Big 'Bots and Belligerent Behemoths Clash in Pacific Rim (2013)

Since I'm planning to wrap up 2013 with a look back at a few examples of Japanese robot toys--one of my favorite kind of toys--I thought I would kick off this year-end series of posts with a review of Guillermo del Toro's Pacific Rim, one of the big-budget releases from last summer that I missed when it was playing in the theaters.

Summer blockbusters have never been held in high regard by the film critic community, and such critics have been particularly displeased with Hollywood's over-usage of CGI effects to produce increasingly bigger and louder blockbuster movies. To be sure, such criticism is not entirely inaccurate: CGI does permit the creation of larger-scale environments and set pieces in ways that miniatures, matte paintings and other practical effect techniques could never allow. As such, CGI has enabled the production of many, many summer blockbusters that are enormous in terms of spectacle but conspicuously short in terms of creative ideas and conceptual depth. Pacific Rim is not one of those movies, because del Toro eagerly packs every frame of his film with enough details and ideas that fans who know what they're looking at will be reviewing this movie for years to come. Pacific Rim is a "big" in every sense of the term--big CGI, big landscapes, big battles, big ideas, and big ambition. In fact, I can't think of how any other special effects technique other than CGI could have accommodated del Toro's story.

In a nutshell, Pacific Rim is about a group of pilots, military leaders, scientists and technicians who build and operate giant robots called "Jaegers" that are designed to fight a seemingly endless series of giant monsters called "Kaiju" that have been emerging out of the Pacific Ocean for years to regularly trash the nearest city. The movie takes places during the closing days of the Kaiju war, when the Jaeger team is planning its final offensive that promises to put an end to the Kaiju menace.

Pacific Rim is a well-made film in every aspect: a well-written script, a well-cast ensemble of actors, and a well-directed approach to the material. Yet to really appreciate this movie, one has to understand that it is a tribute to Japan's "Super Robot" fantasy-science fiction genre and its "Real Robot" spin-off subgenre. Super Robot and Real Robot anime and manga usually involve giant robots that are piloted by human beings to fight giant monsters, other giant robots, or both. The Super Robot genre began in the mid-50s with the manga series Tetsujin 28, and it has continued with popular titles such as Mazinger Z, Mobile Suit Gundam, Patlabor and Neon Genesis Evangelion.

One of Pacific Rim's Super Robots, complete with "Rocket Punch" action.

Pacific Rim also draws inspiration from Japan's kaiju movies (ergo the collective name of the giant monsters in Rim), and the monster designs in the movie demonstrate how much del Toro and his production crew love and understand kaiju films such as Godzilla and Mothra. Nevertheless, most of the film's other details--the characters, their technology, the situations they face and the world they inhabit--are clearly modeled after Super Robot and Real Robot narratives. To put it another way, Pacific Rim is to Super Robot and Real Robot stories as Star Wars is to pulpy sci-fi space operas such as Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon.

With so many details spread throughout the movie, some aspects feel somewhat lacking. In particular, so much detail is applied to movie's fictitious world (a world where there's even a black market for dead Kaiju parts) that the characters feel more like broad personality types than fully-developed individuals. We see bits and pieces of who they are and their roles within the beleaguered, monster-pummeled society they represent but not much more than that; at times, it almost feels like watching Top Gun with giant robots instead of fighter jets. Yet del Toro's enthusiasm for the material permeates every aspect of the film, so I enjoyed geeking out with him just to see what kind of unique interpretations he could put on machines and monsters that are so closely associated with Japanese pop culture. To say that del Toro went above and beyond what he set out to do is an understatement, making this one of his best films to date.

If you don't understand why anyone would want to make a big-budget, live-action film based on anime and manga stories about giant robots, then Pacific Rim probably isn't for you. Otherwise, if you love big brawling 'bots and are looking for an example of CGI done right, then go grab some popcorn and treat yourself to del Toro's magnum mecha opus.

Ray Harryhausen, 1920 - 2013

I heard this week that stop-motion effects legend Ray Harryhausen passed away at the age of 92. Geek sites of all stripes have been doing obit and retrospective pieces about Harryhausen and his astonishing legacy, so it's only fitting that I share a few thoughts of my own about this amazing monster maker.

