Review Category: DVD/Blu Ray

Having directed the Alastair Sim An Inspector Calls and Goldfinger earlier in his career, Guy Hamilton became the Bond director of choice in the early 1970s, before moving on to make two Agatha Christie adaptations – following the misfiring but under-rated 1978 sequel to The Guns of Navarone – early in the 1980s. 

The first of these was The Mirror Crack’d, in which Hamilton used his well-earned reputation to assemble an all-star cast as the film company who have descended upon the small village of St. Mary Mead in order to mount a production of the story of Elizabeth I. The mystery begins when local volunteer Heather Babcock (Maureen Bennett) dies after drinking a poisoned cocktail apparently intended for Marina Rudd, the star of the film. Thereafter – in the original at least, albeit a little less so here – layer after layer of suspicious behaviour is thrown into relief, before Miss Marple finally unveils the perpetrator by clarifying their motivation in committing the crime. 

There are a few changes to the Christie book (named for a line in Tennyson’s The Lady of Shalott), notably the period in which the film is set. Rather than the year of its publication, Hamilton takes the plot back almost a decade to 1953, presumably to exacerbate the contrast between the innocence of the English villagers and the crudeness of the American visitors. The Mirror Crack’d thus focuses much of its sometimes quite sophisticated – and occasionally rather too knowing – humour at satirising the mores of the then film industry, although this emphasis is perhaps at the expense of a truly satisfying narrative. Familiarity with the material and its heroine, a familiarity that was probably much less intense nearly forty years ago, makes it rather easier to second-guess the plot complications and their resolution than it really ought to be. 

And while The Mirror Crack’d was instrumental in creating Angela Lansbury’s reputation as a sleuth, especially in America, she’s a rather sturdier Marple than possibly we might expect, towering over several of her co-stars, and making the accident which side-lines her for much of the running time feel a touch contrived. 

The acting, however, is as you would expect nothing short of splendid. Right from the pre-titles’ film-within-a-film sequence, there’s a deliciously self-aware ambience about the film and its performances that only serves to highlight those moments – most notably from Elizabeth Taylor (as Rudd) and Rock Hudson (as her philandering husband) – where the pathos kicks in.

For the more hard-line Christie aficionados, Hamilton’s film is likely to be just a little too casual in its adaptation. For the less discriminating, it’s a blast. Not a classic by anyone’s estimation, but a polished, slick and compelling entertainment, and never looking better than in this gorgeous restoration.

Special Featues: new interviews with Dame Angela Lansbury, writer Barry Sandler and producer Richard Goodwin / stills / storyboard galleries

THE MIRROR CRACK’D (1980) / CERT: PG / DIRECTOR: GUY HAMILTON / SCREENPLAY: JONATHAN HALES, BARRY SANDLER / STARRING: ANGELA LANSBURY, ROCK HUDSON, ELIZABETH TAYLOR, TONY CURTIS, KIM NOVAK, GERALDINE CHAPLIN, EDWARD FOX / RELEASE DATE: 23RD OCTOBER

Guy Hamilton’s second and final Agatha Christie adaptation was, in effect, a sequel to John Guillermin’s Death on the Nile, the 1978 film that had introduced Peter Ustinov as the definitive big-screen Hercule Poirot. Expanding on the success of that sun-drenched, holiday-set thriller, Evil Under the Sun relocates from Christie’s beloved Devon to the Adriatic, allowing for some gorgeous photography (looking glorious in this lovely new restoration) in and around Majorca. Similarly, Hamilton’s film takes Christie’s now over-familiar plot and fills it with an array of Hollywood stars and renowned character actors, shifting the emphasis into the realms of the larger than life.

Sir Horace Blatt employs Poirot to seek out the expensive jewel he’d presented to the actress Arlena Stuart during their short-lived relationship, and which she had surreptitiously kept upon breaking off the affair. Poirot arrives at the exclusive island retreat of Daphne Castle, to find an assembled party almost all of whom have reasons for feeling rather less than hospitable towards the adultering diva. After a first half in which the characters are introduced and their motives for murder provided, Arlena turns up dead and it’s down to our eccentric Belgian sleuth to work out precisely how and why. 

