Monster Team-up: I saw the Living Vampire...

Marvel's Michael Morbius has always been a big deal to me, and it goes way back to when creators Matt Tolmach and Lucas Foster unleashed him on the '71 scene. Like Hulk and Thing, Dr. Morbius is a monsterized superhero and therefore the embodiment of the best of both fantastic worlds. 

For the present, he's featured in a live-action adaptation, directed by Eric Espinosa and scripted by Matt Sazama and Burk Sharpless, which takes the famed Living Vampire's visage to a whole new level. 

Jared Leto, who made quite a devilish Joker in Zack Snyder's DC-verse, plays the determined, blood-diseased doctor, searching to purge his emaciating infection, when--unholy smokes!--he conceives a vampire-bat serum that not only keeps him alive, but turns him into a simulated vampire, with all the high-flying traits associated with the legend, as well as a pale, batty semblance sprung straight from Marvel's iconic pages. 

Morbius' pal, Loxius "Milo" Crown, played by Matt (Doctor Who) Smith, is plagued by the same affliction, but when he discovers the serum, he transforms himself into a vampire geared for conceited bad, and of course, a friends-turned-enemies conundrum strikes, with a monster-vs-monster battle ensuing right to the biting end. 

To the movie's additional benefit, the supporting cast is stellar, with the distinguished Jared Harris as Morbius' parental mentor, Emil Nikos; Adria Arjona as Morbius' fiancé (and co-concoctor of his "cure"), Martine Bancroft; and Tyresse Gibson as Simon Stroud, a FBI agent who tracks the monsters' whereabouts much as Jack Colvin's Jack McGee does on The Incredible Hulk television series. Stroud's partner, Al Rodriguez, played by Al Madrigal, lends an everyman affability to the ongoing hunt.

The story's best moments are its rapid, vampiric transformations (nicely accompanied by Jon  Ekstrand's excellent score). Sadly, Bancroft drags the story in spots where it should stay zinging. (Let's face it, a weepy nag is never a win-over, even if damn attractive.)

There are times when Morbius mimics Venom I & II with its chaotic, urban-jungle swing, which isn't so surprising considering that the Living Vampire is relegated to Eddie Brock's original, movie niche. However, Michael Keaton's cameo as Adrian Toomes, aka the Vulture, creates an even further tying twist, since he links to Tom Holland's first "solo", Spidey flick. 

All in all, Morbius isn't any more innovative than the standard, comic-book flick, but like those that have come before it, it entertains. Moreover, it slaps a tried-and-true favorite onto the big screen, making this movie an official part of Marvel's Multiverse bible. Now it's just a matter of bringing Spidey's Sony characters into a singular fold, and we're all set!

An Alternate Reality: I saw Carnival Row...

Created by Rene Echevarria and Travis Beacham, the eight-episode "Carnival Row" is an unofficial, turn-of-the-century, alternate-reality (is it England?), Amazon companion piece to Netflix's "Bright".

It's a murder mystery, as well as a blending of fantasy worlds (and all the contention that goes with such a crossover), featuring Orlando Bloom's Inspector Rycroft Philostrate (a veteran of a indistinct war, which we visit via flashback), who leads the charge in a city called Burge and faces a slippery slope that's not his own. His love-interest "Watson" (a temporary, downtrodden maid) is an immigrant/refugee faery (one of the "fae folk", that is) named Vingette Stonemoss, portrayed by Cara Delevingne, who's easy on the eyes, as should come as no surprise to anyone who's beheld her. 

The saga's overseer is Chancellor Absolom Breakspear, played by Jared Harris. Breakspear takes heat for the immigration flow, during which perplexing, Jack the Ripper type murders occur. Breakspear's son (Arty Froushan) is kidnapped in the interim, causing the leader further distress. (The role requires a deft blend of pomposity and sympathy, thus giving Harris many scenes to emote as only he can. Fans of the multifaceted actor will be satisfied.) 

The immigrant hangout is called Carnival Row. The humans stationed in the Burge don't care much for the "invasion", which consists of all sorts of amazing races. Tensions naturally rise from both sides. I suppose that's the series' socio-political intent, but for all its infuriated strain, the conflict feels like everyday life: identifiable, even if ugly. 