I was first exposed to Harryhausen's work the same way I was first exposed to most classic fantasy, horror and sci-fi cinema: through syndicated TV, during weekend afternoon sessions of channel surfing. I initially didn't know who Harryhausen actually was, but I knew his work when I saw it. The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, It Came from Beneath the Sea, Earth vs. the Flying Saucers, 20 Million Miles to Earth, Mysterious Island ... whenever these movies would air, I would tune in and gawk in amazement at Harryhausen's stop motion creations as they terrorized us feeble, fragile human beings. I couldn't have told you a thing back then about how he brought his creations to life, but I knew that there was something magical about them. Harryhausen was a master puppeteer and animator, and his attention to the details of emotion, form and movement was so meticulous that even after I had a firmer understanding of how stop motion animation actually operates, it still felt like these creatures had a kind of life of their own. Some may complain that stop motion animation isn't "realistic" enough, but such a complaint completely misses the wonder and excitement that comes from artistic inspiration and ingenuity.

If we can learn anything from Harryhausen's work, it is that the creation of illusions is an art form unto itself. Making things move that do not otherwise move, making things big that are actually small, and making things appear close together when they are actually far apart were techniques that Harryhausen skillfully applied to make his creations seamlessly share scenes with flesh-and-blood actors. It's easy to take these techniques for granted, especially since movies in general specialize in creating a wide variety of fantasies, but Harryhausen was an artist in a truest sense who in turn influenced subsequent generations of special effects artists.

I don't mind CGI effects in general, but something gets lost when physical effects like stop-motion are replaced by digital images, when computers do most or all of the sculpting, animating, assembling and calculating; the craftsmanship and creativity of artistic vision gives way to the novelty and convenience of technology. The mass production of CGI effects has led to the mass production of flashy yet forgettable blockbusters with no uniqueness of their own. In contrast, Harryhausen was a pioneer of imaginative cinema and his distinct and distinguished work will live on long, long after the CGI-overloaded movie franchises are forgotten.

Ray Bradbury, 1920 - 2012

Today marks the passing of Ray Bradbury, one of the greatest science fiction writers ever to grace the genre. I honestly don't know what to write here--his body of work and artistic influence are so large that I no idea where to begin. He truly was a giant in his field.

Of the many stories he wrote that I've read over the years, one of my favorites is a short story called "The Fog Horn". Before reading it, I never thought that a story about a giant prehistoric monster could be such a heartbreaking meditation on loneliness--Bradbury was that good. This story would later inspire The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953), a movie that featured innovative stop-motion effects work by Bradbury's long-time friend, Ray Harryhausen.

There a plenty of more detailed Bradbury obits out there and I particularly recommend the one by Cartoon Brew, which will give you a better idea of how Bradbury's interests and talents extended beyond the written word.

Equinox and the Odd Story Behind a Fan-Made, Theatrically-Released Horror Film

If you follow the film industry as much as I do, then you'll know how often directors clash with studio executives when determining the final cuts of big-budget films. Such conflicts between the artists who create the art and the people who fund the art and mistakenly think that they are artists too have resulted in a long, long list of expensive failures. (Alien 3 (1992) and The Invasion (2007) immediately comes to mind.) Of course, it continues to happen--so much so with Hollywood productions that it's almost inevitable at this point--but how would you feel if the same thing happened with the theatrical release of a low-budget, fan-made film?

Such was the case with Equinox. It began as an amateur horror fan film made in 1967 (its original title: The Equinox: Journey into the Supernatural), and then it was re-edited, partially re-shot and distributed theatrically by Tonylyn Productions in 1970. For a long time, the Tonylyn version of Equinox was the only version that was available to the public; when Criterion released their two-disc set of Equinox back in 2006, they included both the original 1967 cut with the theatrical cut on the same disc (both with commentaries) for direct comparison. While neither cut are examples of horror filmmaking at its finest, the differences between the original edit and theatrical edit are astonishing and reflect how much the fans got right--fans who meticulously studied the craftsmanship that went into their favorite movies--and how much the so-called professionals got wrong.