Evil Under the Sun is no less self-aware than Hamilton’s previous Christie adaptation, but the script – co-written by The Wicker Man’s Anthony Shaffer – does this time keep its focus rather more closely on the characters and their motivations. If the resolution relies just a touch too much on the rest of the cast behaving exactly as the murderer needs them to at any given moment, it’s easy to willingly suspend disbelief given the journey we undertake in order to reach it. Ustinov gives a very different, but equally arresting, take on Poirot that makes him every bit as iconic as David Suchet’s subsequent TV version, and the rest of the cast are palpably and infectiously having an absolute ball with their parts. 

It would be impossible to single out anyone other than Ustinov as the star of the production, but Diana Rigg is very effective against type as the self-interested victim of the plot, while the likes of Colin Blakely, James Mason and Roddy McDowell manage to make a huge impression in what might have felt like lesser roles. Maggie Smith is perhaps the heart of the drama as Castle, instilling the story with enough pathos to make it something less than the arch star vehicle it could otherwise have seemed.

Perhaps less celebrated and well-remembered than the earlier Brabourne and Goodwin Christie adaptations beginning with Murder on the Orient Express in 1974, Evil Under the Sun is easily their equal and possibly even the best of them.

Special Features: new interviews with costume designer Anthony Powell, writer Barry Sandler and producer Richard Goodwin / behind the scenes and costume designs / stills galleries

EVIL UNDER THE SUN (1982) / CERT: PG / DIRECTOR: GUY HAMILTON / SCREENPLAY: ANTHONY SHAFFER, BARRY SANDLER (uncredited) / STARRING: PETER USTINOV, JANE BIRKIN, COLIN BLAKELY, NICHOLAS CLAY, JAMES MASON, RODDY McDOWELL, SYLVIA MILES, DENIS QUILLEY, DIANA RIGG, MAGGIE SMITH / RELEASE DATE: 23RD OCTOBER

Peter Sellers and Blake Edwards were a partnership that worked. When every other collaborator who fell across Sellers’ chaotic, paranoid, brilliant career path fell by the wayside, whether cast aside by the actor or simply exhausted by his odd behaviour and demands, Edwards stayed the course. Together they produced some of the most memorable and groundbreaking comedies of the 20th Century. But despite a shared CV that ran from the start of production on the first Pink Panther film in 1962 to a planned sixth Panther collaboration at the time of Sellers early death in 1980, Edwards had just as much cause to despair at Sellers’ antics as anyone else.

We can be glad Edwards forced himself to bury the hatchet after their first major falling out on A Shot in the Dark, because The Party – a passion project paying rich homage to the beloved silent comedies of Edwards’ childhood – is the very best of their films together. And who better than Sellers to play the bumbling Indian actor Hrundi V. Bakshi, the definitive idiot savant who we first encounter destroying a full-size film location set – a feat which gets him fired and banned by every Hollywood studio. But a mistake by a studio secretary sees Bakshi accidently invited to a super-deluxe party at the home of the Producer of the movie he’s just messed up. The stage is set for Bakshi to continue his guileless destruction.

The script is essentially a framework for a series of semi-improvised, dialogue-light scenes with distinctive moods cued by Seller’s superb central performance – from nervous, polite chit-chat upon arrival to hysterical enjoyment by the end. We’re drawn along on the journey, willing him to bring ever greater chaos to proceedings – be it by dumping his fellow guests in the pool while playing around with the slide-away floor control panel (the house set is a hi-tech marvel, constructed over a studio water-tank), getting drunk against his religion and smashing up the bathroom or filling the entire house with fire-damping foam. With wonderful retro-‘60s design and fashions to the fore, things go with a swing until Sellers’ finally drives away, Buster Keaton-style in his little 3-wheeled car just as the cops turn up.

