Halloween 2023: September 30th

The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958)

Ray Harryhausen really became a star of special effects technology through the series of black-and-white creature features he made for Columbia Pictures in the fifties. “20 Million Miles to Earth,” “Earth Vs. the Flying Saucers,” and “The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms” are monster kid classics. Yet one suspects that maybe Ray was a little tired of the stock monster movie plots of these films. Perhaps, he wanted to do something more epic. After all, the wonder and awe Harryhausen's trademark “DynaMation” techniques inspired in audiences would serve the mythic genre. Thus, a new phase in Harryhausen's career would begin with “The 7th Voyage of Sinbad.” Now, including this movie in a Halloween marathon is a little bit of a cheat... But it's got crazy monsters attacking people and that's good enough for me.

While on the way back to Baghdad, to marry his girlfriend Princess Parisa, Sinbad the Sailor and his crew stop by on the island of Colossa. There, sorcerer Sokurah is having some trouble with an angry cyclops stealing his magic lamp. Sokurah blackmails Sinbad into returning him to Colossa by shrinking Parisa and saying that egg shells from the massive Roc bird are the only thing that can reverse the spell. This is a ruse, of course, as Sokurah is only interested in the magic lamp. Sinbad endeavors to escape the island's various monsters, rescue the princess, and defeat the evil magician. 

Despite the title, “The 7th Voyage of Sinbad” draws more from some of Sinbad's other voyage. The bits with the Roc come mostly from the second and fifth voyages while the Cyclops is drawn partially from the third adventure. Otherwise, “The 7th Voyage of Sinbad” is an intriguing amalgamation of different cultural mythologies. A sequence where Sinbad has to block his ears while his mutinous crew are lured by singing demons on a coast recalls Odysseus and the Sirens. The way the cyclops is blinded also recalls “The Odyssey.” The genie in the magic lamp is a generic middle eastern fantasy trope largely taken from other “One Thousand and One Nights” stories. The plot is a standard fantasy adventure set-up, with an evil sorcerer, a dashing hero, and a damsel in distress. It's interesting that such a Westernized premise is being brought to a traditionally Middle-Eastern story, with characters that openly talk about Allah and Celiphates. 

Considering this type of set-up, it's not surprising that “The 7th Voyage of Sinbad” functions largely in archetypes. Sinbad, as played by the stout-chinned Kerwin Mathews, is an always virtuous swashbuckling good guy who consistently makes the right decisions and never fails to overcome any challenges. His love with Princess Parisa is defined solely by emotional purity, without a shred of sexual tension between them. She's played by Kathryn Grant, the future Mrs. Bing Crosby, who has the exact girl-next-door purity you'd expect. Meanwhile, Torin Thatcher's Sokurah is only missing a mustache to twirl to be an obviously villainous swindler and power-hungry schemer. “The 7th Voyage of Sinbad” operates in these kind of immediately recognizable, storybook tropes probably because it was largely intended for children... But it supports the idea that the movie is a fairy tale writ large, an adaptation of an ancient plot meant to invoke those same sort of universal feelings. 

All of this is interesting but it doesn't point towards the reason people remember “The 7th Voyage of Sinbad.” Harryhausen's stop-motion work had a way of taking over every movie it was in. The satyr-like cyclops has become iconic, with its perpetually sneer, pimply skin, horned head and pointed ears. Yet I think I like the two-headed Roc and the quadrupedal dragon from the final act the most. Each of these creatures move in a stunningly life-like fashion, with realistic quirks that lend each of them a personality of their own. The dragon, with the way its chained up and pushed along by Sokurah, makes me think of an abused attack dog. The film also features a single living skeleton warrior, the prototype for the far more famous skeleton army in “Jason and the Argonauts.” I can see why audiences latched onto that guy, as he's pretty cool.