Read on for my complete comparison of the two versions of Equinox, and how no movie is too small for creative differences between creators and producers.

In both edits, Equinox is about a group of college students who travel to the cabin owned by college professor, Dr. Arthur Waterman (Fritz Leiber Jr.), to check up on him because of his recent absence from their campus. They arrive to find that the cabin has been torn apart and Waterman is missing. Their search for the professor leads them to a mysterious text called the Book of the Damned that is filled with ancient inscriptions and spells intended to open a portal to a demonic parallel world--a portal that Waterman has already opened....

What Equinox is widely known for is that it features the early work of three special effects artists who would later work on some of the most popular films of the 70s, 80s, and 90s. These artists were Dennis Muren (Star Wars, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, E.T., Terminator 2, Jurassic Park, A.I., War of the Worlds), Dave Allen (The Howling, Willow, Ghostbusters II, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids, The Arrival) and Jim Danforth (Clash of the Titans, Creepshow, The Thing, The Neverending Story, Day of the Dead, Prince of Darkness). Muren produced the film for only $6500 and he co-directed the original cut of Equinox with Mark Thomas McGee, who also wrote the film's script. Muren and Allen worked on the stop motion effects, while Danforth provided the cel animation and matte paintings.

A forced perspective shot from Equinox.

Essentially, Equinox is a demo reel for the early effects work of Muren, Allen and Danforth; that the demo reel also happens to have an intriguing and creative story--albeit a poorly acted, poorly scripted and somewhat disjointed story--is simply a bonus. Considering that the film was shot on a tiny budget with amateur talents, the end results are very impressive.

Many aspects of Equinox echo the influence that the horror and sci-fi fan culture of the early-to-mid 20th century had on budding young filmmakers; depending on how you look at it, Equinox is a love letter of sorts to the creature features of that era. Muren and Allen were devoted fans of pioneering stop motion animators Willis O'Brien and Ray Harryhausen, and several of the effects scenes in Equinox are clearly influenced by O'Brien and Harryhausen movies such as Mighty Joe Young and It Came from Beneath the Sea.

Forrest J. Ackerman makes an uncredited cameo in Equinox by lending his voice to an audio recording that plays early in the film (he also provided a video introduction for the Criterion Equinox set). Ackerman's contributions to the horror and science fiction genres were numerous, and his biggest legacy to the fans of those genres was a magazine he published called Famous Monsters of Filmland. Famous Monsters differed from other entertainment magazines of its time by focusing on the artistry that's performed behind the scenes, such as special effects and creature costume designs. Muren and his production crew must've been devoted acolytes of Ackerman's magazine and the movies it covered, because their love of classic creature features and the techniques that brought them to cinematic life is on display in each frame of their original cut of Equinox. Such open affection provides a sort of charm that offsets some of the amateur film's more uneven aspects.

The theatrical release poster for Equinox.

Dennis Muren and Mark Thomas McGee 

were not credited on this poster.

The theatrical version of Equinox saw the addition of new footage, footage that was produced by Jack H. Harris and written and directed by Jack Woods. Some of the new footage consisted of re-shoots of what was in the first version, while the other new footage added new scenes, new characters and new dialogue. Unfortunately, the new additions to the story add nothing of value to the film; if anything, Equinox becomes even worse because of it. The dialogue is more wooden and is loaded with redundant exposition, the new subplots weigh down the film's pacing, and some of the original effects footage was cut to accommodate the new footage (!). Adding insult to injury, the theatrical version of the film begins and ends the same way as the original version--which emphasizes exactly how useless the new footage is.

All I can figure is that Woods thought that Equinox would be his big break as a writer and director (hint: it wasn't), so he tried to put as much of his stamp on it as possible. It should also be noted here that the theatrical version of Equinox lists Woods as director and co-writer, while Muren's credit went from being the co-director and producer to just associate producer. Woods even put himself in front of the camera as a new character named Asmodeus, a demon who assumes the guise of a park ranger and exerts his sinister influence over young ladies by making funny faces at them before feeling them up (no, I'm not kidding). Considering that Harris made a name for himself by producing The Blob in 1958 for only $120,000, it's a shame that he was willing to let Woods run roughshod over the work that was so passionately and cost-effectively made by Muren and his crew.