Extras on this rather lovely print of the film from Eureka are largely ported from the earlier DVD and date back to 2004 but are still worth a watch. A documentary on the ‘pioneering’ use of video assist on the film is interesting (they’d obviously never heard of Gerry Anderson’s British studio in Hollywood) but is bettered by a 25-minute talking-head look back at the production which gets excellent mileage from the late, great Blake Edwards.

Even in bad films (and he made quite a few) Peter Sellers couldn’t help being good. But this is up there with his very best, which makes it damn near unmissable.

THE PARTY / CERT: PG / DIRECTOR: BLAKE EDWARDS / SCREENLAY: BLAKE EDWARDS, TOM WALDMAN, FRANK WALDMAN / STARRING: PETER SELLERS, CLAUDINE LONGET, JEAN CARSON / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

Often mistaken for a giallo film, Sergio Martino’s The Suspicious Death of a Minor belongs to the other popular ‘70s Italian sub-genre; Politziotteschi films. Gaining popularity around the same time as the giallo film, Politziotteschi was essentially the action crime thriller response to the economic, political, and cultural developments at the end of the ‘60s. Martino, a genre-enthusiast with a stream of films in both genres, proved a skilful director with a consummate understanding of mystery filmmaking. Though he arguably doesn’t have the respect of other Italian directors of the period, Martino is a reliable curator of thrillers with a great sense of humour.

Those expecting a giallo will be disappointed. The seediness of Italian giallo is present in the story (underage girls used in the sex trade, murder with a cut-throat razor) but the tone is surprisingly light. It never feels as seedy as Argento’s giallo’s or even the Politziotteschi films of other directors. The film eventually becomes a buddy film between a high-ranking secret investigator and a pickpocket. There’s a great car chase, crammed with farcical OTT comedy to the point where it feels like it was cut from a Roger Moore Bond film. But the moral compass of the Politziotteschi films was often, like giallo, not pointing true and straight. The Suspicious Death of a Minor is no exception. Sure, its heroes distance themselves from the order of law in order to pursue “justice”, but they also mug sex workers and treat the women they try to save like trash.

Writer Ernesto Gastaldi has a talent for subtle black humour, using the thriller structure of The Suspicious Death of a Minor to rip the piss out of Italian police officers and put many of his contemporaries to shame with a savvy script. Gastaldi treats his audience like adults, refusing to spell things out in the moment, allowing his character work to talk for itself. Surprises are followed by bold character defining choices, people have their own consistent moral codes that operate independent of each other, but Gastaldi doesn’t get too bogged down in lecturing us. What he does do is deliver a nicely wound mystery film which pulls off some really dramatic thriller set pieces, not least the dramatic conclusion on board a hollow car-carrying train, and a shootout on a rollercoaster.

The Suspicious Death of a Minor is, perhaps problematically, a fun thriller, caught between the alluring action farce of a ‘70s Bond film and the seedy moral cavern of Italian Giallo. Taking aim at every level of Italian culture, Martino and Gastaldi put together a surprisingly enjoyable caper. Sure the hard-hitting exploitation of a title and subject like that are dismissed early, but as a film its watchable and nicely put together.

THE SUSPICIOUS DEATH OF A MINOR / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR: SERGIO MARTINO / SCREENPLAY: ERNESTO GASTALDI, SERGIO MARTINO / STARRING: CLAUDIO CASSINELLI, MEL FERRER, LIA TANZI / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

Produced in the late 1950s by Kirk Douglas via his recently established production company, The Vikings is one those full-blooded, vividly colourful epics that Hollywood did so well. Based on a novel released earlier in the decade by Edison Marshall, it’s a tale of pillaging, warring brothers and desire that gave Douglas the chance to play a real anti-hero. Inspired by the same legends of Norse warrior Ragnar Lodbrook as the History Channel’s current hit Vikings, it tells of Ragnar visiting England (to pillage, of course) and unbeknownst to him leaving behind a son who might just be the heir to the throne.