“The 7th Voyage of Sinbad” would be a hit for Harryhausen and Colombia, prompting the animator to bring his “DynaMation' effects to a string of other family-friendly fantasies. This would, fifteen years later, include two more “Sinbad” movies. The gap makes it hard to call those sequels exactly but it's clear that Harryhausen knew the Sinbad stories were a rich source for filmmakers. Without Harryhausen's effects, “The 7th Voyage of Sinbad” would probably hold little interest. With them, it becomes a simply magical adventure that enchants and entertains to this day. [7/10]

Subspecies 4: Bloodstorm (1998)

During the Video Zone featurette for “Subspecies III,” Charles Band referred to the third installment as the last film in the series. This is despite a fairly open-ended conclusion that hardly wrapped up Michelle's story. In that same documentary, Band acknowledges that, if enough fans demand it, a fourth movie might be made... This apparently proved to be the case, as “Subspecies 4: Bloodstorm” would arrive on video shelves in 1998. Of course, the Full Moon Pictures of the late nineties was not the same beast it was earlier in the decade. Band was making about half the amount of movies he was during the company's heyday. David Allen's charming stop-motion effects had been replaced by super cheap rod puppets and lots of stock footage. A desire for theatrical equivalent looks on a direct-to-video budget gave way to increasingly limited sets. This drop of production values is all too apparent when you watch “Subspecies 4” directly after its immediate predecessors. 

Last we left them, Radu's flaming corpse was impaled on a tree and Michelle had been zipped up in a body bag by her sister and their friend from the American embassy. In the tradition of lackluster sequels, “Bloodstorm” quickly undoes these plot points in as sloppy a fashion as possible. Becky and Mel die in an off-screen car crash, while Michelle is discovered by Ana, a female doctor, and taken to a local clinic. Radu, meanwhile, just kind of scurries out of the sunlight and back into his crypt, despite being very dead last time. Anyway, Dr. Niculescu, a vampire who has augmented his condition with science, attempts to cure Michelle. Yet it's not long before Radu is trying to lure her back to the dark side. Soon, the vampire prince is seeking support from Ash and his followers, his fledglings introduced in “Vampire Journals.” Power plays between the vampires ensue as Michelle holds onto the last shred of her humanity. 

It's not as if the writing in the previous two “Subspecies” movies were especially deep or anything but we did care about Becky and Mel. Part four beginning by killing them in an especially lackadaisical manner gets the film off on a sour note. Without an established human heroine and leading man to focus on, “Bloodstorm” occupies itself with increasingly inane subplots. It's hard to be too invested in Ioana Abur's Ana, as she wanders into the story early on and is never given time to be properly developed. Dr. Niculescu is obviously evil and his alliances seem to shift from scene to scene. A sequence devoted to him creeping on a sleeping Ana seems like an especially blatant attempt to pad out the story. “Bloodstorm” also brings back Ian Haiduc as the eccentric Lt. Martin, now a vampire in a subplot that goes absolutely nowhere.

The sequel developing such uninspired threads as these is further proof that Ted Nicolaou and the gang didn't have many ideas for a fourth “Subspecies” installment. Intertwining the cast of “Subspecies” and “Vampire Journals” is a natural enough idea, as they are both set in the same world. Yet all this does is occupy “Bloodstorm” with the same sort of tiresome undead politics that filled “Vampire Journals'” runtime. Radu barges into Ash's lair, demands to be given a place to stay and hot babes to suck. Ash is Radu's fledgling, so he's compelled to obey but annoyed by the request. That's why he sends Serena in as a double agent, seducing Radu and earning his trust. By the time Radu is asking for control of Ash's criminal enterprises, this shit could not get more perfunctory. 

Another clear example of “Subspecies 4” running on fumes is Radu and Michelle's relationship. Denice Duff spends the first half of the movie laying on a slab, partially catatonic. When Radu attempts to capture her from the hospital, the movie briefly becomes interesting... Before settling back into the old routine of Radu attempting to make Michelle his perfect vampire mate. This is more-or-less the same pattern that played out in “Subspecies II” and “III,” causing “Bloodstorm” to feel fairly repetitive. Yet it's also the most interesting thing about the sequel, if only because we actually have investment in these two. Anders Hove's strange, smoldering intensity and Duff's mixture of vulnerability and sensuality make these moments easy to watch, played out as this particular dynamic might be.