Asmodeus (Jack Woods), as he grimaces, puckers, clenches 

and frowns his way into the soul of an innocent victim.

Equinox has long been rumored to have greatly influenced yet another low-budget cult classic, Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead. To be sure, the films are very different from each other, and the Evil Dead films (particularly Evil Dead 2) are much darker, scarier and better plotted than Equinox. However, the Evil Dead movies feature so many of the same details as Equinox--the cabin in the woods, the prominent role of a tape recorder, an ancient book of dark incantations that summons demonic creatures and opens portals to other worlds, a necklace that is key to warding off evil, a group of teenagers being attacked by monsters that appear and disappear, and so on--that it's hard to deny the connection. Click here to see a visual comparison between Equinox and the Evil Dead movies on The Lucid Nightmare site.


The way I see it, Equinox and The Evil Dead are low-budget bookends of sorts to the changes that horror cinema went through during the 70s. Equinox reflects the heavy influence of O'Brien, Harryhausen and Ackerman on one generation of horror film fans, whereas The Evil Dead reflects the heavy influence of George Romero, Tobe Hooper and Wes Craven on a later generation of horror film fans.

Because Equinox at its best is a cheap fan-made film, your interest in seeing it will greatly depend on how much you would like to see this kind of film from another time in film history. In other words, you don't watch Equinox to see a classic horror film; instead, you watch it to see an example of how fans from a particular era applied what they learned about the crafts practiced by their movie idols to a film they financed and produced on their own, and how that film was later changed for the worse by someone else for theatrical release.

I've seen plenty of movies that were released on DVD and Blu-ray as both a theatrical cut and a director's cut, but this is the first and only time I've seen this situation occur with a fan film. For that reason alone, I highly recommend Criterion's release of Equinox for anyone who is interested in horror and sci-fi fan culture. You should also try to see Criterion's Equinox if you believe that modern CGI-based special effects lack the creativity and finesse of older special effects techniques such as matte paintings, forced perspective and stop motion animation. Click here to read Glenn Erickson's review at DVD Talk of both discs that are in Criterion's set; however, if you are interested in seeing both versions of Equinox but have no interested in buying it, the first disc of the Criterion release is available for rental through Netflix.

In 1985, Equinox was distributed on VHS by 

Wizard Video under the title The Beast.

2D Movies That I Want to See in 3D

With Hollywood cranking out one 3D movie after another, quite a few older 2D movies are hopping on the bandwagon through post-production conversion to 3D. George Lucas plans to re-release all six of the Star Wars movies in 3D, and James Cameron will do the same for Titanic. With that in mind, here is a chronological list of films that, if possible, I would like to see converted into high-quality 3D movies. Read on...


War of the Worlds (1953 and/or 2005)

I'm flexible regarding this title, since both of these adaptations of H.G. Wells' classic novel would be wonderful to see in 3D. If you convert George Pal's version, you get the golden, ominous manta ray-like alien war machines trashing Los Angeles in 3D. If you convert Steven Spielberg's version, you get the towering, jellyfish-like alien tripods and close-ups of people being vaporized into dust, with nothing but their clothing left behind, in 3D. It's a win-win situation in my book. In fact, if the 3D conversion of Pal's movie follows Spielberg's opinion regarding the digital remastering of movies for high-definition release, you'll get to see both the floating war machines AND the piano wires that supported them in glorious 3D!

---

Them! (1954)

According to various sources, this classic big bug movie was originally supposed to be both in color and in 3D. Unfortunately, as the movie's fictitious mutant ants got bigger its real-life budget got smaller, resulting in a 2D, black and white movie that only has a few seconds of color footage in its beginning. Being a big bug movie fan, I'd love to see how this film would've looked had its original budget permitted color and 3D. (While I'm strictly against colorization of black and white movies, I'll make an exception in this case if it is done well and in 3D.)

