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Reviews
The Vagabond King (1930)
This is a question to you film experts out there
Does anyone know when shooting on this film started? I know that films in this era took only a short time to film. Was this one standard in production, or did it take longer? Anyone who knows the background of this film, I would like to talk to you. I don't have anything else to say. So, in order to reach the ten lines I have to add ballast So, this is ballast Any information is appreciated Any hints on how I might view this film in Technicolor are appreciated. I think this may be one of those films held hostage. Why those who love these films, preserve them, restore them, save them, object so strenuously to people seeing the results of their efforts.
Thank you.
Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982)
Real horror
Why am I drawn to this "B" movie, featuring a truck driver, complete with six-pack, cigarettes, and swilling booze from a bottle in a paper bag, masquerading as a physician and displaying as much attention to his children as any other tom cat; and a young lady so grief stricken over the brutal murder of her father she can't wait to hop in the sack with the truck dri...I mean doctor? Maybe it's the theme. There's nothing really supernatural here. No aliens, giant bugs, monsters, or slashers which can't be killed. No, it's just good old fashioned man's inhumanity to man, complete with ever present surveillance cameras and robotic secret police. And it isn't the gods/G-d/Allah, no just their agent. Just Al Quaida, the Taliban, Hezbollah, or the Nazis. As a realistically chilling Cochran, pinch hitting for Osama or Adolph, observes, 'It isn't we who decide. No. It's the planets who do.' And, although Cochran is destroyed, just as in real life, the third commercial stays on. Everyone doesn't die, at least not yet. The planes only hit two tall buildings and kill thousands. All Jews don't go to the gas chambers, just six million. And all the kids don't turn into masses of crickets, only the ones with Silver Shamrock masks who turn to the third channel for the big giveaway, eager as are the people with their fake bars of soap for their showers. Cochran is just doing his gods' work, just like Osama, and just like Adolph for his racially pure state. He doesn't care about future profits ('they won't let me order for next year, they know I like to work ahead'), just as Iran doesn't worry about annihilating its customers, and Germany regarded murdering Jews as a higher priority than winning a war. Like Goering laughing at Nuremberg, 'It's a joke on the children,' beams Cochran. Perhaps, even if unevenly acted, for me the real horror is more effective than the contrived.