanged his coinage for U.S. currency. It's during this quest that Wells meets the brassy Amy Robbins, who works at the Bank of London. She takes an immediate liking to the gentlemanly Wells and supplies the information he seeks. 

A quick but affable courtship follows, where McDowell and Steenburgen churn up the charm, as the author/inventor continues to learn the ropes. Wells, after all, must acquaint himself to his new world's wonders and alas, its disappointments. Violence prevails during a time that he thought would be idyllic, but thanks to Robbins, some serenity ensues. 

As the courtship builds, Stevenson demonstrates he's ever the clever fiend (even making it appear he's dead for spell). He eventually resurfaces to kidnap Robbins in exchange for the key, but what's the ethical Wells to do in such a confounding situation?

The clever script (accompanied by Miklos Rozsas' sweeping score) handles matters with just the right foreboding and grace to make it all click, balancing Victorian splendor with a hip, '70s sensibility. One cares for the characters and wishes to see Wells and Robbins culminate their relationship, while the Ripper injects a consistent air of menace. 

A generous sum of philosophy also enriches the tale, which mostly pours from Warner's devilish lips. He often makes sense, even though we wish he wouldn't. Poor Wells, on the other hand, epitomizes rationality (and sometimes naivety) in the face of the Stevenson's crazed, selfish pursuits. To add to his misery, Wells finds that he must reveal the truth to Robbins: not the easiest task considering her no-nonsense mode, but boy, does he ever try, and in many respects, this becomes the most endearing part of the story. 

"Time After Time" is one of those wonderful, offbeat escapades that despite its unsavory elements, makes one feel pretty darn good. Like "Somewhere in Time" (see "Time Travel Time # 11: Feb '15), it's most suitable to watch around Valentine's Day, but any time of the year would work equally fine, for good stories invariably transcend the test of time. Indeed, "Time After Time" is one such charming case in point.

Time Travel Time #13: Time Bandits

Terry Gilliam's "Time Bandits" is a 1981 fantasy adventure, produced by George Harrison (who supplies a catchy end-credits tune) and Denis O'Brien; written by Gilliam and Michael Palin. In addition to Gilliam and Palin, it also features fellow Monty Python member, John Cleese. On various levels, it exudes the troupe's comic sensibilities.

The movie is also a story of escape: its time-travel component predominately a means for its young hero to flee a doleful reality. Like the youngster in "NeverEnding Story", Kevin (Craig Warnock) perceives the present as spiritless. His parents (David Daker and Shiela Fearn) are preoccupied with game-show television; he, on the other hand, holds a keen interest in history and "faraway places with strange sounding names". As fate would have it, his bedroom contains a time portal, which grants passage to a passing knight one evening and soon thereafter a most mischievous gang of bandit dwarfs.  

The dwarfs are runaway design-engineers who've stolen a map of the world's various portals (time passages in need of closure) from the Supreme Being (i.e., God) and hope to travel through them to rob treasures from various historic periods. The ensemble consists of Randall (David Rappaport), the leader; Fidgit (Kenny "R2D2" Baker); Stutter (Malcolm Dixon); Wally (Jack Purus); and Vermin (Tiny Ross). Rappaport's Randall is quite the charmer (and the role paved the way for his presence in "The Bride" and the cult television series, "The Wizard"). He pulls Kevin along for the journey when the Supreme Being's Pythonish head tracks the dwarfs through his bedroom and into another period, granting the boy a chance (albeit of frantic circumstance) to attain the exotic action he so yearns.

Initially, the misfits fall into the Napoleonic era, where they attempt to steal from the Emperor (Ian Holm). More by accident than plan, they end up performing a song-and-dance routine for him. Kevin watches the bumbling affair in awe, but no sooner does it reach its pinnacle, he and the gang are off again (with their treasure load), sliding into the time of Robin Hood (Cleese) and his less-than-merry-men. Kevin thereafter stumbles into a separate portal, allowing him to meet none other than King Agamemnon (Sean Connery), who just so happens to be battling a Minotaur. 

Kevin inadvertently helps the charismatic king slay the beast, and a father-son relationship blossoms, but once more, the dwarfs intervene and drag Kevin onward, this time landing upon the Titanic, shortly before its fateful sinking.

All the while, the film's villain, the spell-casting Evil (David Warner), keeps a watchful eye on the band, desiring the map for his own, so that he may change the world's dynamics to spite the Supreme Being. With his dim-witted henchmen, he hurls our anti-heroes into the Time of Legends, where they meet both a hapless troll and his wife (Peter Vaughan and Katherine Helmond) and then a ship-capped Tor Johnson-like giant (Ian Muir). These dangerous encounters lead the gang to Evil's realm, and from there, a test between good and Evil ensues, until the Supreme Being makes a memorable appearance, transforming himself into an officious old man (Sir Ralph Richardson) and settling matters for once and all, or so it seems.

Throughout the escapades, a fair sum of dry humor ensues, especially in the Napoleon and Robin Hood segments (that latter sprinkled with socialistic quips). There's also a goofy couple (Palin and Shelley Duvall) who reappear in different time sectors, their amorous unions spoiled each time by the dwarfs' rambunctious entrances. Kevin generally steers the men in the right direction, though Randall always remains its resourceful leader, as well as the film's prime scene thief.

"Time Bandits" is basically played for fun, but it's not devoid of philosophy, explaining how good and evil are part of life's plan: a test imposed upon us by the Supreme Being. Its varying trips also grant us an informative, if not sometimes skewed view of history, without ever radically rewriting it. If anything, Gilliam and Palin's screenplay essays how historical adventure is the catalyst for many of the fictional ones we've come to embrace. It also tells us that from the past, we can better enjoy the present and the future. 

"Time Bandits'" ambiance is distinctly British and unmistakably Gilliam, stirred with Whovian seasoning, though with grander effects than typical Python outings. The effects are still pleasantly old-school, as are the elaborate costumes, particularly Warner's: a regal concoction of steel, bone and crimson cape, worthy of any Conan adversary.

"Time Bandits" concludes on an open note and could have spawned an immediate sequel or possibly even a television series, though one could argue that "Voyagers!" was an unofficial offshoot. It's ending nearly implies the likes of "Wizard of Oz", "Invaders from Mars" and "Phantasm", but there's a twist (thanks to Kevin's trusty Polaroid), which verifies that what transpired was real and will, in fact, carry on, as long as we, like Kevin, dare conjure the courage to look backward.