---

The Creature Walks Among Us (1956)

This may not be the best sequel to Creature from the Black Lagoon, but it's the only film in the Creature trilogy that's not in 3D. Converting this movie to 3D--as well as converting its two predecessors from anaglyph 3D to a modern 3D format--would make for a great 3D Creature triple feature and/or a fantastic 3D Blu-ray box set.

---

Tron (1982)

Disney, if you are seeing this post, please read the following three step plan very carefully. First, approach George Lucas. (Don't say that you don't know him because I know that you've worked with him before--you just re-launched his Star Tours ride in your theme parks, OK?) Then, ask if you can borrow whatever thingamajig or doodad he's using to convert his Star Wars movies to 3D. Finally, use this device to convert the original Tron and re-release it in the theaters and/or on Blu-ray. With the bajillion dollars of money you have stashed away, don't expect me to believe that you can't do this.

---

Gremlins and Gremlins 2 (1984 and 1990)

There are just too many scenes of inspired slapstick mayhem in both of Joe Dante's Gremlins movies that I can't imagine them not being converted into 3D. Because Dante's first award-winning foray into 3D cinema, The Hole (2009), has yet to be released in the US in its original 3D format (the only available version of this movie so far is the 2D DVD that was released in the UK, Scandinavia and Hong Kong), re-releasing his Gremlins movies in 3D would be one way to compensate for such an egregious injustice.

---

Ghostbusters (1984)

Given the number of nifty special effects that were used in this blockbuster movie, it would be the perfect candidate for 3D conversion. Ghosts, demon dogs, and nuclear-powered positronic energy beams that trash a classy hotel, all in 3D? Count me in! Furthermore, with Ghostbusters 3 stuck in pre-production limbo, a 3D re-release of the first film would be a more than adequate substitute.

---

Evil Dead 2 (1987)

Yet another example of humorous, absurd horror that would benefit greatly by being converted into the third dimension. I suppose that the other two Evil Dead movies should get the 3D treatment too, but I think the middle movie would make the best usage of the 3D format with its dynamic selection of camera tricks, special effects and feats of "splatstick" comedy. Groovy!

---

Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988)

There are plenty of other examples where live-action actors have co-mingled with hand-drawn, 2D characters, but this film by Robert Zemeckis is one of the most ambitious. Converting this film to 3D would enhance the film's already impressive visual illusion of flesh and blood characters interacting with those made of ink and paint. Furthermore, where else would you be able to see both Bugs Bunny and Mickey Mouse in 3D?

---

Arachnophobia (1990)

Somewhere out there, movie gimmick master William Castle is looking at our new CGI and 3D technology and wondering why nobody has made a 3D CGI film about a horde of tiny, killer bugs. This could be a film about a swarm of flying killer insects, which appear to fly out of the screen and into the audience (along with a surround sound audio track of buzzing to make the audience feel immersed inside of the swarm), or a film about a swarm of creepy, crawly killer insects that appear to scurry out of the screen (along with carefully placed buzzers hidden in seats throughout the theater and activated randomly during these scenes). Until this kind of movie is made, someone might as well convert Arachnophobia from 2D to 3D.

---

The Spider-Man trilogy (2002-2007)

There are plenty of superhero movies out there that would probably look great in 3D. Marvel has taken notice: Both Thor and Captain America are being released in both 2D and 3D versions. Yet I think that the superhero movies that would look the most spectacular in 3D would be Sam Raimi's Spider-Man movies. Spidey's mid-air acrobatics and high-flying duels with villains such as the Green Goblin and Dr. Octopus are perfect for the 3D format. (Case in point: The Universal Studio Theme Park's The Amazing Adventures of Spider-Man 3D simulator ride.) If Sony refuses 3D conversions to be made of the Spider-Man films that they own, Marvel could always do it for the Iron Man movies, The Incredible Hulk, or the short-lived computer animated Spider-Man TV series.