“Subspecies 4: Bloodstorm” ends in such a way as to assure audiences that Radu is really most sincerely dead. One imagines that Ted Nicolaou made it this way so as to prevent Charles Band from roping him into another installment further down the line. Considering the minuscule budgets Band was working with at this point in his career, it's not surprising that “Bloodstorm” is short on the authentic locations and gothic atmosphere of the previous three. There's some cool shots of shadows gliding over buildings but I think some of them might be stock footage. “Subspecies III's” ending was far from conclusive but part four's uninspired content makes it clear there wasn't much anywhere else to take this story. This is more a tepid epilogue than a grand finale. [4/10]

One Step Beyond: Emergency Only

Being a supernatural anthology series that purported to draw its stories from true accounts, several episodes of “One Step Beyond” feature premonitions. In fact, both the second and third installments focused on visions of the future. In “Emergency Only,” the latter, Arthur Douglas is enjoying a dinner party at a friend's apartment. A woman named Ellen Larrabee is said to have a party trick: The ability to see future events, usually tragedies. Falling into a trance, she sees Arthur getting on a train, meeting a pretty woman, encountering a snake, and dying in a collision. Arthur dismisses it but, after his flight is delayed and he's forced to catch a train, he finds the premonition seems to be coming true after all.

“Emergency Only” is the second highest rated episode of “One Step Beyond” on IMDb. At first, I attribute this to a prominent role for Jocelyn Brando, Marlo's older sister and an actor of some renown herself. (She's pretty good in her one scene, for what it's worth.) Initially, the episode proceeds quite drolly. Arthur is told at a party that certain things are going to happen. They then proceed to happen, in an orderly fashion, without much deviation from the forewarning. Each prediction coming true is followed by a dramatic musical sting and a repeat of Ellen's vision in voice-over, in an attempt to build suspense. It feels a little like someone telling us that they are going to do a thing and then being forced to watch while they do exactly what they announced. Not very exciting, right? 

Yet, as it stretches on, “Emergency Only” does start to build a bit of tension. This is largely thanks to Lin McCarthy's performance as Arthur. After he encounters a distinctive woman with a snake-shaped ring on the train, he starts to sweat. He gets increasingly frenzied as he fears his fate might have been sealed. It helps that Paula Raymond, as the eye-catching lady passenger, has no idea why McCarthy is freaking out so much. This results in “Emergency Only” actually getting a little suspenseful on its way to a very predictable ending. And every time I watch an episode of this show, I'm reminded why sleepy, cordial John Newland is not remembered in the same breath as other anthology show hosts like Rod Serling or Alfred Hitchcock. He's so bland! But the episode's not bad. [6/10]

The Munsters: Herman, Coach of the Year / Happy 100th Anniversary

The relationship among the Munsters family come into focus in this two sets of episodes. “Herman, Coach of the Year” begins with Eddie returning home from school, despondent. The other kids on the track team are mocking him by calling him “lead foot.” Herman decides to train the boy to be the best runner he can, while Grandpa conspires to use magic to improve Eddie's chances. “Happy 100th Anniversary” has Herman and Lily both attempting to surprise each other for the titular celebration. They withdraw money from the bank at the same time to buy a gift for each other, resulting in both checks being rescinded. Lily and Herman, totally unaware, both take secret night jobs at a shipyard to afford a gift. Shenanigans ensue. 

“Herman, Coach of the Year” represents “The Munsters” at its broadest, which is no small feat. Wacky physical gags take up most of the episode. You're going to see Herman smash through numerous structures and bop himself over the head multiple times here. The effects of Grandpa's magic on Eddie, a stray cat, and the track team's reaction to Herman also results in typical silliness. Among the better jokes is the reaction of an incredulous husband after his wife's car gets repeatedly pleated by the objects Herman throws. 

What I found most interesting about this episode is Herman and Grandpa's opposing approaches to victory. The father believes that hard-work and training is the only honorable way to win a competition, while the vampire thinks winning at all cost – including doping with advantage-boosting pills – is what's important. It's a good thing Mockingbird Heights Elementary School doesn't do random drug test on their student athletes, I guess. Then again, Herman does have a past as a professional baseball player, so maybe the school would expect his son to excel at athletics... 

“Happy 100th Anniversary” has about the most sitcommy premise a sitcom could have. From the minute Herman and Lily both secretly plan to buy the other an anniversary gift, it's clear this is going to progress in an O. Henry, “Gift of the Magi” style direction. “The Munsters” being the kind of show it is, this premise is taken to its absolute most absurd extreme. Herman and Lily getting the exact same job, where they just happen to have their faces covered, under the exact same circumstances, would push plausibility in a show that didn't star monsters. Luckily, the script plays up the ridiculousness of the scenario, leading to a unlikely payoff and cute resolution. Honestly, the best joke here might involve a random scene of Grandpa torturing some marshmallows though. [Herman, Coach of the Year: 6/10 / Happy 100th Anniversary: 7/10]