All posts by Rod Lott

Ransomed (2023)

Loosely based on true events, Ransomed, from director Kim Seong-hun (2016’s Tunnel), sets into motion with the abduction — and presumed death — of a South Korean diplomat by Lebanese terrorists in Beirut.

One year later, however, a telephone call of Morse code to the South Korean government suggests the diplomat is alive. Rather than risk embarrassment, Foreign Affairs officials decide to go around proper channels — like intelligence agencies — and pursue an under-the-radar rescue operation. They send the mild-mannered company man who answered that late-night call: Deputy Lee Min-jun (Ha Jung-woo of Park Chan-wook’s The Handmaiden). 

With a cash ransom of $2.5 million on his person, Min-jun lands in Beirut and gains an partner in slick-talking cabbie Pan-su (Ju Ji-hoon, The Spy Gone North). Pan-su’s an unwitting partner at first, forced into the situation by mere accident.

So begins the formula of every American buddy action-comedy of the 1980s and ’90s, only Ransomed often diverts from that well-laid path. Seong-hun offers no quips, no catchphrases, no “I’m too old for this shit”-type of shenanigans. As “wacky” as the poster sells the film, the film is not interested in being, say, Rush Hour 4.

This makes sense. Although compelling for the screen, the real-ilfe story of Do Chae Sung was too dire and dangerous to play for laughs. Seong-hun respects that while also administering the proper dosage of adrenaline to give the action sequences the punch to which modern audiences are accustomed.

Ransomed isn’t perfect, but Jung-woo and Ji-hoon — individually and in their interplay — often make you believe otherwise, except in an Act 2 lag. Knowledge of Eastern world politics may help you better understand the the plot nuances, but in terms of pure entertainment, the film transcends all barriers. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

Mummy Movies: A Comprehensive Guide

To, ahem, wrap things up from the outset: With Mummy Movies: A Comprehensive Guide, Bryan Senn does it again!

Fresh from the slopes of 2022’s Ski Films, the prolific author unearths 138 mummy films in total after the applying all his filters: no shorts, no TV episodes, no hardcore porn, no fleeting appearances and no fakes. While that last qualifier smothers my hopes of reading Senn tear into The Mummy Theme Park, what’s left (read: a lot!) is sure to delight any fan of the subgenre. Horror naturally makes up a good chunk of that, but is hardly the stopping point.

After a brief introduction getting into the history of mummies in real life and popular culture (breakfast cereal included), Senn gets into the good stuff: excavating the films one by one. In Senn’s usual immersive style for such guides, the entries provide a proper balance of plot summary, behind-the-scenes information and critical review — explored in such depth and fully researched, each practically inches toward monograph status.

From Boris Karloff and Brendan Fraser to Christopher Lee and, um, Tom Cruise, all the highlights and their sequels are covered, exactly as you’d expect. But anyone could do that. What makes Mummy Movies worth your investment are all the other titles he takes great pains to incorporate, ranging from Mexploitation (Santo!) to animation (Yu-Gi-Oh!?), and from comedy to kung fu. The only thing crazier than the cheap cartoons is the bulging sack of erotica, movies that bring boredom along with a most anachronistic element: silicone.

Noting that a mummy is more than a “zombie wrapped in toilet paper,” Senn holds a lot of love for his subject. As do I. That’s why the book is useful as a reference work, too, because he calls ’em as he sees ’em. For example, should you spend your time with:
• the wrestling spoof Monster Brawl? Yes.
• the collegian-made The University of Illinois vs a Mummy? No.
• the John Carradine paycheck The Mummy and the Curse of the Jackals? Hell, no.

The only piece of Mummy Movies giving me pause is the author’s use of the capital-M “Mummy” when referring to onscreen characters, and lowercase when not. It’s hardly worth bringing up … unlike, say, Ouija Mummy or The Sex Files: Ancient Desires, Senn’s lively entertaining pans of which already have outlived the flicks themselves. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon or McFarland.

Watching the World Die: Nuclear Threat Films of the 1980s

On the cusp on turning 12, I was floored by the March 20, 1983, broadcast of Special Bulletin, the NBC made-for-TV movie designed to look like a real-time news broadcast of a nuclear incident on the East Coast, courtesy of domestic terrorists. Although I knew it was fake, the effect was so chilling that exactly eight months later, my mom forbade us from watching ABC’s highly contentious The Day After, in which the threat — and eventual nukes — came not from our own, but the Soviet Union.

We American kids grew up with the fear, worry and anxiety of nuclear war as all too tangible. U.S.-Soviet relations were so bad, the mushroom clouds were not a question of if, but when.

You had to be there. Be glad you weren’t.