---

Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow (2004)

As pulp sci-fi films go, Sky Captain has to be the most underrated. Even though Star Wars and its countless knockoffs modeled their narratives after pulp sci-fi from the 30s, 40s and 50s, they utilized a dirty, gritty "used universe" look. In contrast, Sky Captain took the sleek and shiny pulp sci-fi art from the same era and gleefully made sweet, sweet cinematic love to it on the silver screen. Thus, to see such artwork get both the high-def CGI treatment AND high-quality 3D conversion would be every pulp sci-fi aficionado's dream come true.

---

Anything by Ray Harryhausen

When Tim Burton and Henry Selick's The Nightmare Before Christmas movie was re-released in 3D, it proved that 2D stop-motion animation could be successfully converted to 3D. Thus, why not perform 3D conversions for the work done by one of the most influential stop-motion pioneers, Ray Harryhausen? Jason and the Argonauts, Mysterious Island, Earth vs. the Flying Saucers, 20 Million Miles to Earth ... the list goes on and on of works that he created that are excellent candidates for conversion to 3D.

John Brosio: Beautiful Disasters, Space Adventures and Bloody Bridal Horrors on Canvas

I first saw the above painting on the 3-D Monsters blog, which told me the name of the artist who painted it: John Brosio. I initially thought that the painting was a tribute of sorts to the giant monster movies of the 50s and/or the stop-motion animation work of Ray Harryhausen and Willis O'Brien. After doing some more research on Brosio, it turns out that I was kind of right but there's more going on in this painting--much, much more. Read on for more information about this unique artist, his influences, and some additional examples of his work.

The giant crab painting is titled "Fatigue 2". Its predecessor in the series, "Fatigue" (see below) features a giant octopus much like the one seen in Harryhausen's It Came From Beneath The Sea, although this super-sized, sea-faring cephalopod appears to prefer suburbia over the San Francisco bay.

While these two paintings suggest that Brosio is a painter of giant monsters, that's neither entirely correct nor incorrect. Brosio's main interests are larger-than-life monsters of an all too real variety: tornadoes. When you go to his site to see his work, he has four galleries of paintings devoted to tornadoes, each portrayed in a wide variety of colors, shapes and settings. Thus, the giant monster paintings are thematic parallels to the tornado paintings: they both depict massive disasters (either in their beginnings or in progress), with the tornado paintings operating on the literal level and the monster paintings operating on the metaphorical. Another curious detail is that in both sets of paintings, the people who appear in them appear mostly indifferent in reaction to what they are seeing. As mentioned in Bonnie Gangelhoff's 2003 interview with Brosio in Southwest Art magazine:

The tornado is both a thing of terrible beauty and a metaphor for modern life, as far as Brosio is concerned. “My tornado paintings seem to move back and forth between two pursuits—an inquiry into the phenomenon itself and its use as an element of allusion in allegory,” he says. In many ways his paintings are scenes from movies that don’t exist. More often than not they are composites of tornadoes he has witnessed and various elements from his everyday life and imagination. ... But that isn’t all. As with many of Brosio’s works, there is more going on than meets the eye at first glance. ... (P)eople appear oblivious to the tornado hovering overhead. They mill about—life goes on in spite of the danger. The work is also a comment on how people view violence, Brosio says, and the tornado is a symbol of that violence. “People are numb to violence in this country, and they don’t want to see it,” he says. “Violence has become so accepted that they say, ‘Oh, it’s just happening there. Let’s just walk around it.’”

The Brosio interview is fascinating to read, and it reveals quite a few insights about Brosio's inspirations and professional background. For example, Brosio interned in the Creature Department at Lucasfilm's Industrial Light and Magic (ILM) special effects studio at one point in his career. He was later commissioned by Lucasfilm in 2006 to produce "Redemption" (see below) as part of the 30th anniversary of the Star Wars saga. Go to Brosio's site to learn more about "Redemption" and other examples of his commissioned art.

The interview also mentions another recurring theme in Brosio's work, the depiction of things that are both beautiful and dangerous. This not only applies to Brosio's paintings of the tornados, but also to his paintings of various animals (such as snakes, scorpions and sharks) and his ghoulish series of "Fatherless Bride (1-5)" paintings, as seen below.