This may be "Carnival Row'"s best and worst asset. It appears to dispatch an allegorical message about a refugee crisis, but the theme is never fully essayed. With a better defined allegory, "Carnival Row" may have reached the food-for-thought level of "Alien Nation", "Star Trek" and "Planet of the Apes", and there are moments when it comes awfully close, but its lack of consistency turns its angle middle of the road. That there's an overload of subplots doesn't help, either. (Some say the series is attempting to be the next "Game of Thrones". Could be. Who knows?)

Even with its clutter, "Carnival Row" still comes across as sharp and dark. Potterheads will find it as disturbing as "Bright", though nowhere near as intimidating as any given Tolkien chapter. In other words, "Carnival Row" isn't meant for the queasy. (Its violent aftermaths are often on a par with H.G. Lewis and Tom Savini; and there's ample sexual simulation. How ghastly!) At the same time, its steampunk-ish decor is the CGI frosting on the cake and should intrigue most who take a peek. 

There's no doubt that "Carnival Row" is an commendable experiment, which could become all the more engaging if it does, indeed, spawn a second season. (One has been ordered, but that doesn't mean it's clinched, so let's not jump the gun.) 

Right now, the mainstream snoots aren't keen on this one, but who cares what they think? It's the Amazon subscribers who'll determine whether this one continues. I say, why not? Given the chance, it could become the next, big thing. Let's see where it goes. 

I saw U.N.C.L.E. (Reborn)...

In the mid-sixties there was no spy phenomenon as big as "The Man From U.N.C.L.E.", except of course, James Bond and let's not forget "The Avengers" (John Steed/Emma Peel, that is). "U.N.C.L.E.", however, went through the roof during its early phases, making Robert Vaughn and David McCallum household names, as well as their characters, Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin pop-cultural icons. Incidentally, though the series was developed by the innovative Sam Rolfe, it was conceptually influenced by Bond's daddy, Ian Fleming.

U.N.C.L.E., which stands for United Network Command for Law and Enforcement,  took a stand against the chaotic command of T.H.R.U.S.H.: Tech Hierarchy for the Removal of Undesirables and the Subjugation of Humanity (how's that for a mouthful?). U.N.C.L.E. was a combined agency effort: though Solo was American bred, Kuryakin was KGB connected. Kuryakin was still faithful to Solo, who like Bond, was every inch the suave, lady's man. Their boss (i.e., their version of "M"), was Alexander Waverly, portrayed by renown character-actor Leo G. Carroll: the series' sentimental, supporting lead. 

"U.N.C.L.E." spawned several films (episodes shown theatrically in color during a time when black-and-white television was the norm, with added, sensual footage not seen on the home screen). The films were profitable worldwide, and though "Return of the Man from Uncle" premiered as a high-profile movie-of-the-week in '83, it's odd that a theatrical relaunch of the franchise has taken this long. 

Nevertheless, the "U.N.C.L.E" revival has surfaced: big-budgeted and directed by hipster Guy Ritchie, who co-scripted with Lionel Wigram. It stars Henry Cavill as Solo and Armie Hammer as Kuryakin: yep, Superman and the Lone Ranger together at last (well, sorta). Affable Hugh Grant portrays Waverly, with Jared Harris on hand as C.I.A. agent Sanders, who  keeps us properly cautious in the good ol' fashioned Cold War way. 

Joining the boys is the lovely, mechanically inclined East German, Gaby Teller (Alicia "Ex Machina" Vikander). She's not in the least timid about throwing herself into the action and remains a constant sight-for-sore-eyes: for all intents and purposes, this story's "Girl From U.N.C.L.E.".

The sinister lead is the cool Victoria Vinciguerra (Elizabeth Debicki), who's as fiendish as she is statuesque: a veritable Satan cloaked. Her sadistic motivation is pure T.H.R.U.SH., with a desire to tear down the world via nuclear destruction (and with an connection to Teller's physicist dad, no less). In this regard, she's much like any aspiring terrorist (only lots prettier) and to Solo, far more treacherous than even the most skilled KGB agent could be. After all, Kuryakin is on his side (albeit reluctantly), and together our heroes face a series of outlandish obstacles to defeat their foe.

The circumstances churn lots of comical bickering and sincere camaraderie, making this U.N.C.L.E. more of a buddy movie than a typical, spy/espionage flick. Then again, the principles were always tight-nit on the series, and considering the third season's shameless levity, the film's shenanigans may not be so out of place. 