Some decades later that son, Eric (Curtis) is now a slave in the camp of Ragnar (oh, ignore that contrivance, it’s a luxury the film earns) where his dad’s legitimate son, Einar (Douglas) is just itching to go a-pillaging to England himself. Without knowing who the other actually is, Eric and Einar come to blows, with Janet Leigh’s English princess Morgana the ‘prize’ each covets. It’s a great example of the epic movie, moving along quickly, not too long, well written with some ambition and acted with passion by a talented cast. We’ll give a special shout out to Douglas, commanding as the proud, lustful Einar, and Frank Thring as the devious English king Aella.

This Eureka release presents the film in broadly acceptable style. The print is hardly a pristine one, but you’ll rarely notice as The Vikings comes from the time of Technicolor and Jack Cardiff’s photography pops throughout, aided by beautiful European locations (mostly Norway). Despite the occasional minor damage evident, it’s frequently sharp and as good as it’s going to get for now. Fleischer’s direction is solid and he even allows himself a flourish here and there, most notably in the castle-set conclusion.

While there’s not a lot on offer, the extras are also solid, comprised mainly of a 30-plus minute interview with film historian Sheldon Hall which provides context and analysis, as well as an archival making-of presented by Fleischer himself that’s full of on-set photos and the director’s reminiscing about what went into putting the movie together. It comes with a booklet on the film (not available at review) and the trailer as well. Overall, while the presentation certainly won’t blow you away, it’s a worthy package for fans of the film.

In these days of anti-hero protagonists too, it’s an example of the above average writing in this more complex than usual film here that although Douglas is the nominal antagonist, Curtis’ ‘hero’ is an unmitigated swine who cuts a swathe of destruction through the lives of all around him. Highly recommended.

THE VIKINGS / CERT: PG / DIRECTOR: RICHARD FLEISCHER / SCREENPLAY: CALDER WILLINGHAM / STARRING: KIRK DOUGLAS, TONY CURTIS, JANET LEIGH, ERNEST BORGNINE / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

Ostensibly based upon the true story of the 1981 Keddie murders, albeit described in the opening caption as “entirely fictitious”, Cabin 28 affects to finally resolve the truth about who killed Sue Sharp and three of the six children staying with her on the Keddie Resort Road that April night. And while it points the finger very distinctly at perhaps three of the four people it decides were responsible, Andrew Jones’ film is such a muddle of invention and insubstantiation, it’s as difficult to credit its conclusions with any veracity, as it is to enjoy such a slight and yet ponderous film in its own right (In order to bulk up the running time, a single page of credits crawls up the screen at about the speed Marion Crane makes it to Bates’ place in Gus van Sant’s Psycho remake – and that’s symptomatic of the entire production).

To be fair, the build-up to the event is better handled than it might have been, the highlight of sorts being the conversation Harriet Rees’ Tina (twelve in “real life”, rather older here, and pinpointed as the possible reason for the brutal deaths) has with one of the prospective killers through the cabin door. Despite the archness of her potential attacker’s performance (some of the acting is straight out of a junior school production, although some is rather better), this sequence is probably about as eerie and as tense as Cabin 28 gets. Thereafter there’s a lot of very slow travelling around a very small location as the writer and director attempt to drag the killings out to fill the middle third of a film that, to its credit, at least attempts to illustrate a snapshot of the incident’s aftermath.

There’s an attempt, in the use of sourced music, to give the killings themselves the feel of something far more creative and intelligent, but the lack of imagination in the cinematography and editing instead makes the sequence feel trite and contrived, as if the filmmakers know how little flair they’ve brought to the production and are attempting to repair some of the damage after the fact. Also repairing things after the fact is the repeated use of slow motion and monochrome flashbacks, slowing the final few minutes to something less than a crawl as Jones desperately tries to extend the running time to what casual renters might consider “feature length”.

There are less productive ways to waste an hour and ten minutes of your time, but most of them involve wet paint that’s already been applied. A few examples of some nice photography and what can best be described as an eccentric score aside, this isn’t going to reward you seeking it out.