Not to say 2024 is all wine and roses; despite the Cold War in our collective rearview mirror, we’re inching closer to That 1983 Feeling than we’ve ever been. At least today, we have Mike Bogue’s Watching the World Die: Nuclear Threat Films of the 1980s to keep us company. Just hopefully not in a bunker.

Something of a companion to Bogue’s previous tome, 2017’s Apocalypse Then (which focused on 1950s atomic cinema and shares McFarland & Company as publisher), Watching the World Die is, rather surprisingly, not the grim, doom-and-gloom read I expected. Documentaries aside, which the author purposely doesn’t include, the decade’s movies on the topic were largely escapist, thereby taking the edge off. Having characters like Yor, C.H.U.D., Hulk and Godzilla romping around will do that.

In all, Bogue casts his critical eye on 121 films in detail, from populist blockbusters (WarGames), well-intentioned flops (Superman IV: The Quest for Peace) and indie darlings (Miracle Mile) to three James Bond entries and many more Italian SFers. However, where Watching the World Die most excels is in rummaging through the junk drawer of VHS obscurities — not because Bogue’s writing differs in these essays (it doesn’t), but because the flicks get bonkers.

You may have heard about the Steve Barkett ego project The Aftermath, but what about Thomas A. Cohen’s survivalist family saga, Massive Retaliation? The Dack Rambo vehicle Ultra Warrior? Or Canada’s Survival 1990 with its dog-eating mutants? Giving attention to such forgotten B- and C-level genre productions is something of an archeological dig of unpopular culture; that Bogue’s shovel dug that deep into oblivion is enough to forgive his book’s exclusion of comedies — the intentional kind, I mean. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon or McFarland.

I.S.S. (2023)

Academy Award winner Ariana DeBose does the thing — playing an astronaut, that is — in the film I.S.S. Those initials are short, obviously, for International Space Station, which mice scientist Dr. Foster (DeBose, 2021’s West Side Story) joins in the opening moments.

Foster’s arrival brings the station’s total head count to six: three Americans, three Russians. Unlike their countries’ leaders, they get along pretty well. On her second day, however, that cordial relationship heads straight for the scissors when they witness massive explosions decimating Earth below. Almost immediately, both sides are ordered by their respective governments to take control of the orbiting station “by any means necessary.” Goodbye, glasnost!

If a suspense film in the stars seems an odd match for DeBose, that goes double for director Gabriela Cowperthwaite, the acclaimed documentarian of Blackfish. Turns out, such worries are for naught. DeBose holds her own as part of an iron-strong ensemble that includes Chris Messina (2023’s The Boogeyman), John Gallahger Jr. (The Belko Experiment) and Hollywood’s most reliable Dane, Pilou Asbæk (Overlord). While Cowperthwaite lets each shine, she places particular attention where she should: creating tension and stress. Now, we’re not exactly dealing with Gravity here, but the movie is better than its release in the wasteland of January would suggest.

Of course I.S.S. employs effects, but it’s not driven by effects. No alien aboard, either, although the fear of “the other” pervades every corridor as each cosmonaut and astronaut remains uncertain who, if anyone, is an ally. Made all the more problematic by a setting that’s claustrophobic, despite the vastness of space, the movie is an interesting game of trust involving man, machine and mutually assured destruction. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

The Phantom of Hollywood (1974)

For the movies, Gaston Leroux’s opera-dwelling phantom has been a literary gift that keeps on giving. Witness Brian De Palma’s cult classic Phantom of the Paradise, the ’80s straight-to-VHS slasher Phantom of the Mall and the somewhat obscure The Phantom of Hollywood, a 1974 CBS movie of the week.

Without me telling you, you can guess its basic story points: The fictional Worldwide Studios has plans to demolish its backlot, which doesn’t sit well with the masked, mace-wielding figure who lives among its sets and subterranean tunnels. Once he gets wind of it, he leaves notes and makes calls to studio execs (Rat Packer Peter Lawford among them) that amount to outright threats of death: “To destroy the backlot is to destroy yourself!”

They ignore him; fatal “accidents” happen; the Phantom kidnaps a lovely woman (Skye Aubrey, The Carey Treatment); and things don’t go as smoothly as he planned.

Given our overexposure to Leroux’s plot, it’s not at all taxing to guess the identity of the Phantom. This is no detraction, however; its very familiarity is comforting and welcome. The pleasures of this Phantom, as with every twist-’em-up version, is seeing how the filmmakers will modernize each element of the original Opera. So what if this one is a little insidery and self-congratulatory? It does not fail to entertain, and does so efficiently, in fewer than 75 minutes.

It’s an added treat for old-school film buffs, as viewers not only see clips from celebrated movies like The Wizard of Oz, but also get good glimpses of the MGM backlot, which ironically, was being destroyed at the time. That might be the only reason this nifty telefilm exists. Regardless, I’m glad it does. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.