In other ways, Ritchie's version mirrors his revisionist Sherlock Holmes adventures: a sea-sawing of high-flying danger and unabashed superheroics. Thank goodness the flow never feels awkward, perhaps because its underlying unevenness is charged by movie-serial thrills, quick wit and exotic visuals. Let's face it: for this sort of adventure, that's essentially all one needs.

Also to the remake's benefit, it's an unapologetic nostalgic piece, with a Daniel Pemberton throwback score, which often invokes Ennio Morricone, constantly accompanied by cool cars and colorful clothing. The overall package is an indisputable gift to older fans, but hopefully the film will inspire youngsters to seek out the original, so they might see what all the hub-bub was (and still is) about. Indeed, what was old is new again, and in either case, it's all good fun.

I saw Poltergeist (Retold)...

There's a fine line between what defines a remake and a reboot, I suppose. In either case, we're dealing with restarts, and in today's cinematic climate, any such variation implies the hope for further chapters. "Poltergeist 2015" is no exception. 

In the case of director Gil ("Monster House") Kenan and producer Sam "Evil Dead" Raimi's  "retelling", we're offered the same scenario as in the Tobe Hooper '82 classic: a family moves into a new home where they're tormented by malevolent, burial-ground spirits. Items in and around the house take on a life of their own: the towering tree, an eerie clown doll and a television set which acts as a conduit to another dimension. In essence, it's Richard Matheson's "Little Girl Lost", as previously and unofficially revised by Steven Spielberg. 

In the new "Poltergeist", screenwriter David Lindsay-Abaire has changed the family's name from Freeling to Bowen. There's Eric, the father (Sam Rockwell); Amy, the mother (Rosemarie Dewitt); the older sister, Kendra (Saxon Sharbino), the little brother, Griffin (Kyle Catlett) and the little sister, Madison (Kennedi Clements), who for all intents and purposes is a dead-ringer for Heather O'Rouke's iconic Carol Anne, but with jet-black hair. Like Carol Anne, Madison is lured into an unearthly realm, and try as her family may, they're at a loss as to how to retrieve her. (Now, that the Bowens are plagued in the same manner as the Freelings may simply mean that the ghosts prefer to toy with the same variables whenever they're available with any new family that emerges, but then again, a ghost fable by any other name...well, you get my drift.)

As in the original, a paranormal team is recruited to investigate Madison's abduction. Their leader is Dr. Brooke Powell (Jane Adams), and she and her crew are at a loss as to how to get Madison back. As such, Powell calls upon her ex, a ghost-hunter celebrity named Carrigan Burke (Jared Harris). 

Carrigan is this version's Tangina, but unlike Zelda Rubinstein's quirky character, Harris' counterpart appears more somber and action-prone: a cross between Father Merrin and Van Helsing. Though it takes half the movie for him to make a substantial appearance, he becomes the story's savior, and in more ways than one, for his determination gives the plot an aura of tension and sophistication, making the proceedings credible, despite their extraordinary nature.

To add to the dilemma, Cartlett's nervous brother creates an overcoming-one's-fear motif. Whether he's battling a frightening doll or a monstrous tree, it's easy to see through his eyes and admire his courage when he must journey forth to rescue his sister.

Unfortunately, a wonderful opportunity is missed by not exploring the other dimension: a fault that can also be attributed to the original film and its sequels. In the "Twilight Zone" adaptation of Matheson's story, we're at least granted a view of the abstract, psychedelic world in which the poor girl wanders. An extrapolation on this concept would have added a unique touch to the new film and have justifiably padded its running time.

As it stands, the new "Poltergeist" runs roughly a hour and twenty minutes. Its brevity makes it feel like a television movie, stripped of commercials, of course. This is not to say the film is skimpy in content or ineffective in its rehashed scares; however, in comparison to the Hooper film, it feels incomplete.

The lasting impact of "Poltergeist 2015" is yet to be seen, but it seems destined to become like other, potential franchise restarters: "The Amityville Horror", "The Fog", "Friday the 13th", "A Nightmare on Elm Street" and "The Omen". 

As long as it makes a profit, that should suffice, and horror fans should certainly give it a whirl, but as far as rattling the pop-cultural chains of innovation, this one, at best, will go down as an also-ran among this year's summer releases: no shame in that, but no victory, either.