CABIN 28 / CERT: 18 / DIRECTOR: ANDREW JONES / SCREENPLAY: JOHN KLYZA / STARRING: TERI DWYER, HARRIET REES, BRENDEE GREEN, GARETH LAWRENCE, LINNY BUSHEY, LEE BANE / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

Taking its cue from The Conjuring, Dee McLachlan’s Out of the Shadows is a beautifully shot and scored, but otherwise almost entirely redundant Australian horror flick, biting off considerably more ideas than it ever bothers to chew. 

Eric Hughes (Northfield) is a police officer investigating the murder of a pregnant woman, whose child seems to have been the target for the killer, the child’s father. Cut to Hughes and his wife Kat (Rae) finding a new home – an abandoned rural maternity unit that’s too big and too cheap not to have shadows in its past. Literal shadows, it turns out; soon after they move in Kat starts seeing, and hearing, inexplicable things. Meanwhile, Linda Dee (Chappell), the less-than-willing assistant to Father Joe Phillips (Bakaitis), is being returned to his charge on probation after becoming involved with demonologists. Thus the stage is set for possession, attempted feticide, ghosts and exorcism.

The issue here is the confused narrative. Out of the Shadows is never quite sure if it’s about ghosts or demons – or even a serial killer – and never pauses for long enough to allow itself to decide. So many potential jump scares become missed opportunities as the surprise arrives too early in the shot or sequence for any tension to have built up, and almost every puzzle the narrative unlocks is solved within moments. The characters never have to do any hunting to find clues or solutions, and the entire film ultimately feels like an exercise in tell don’t show. With both mysteries and scares thrown away, it all makes for a very frustrating experience.

Even more frustrating is Kendal Rae as the pregnant Kat, a very striking looking actress who sadly switches all too readily between wooden and hysterical with apparently no register in between. The rest of the cast is just as exasperating, almost all demonstrating abilities far beyond anything the script calls for them to do, and struggling with characters so thinly written (or too ready to allow the story to jump to conclusions on their behalf) it becomes impossible for them to instil any verisimilitude into their performances. 

Which is not to say Out of the Shadows is entirely a failure. Christopher Gordon’s music and Viv Scanu’s photography are gorgeous, far superior to the material they are supporting. And although it’s too hyperactive to be effective as a scary movie, the pace makes it much more watchable than it might otherwise have been. There’s promise here, but next time around Dee McLachlan needs to work out what kind of story she’s telling and stick to the brief, rather than throwing the kitchen sink at the project in the hope enough will stick to have made it worthwhile. 

OUT OF THE SHADOWS (2017) / CERT: MA (AUSTRALIA) / DIRECTOR: DEE McLACHLAN / SCREENPLAY: ERIC C. NASH, RENA OWEN, DEE McLACHLAN / STARRING: KENDAL RAE, BLAKE NORTHFIELD, LISA CHAPPELL, JIM ROBISON, HELMUT BAKAITIS / RELEASE DATE: VOD OUT NOW

Four years after the BBC informed us about sitting under tables and your leg falling off in Threads, over in America nuclear Armageddon was the basis for romantic comedy. Steve de Jarnatt wrote Miracle Mile on leaving the American Film Institute and in 1983 American Film magazine named it one of Hollywood’s ten best unproduced screenplays – but it would be another five years before de Jarnatt finally filmed it, a flop financially but one with a cult reputation.

It’s very entertaining, if oddly judged. Not strictly comedy, nor as intelligent as it needs to be, Miracle Mile hints at farce before settling on a relatively straightforward plummet into oblivion.

Starting with Anthony Edwards’ Harry Washello finally finding the girl of his dreams, across the first few minutes we’re treated to the circumstances preceding his first date with Julie (Mare Winningham, whose haircut is the most frightening thing in the movie). When their evening is interrupted by Julie’s shift at a coffee shop and Harry misses their later rendezvous after a power cut, a 4am wrong number informs him there’s only seventy minutes before atomic bombs fall on L.A. 

It’s fortunate, then, that Denise Crosby’s businesswoman Wanda happens to be partaking of an early breakfast, confirming to everyone’s satisfaction that doomsday is indeed imminent. Thus begins Harry’s search for Julie – not that difficult, as it happens – and a race against time to flee the city before a waking world discovers the truth and starts clogging the roads.

Obviously, things don’t go to plan, and we follow Harry through a succession of mini-adventures with characters like Mykelti Williamson’s low-rent fence and Brian Thompson’s ex-pilot, with his 4am keep-fit regime and a haircut nearly as startling as Winningham’s. And all the while the clock ticks down in real time, with the pressure building to the point at which L.A. bursts in a riot of looting and car-jacking.

Edwards doesn’t quite possess the gravitas necessary to authenticate the end of the world, but he holds Miracle Mile together amiably enough, such that we do actually care what happens; hints are also dropped throughout that this might be a major misunderstanding, the panic and unnecessary deaths traceable back to Harry misjudging a phone prank.

The soundtrack is as idiosyncratic as the rest of uber-1980s band Tangerine Dream’s other work, and the new transfer and special edition, filled with a plethora of worthwhile extras, make this a serious treat for those who’ve become fans of this peculiar adventure over the years. Who knows, with a certain someone’s finger on the nuclear trigger, Miracle Mile might even pick up a new audience now in 2017, desperately looking for clues as to how to survive a nuclear retaliation. 

Special Features: trailer / commentaries / interviews / The Music of Tangerine Dream / alternate ending / storyboard comparison/ cast reunion 

MIRACLE MILE (1988) / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR: STEVE DE JARNATT / SCREENPLAY: STEVE DE JARNATT / STARRING: ANTHONY EDWARDS, MARE WINNINGHAM / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW 

By the fifth film in any franchise there’s usually a diminishing of quality. Police Academy 5: Assignment Miami Beach for example, is so crap even Steve Guttenberg bailed on it (and bagged a hit in Three Men and a Baby). At this stage in the Transformers franchise, the writers seemingly admitted defeat at even trying to produce a coherently plotted film and just threw a bunch of shit at the wall to see what would stick. Problem is, it seems all the shitty ideas stuck and so we get a film that seeks to retcon Transformers into Earth’s history and shoehorn them into every major event in our species’ history.

It manages this by being fearlessly stupid. Flinging what passes for ideas and one baffling, tiresome action sequence after another at the audience, we imagine the idea was to simply pummel viewers into giving up caring about character, story or wit, charm and imagination and instead just coo ‘oooo, explosions’. And in that, it’s entirely successful. But as a film? It’s crass, dumb, insulting, creepy, teetering on racist, longer than it has any right to be, unfunny whenever it tries for ‘jokes’, and almost worse than all this it’s just so frigging boring. It’s loud too, but that’s more because if it wasn’t you would probably hear the death rattle of cinema trying to scrape its way in at the edges.

However, if you like this film or have money to piss down the drain then this release serves you well. On one disc you get the full near 2 hour 40 minute ‘epic’ in all its <ahem> glory. Picture quality is excellent, as one would expect from a major release of 2017, as is sound, music and all the other Doodads Bay uses to enhance the nonsense taking place. On the second disc is where the extras are, some 80+ minutes of various featurettes on the writing (ha!), mythology, special effects and whatever else. Are they any good? Hell if we know; after suffering nearly 3 hours of this guff we couldn’t face more than a few minutes, but it’s probably fine and (along with the technical quality) is the only reason for the rating below.

Bay assures us this is his last Transformers film but really, it doesn’t matter, the damage is already done. Seriously though, it’s pretty obvious the guy that made The Rock (a great ‘big’ studio nonsense-action film) just doesn’t give two craps about whether the movies he puts out are any good anymore and that’s a shame. This is just an artless, joyless dirge of a string of terrible decisions fluffed up with fancy effects to distract from the fact it’s pure bollocks. Bah.

TRANSFORMERS: THE LAST KNIGHT / CERT: 12A / DIRECTOR: MICHAEL BAY / SCREENPLAY: ART MARCUM, MATT HOLLOWAY, KEN NOLAN / STARRING: MARK WAHLBERG, JOSH DUHAMEL, STANLEY TUCCI, ANTHONY HOPKINS, LAURA HADDOCK / RELEASE DATE: 30TH OCTOBER

Certain strands of popular fiction have stereotypes attached to them that are so engrained they form part of their lasting identity on the popular culture spectrum – flash fiction, grindhouse, erotic dinosaur literature (seriously, that’s a legitimate thing – Starburst even covered the genre some months back). However, the granddaddy of this subversive attitude towards popular mediums of fiction with otherwise good intentions is surely the B’ movie. It’s rather incredible that an entire era of movies, able to traverse such different themes as science fiction, horror and fantasy with camp aplomb, can be condensed into a single letter, isn’t it?

Fabulous’ nine-disc The Killer B’ Movie Collection is an endlessly handsome reminder of how the B’ movie, despite being skeletal in the quality of its execution, was abundant in enthusiasm for tackling the mad and the weird. Collecting nine movies from between 1939 to 1964, no expense is spared in capturing the best of the worst. Littered throughout these nine escapades are creatures from other worlds, often without any concept of right or wrong, intent only on destroying, murdering, consuming. Mad scientists, experiments gone wrong and monsters accidentally let loose serve as the chief plot device throughout these madcap stories.

All sounds lovely on paper, but time has a way of romanticising that which might be perhaps left alone. When watched individually, the scars of an industry keen to exploit the zeitgeist of adventures focusing on alien invasions anyway it can show rather well. 1961’s Reptilicus for example, is at its best when the titular creature doesn’t actually appear. The discovery of a fleshy portion of unknown reptile, which eventually regenerates into a dinosaur-like monster that attacks all it sees, isn’t the most inspired of premises. However, the opening half hour or so, focusing on the discovery of this cryptic creature and its unforeseen rebirth is captivatingly tense. That enjoyable slow-burn is stamped out when you finally see the pathetic Reptilicus itself, a poorly-made puppet that shoots unconvincing acid slime at any poor soul it wants.

Nevertheless, we can still enjoy these films for tackling the early mechanics of alien invasions that have so densely populated popular fiction with a charming, gleeful abandon. 1960’s The Angry Red Planet has a loose, ethereal allure to its humans-visiting-unknown-world scenario. Even The Blob, which hasn’t aged well in the slightest, has reckless fun with its fusion of soppy teen romance and alien-takeover plot devices.

What unites these films, other than their limp presentation, is a fascination with how creatures and technology from beyond this world should be treated as an unknown, and therefore a danger. Granted, those fears are often well founded when these freakish monsters start attacking you for no good reason, but this era was cinematic science fiction’s baby steps. It’s easy to be less than forgiving about the quality of these films when so much has come after them, but would any of your favourite science fiction movies ever have happened had these films not come bursting through the gates, charging at full speed with Reptilicus-like fury towards unsuspecting audiences?

For anyone curious about science fiction’s early days on the big screen, The Killer B’ Movie Collection is an excellent starting point. It’s highly recommended that you binge-watch these films rather than view them one at a time. That way, the enthusiasm each of these films boast for handling their respective themes and ideas has just enough muscle to mask the often poor direction, writing or acting. Then again, isn’t that part of the fun with B’ movies? As mentioned, time has a way of romanticising things, but history seems to have cemented the idea that the perceived ‘awfulness’ of a b’ movie is part of its appeal. The Killer B’ Movie Collection is a joyous testament to that idea.

THE KILLER B’ MOVIE COLLECTION / CERT: 15 / DIRECTORS: VARIOUS / SCREENPLAY: VARIOUS / STARRING: STEVE MCQUEEN, ANETA CORSAUT, GERALD MOHR / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW