Until Blade righted the ship in 1998, a curse hovered over attempts at live-action film and TV adaptations of Marvel Comics. Case in point: Generation X, less-than-lukewarm Fox pilot movie of the teenage X-Men spin-off comic book, then just 2 years old. Although full of special effects and ably directed by the underrated Jack Sholder (The Hidden), Generation X tumbles laughably in its painfully transparent desire to connect with a hip, youthful audience.

Six teen mutants gather at Professor Xavier’s gifted school to learn how to rein in their powers, using them only for good. Looking like an emaciated version of MTV’s Puck, Refrax (Randall Slavin, Monster High) shoots lasers from his eyes, while Jubilee (Heather McComb, F.A.R.T. the Movie) shoots fireballs from her hands. Buff (Suzanne Davis, Fear Runs Silent) is blessed with the upper body of Fabio, while the others … hell, I don’t recall.

Under the tutelage of silver-wigged vixen Emma Frost (The Apple dancer Finola Hughes, who boosts her performance via push-up bras, which made flames shoot out my eyes), the high-school superheroes band together to battle the evil, mad scientist Tresh (Matt Frewer, Lawnmower Man 2: Jobe’s War).

Although the kids are extremely unappealing, Frewer is the film’s true liability. Aping Jim Carrey’s Riddler shtick to the unfunny T, Frewer is embarrassing. He gets one good joke out of the hundred he spews over the course of the film, and since it involves the ugliness of the hair of the stretchy-armed Skin (Agustin Rodriguez, Strange Days), it’s a joke the audience had written long before.

Equally banal is scripter Eric Blakeney’s insertion of pop-culture references in hopes of passing the show off as some cutting-edge, in-the-know, hip-and-with-it flick. When Emma and her Irish partner (Prom Night III’s Jeremy Ratchford, whose Banshee possesses a sonic-boom scream) present themselves to security as “Officers Hootie and Blowfish,” the line isn’t merely stupid, but expired upon airdate.

If this pilot is indicative of how the Generation X series was poised to go, good thing they quit while they were ahead. —Rod Lott

As the South Korean blockbuster Alienoid posits, aliens hide their prisoners inside human bodies. Whenever those prisoners escape, in swoop Guard and Thunder to make things right. The sleek Guard is basically Iron Man with all right angles smoothed out, while Thunder resembles an overweight View-Master and can turn into a talking car.

Meanwhile (?), in the late 14th century, people tussle over the Divine Blade, a sword with regenerative properties and the ability to rip open portals in time. Never the twain shall meet? Not a chance! And to no one’s surprise, the melding of very different time periods (and the subgenres of martial arts and superhero sci-fi) makes for fun sequences — not that the film lacks in that department before a single dimension is hopped.

Look, a lot goes on in Alienoid‘s 142 minutes. Bursts of energy shoot from palms. Spiked tentacles whip this way and that. Kitty cats emerge from paper fans. Guard and Thunder have adopted a precocious daughter. There’s even a character named Dog Turd. One could argue writer and director Choi Dong-hoon (The Thieves) has packed in too much “much” for his movie’s own good. (To be transparent, its sequel was shot in tandem.)

Although not based on a comic book, Alienoid is assuredly influenced by Marvel, for good and for ill. It’s big, bright and colorful. Action and humor occupy a common space. Special effects appear no-expense-spared. But when spectacle overwhelms all else, as it does in a punishing 20-minute finale, your patience may be as defeated as the forces of evil. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

I get jealous when people talk about their “COVID project,” even if all they did was stream every episode of Columbo. I didn’t get to pursue a COVID project; I had to work, harder than normal, clocking around 97 hours the week that almost killed me.

All this to say, with Something in the Dirt, the acclaimed filmmaking duo of Aaron Moorhead and Justin Benson (Synchronic) debut their COVID project, one necessitating them to step in front of the camera as well to star. It puts all other COVID projects to shame, so hopefully you didn’t get to do one, either.

Scrappy, down-on-his-luck bartender Levi (Benson) moves into a depressing dump of an apartment in Laurel Canyon. Fellow struggling tenant John (Moorhead), a wedding photographer mending a broken heart, notes Levi’s unit has been mysteriously vacant for a decade.

While moving some of John’s old furniture into Levi’s pad as loaners, the two witness a paranormal event: the levitation of an ungodly ugly ashtray. With both men in need of purpose, this is all they need to fling themselves into a full-fledged investigation — and documentation on video — of Levi’s closet as a potential gateway to an alien dimension.

Like the conspiracy chase of Darren Aronofsky’s Pi as an indie buddy comedy, Dirt follows the neighbors’ descent into a rabbit hole, the design of which may be partly their own. Without spoiling the movie’s pretzel-knotted twists, Moorhead and Benson inject a vial of meta into the mix — one that already includes autumnal equinox claptrap, X-Files paranoia, Big Brother surveillance and cosmic hoo-ha. No theory is so half-baked, it can’t be microwaved later.

Original and unpredictable, Something in the Dirt somehow is able to feel dangerous while also being dryly funny. It also feels improvised, even though you know Moorhead and Benson plan their pictures to a T, pandemic or no pandemic. I may not be 100% bought in to their conclusion, but it’s tough to complain when your mind is blown along the way. —Rod Lott

Get it Nov. 22 on VOD.

To date, the strongest argument against the multiverse concept as entertainment is Intermate, a witless waste of digital space. It posits a virtual dating game, also named Intermate, in which players visit actual “baby universes” and make a random hand gesture that triggers ultra-euphoric mindgasms.

The attractive Desa (Lauren York, Airplane Mode) serves as the game’s spokesperson, but she doesn’t play. Except when she does, joining equally attractive friends (Kidnap’s Malea Rose and Hunt Club’s Maya Stojan) in a round that sends them to Earth. They’re stuck on our strange world when a pink-necked space repairman (Jonathan Goldstein, Body of Influence 2) works to disrupt the game.

Or something like that. Written in part by director Richard Lerner (Revenge of the Cheerleaders), the story makes as much sense as the game’s convoluted rules: zilch. If only the repairman had disrupted his own movie!

Don’t just take my word for it; on the movie’s own website, Goldstein calls the script “really dense” on a “red carpet” interview: “We were all trying to figure it out.” Rose echoes that, admitting, “When you read the script, you’re like, ‘What is going on?’ … You’re thinking to yourself, ‘Oh, no, this is bad.'”

Boy, is it ever. The sci-fi tale plays like a comedy, but Lerner’s Q&A on the aforementioned site implies its campy vibe is accidental. That checks out because the movie is bereft of a single laugh, through no fault of the actors. Okay, there’s almost one good joke, however unintended: The ladies go to a rock club named, judging from the letter-sized piece of paper taped outside, Rock Club.

I imagine the real fun is the behind-the-scenes story, as Intermate originally came out as 2019’s slightly longer Flashout. Three years later, it sports a new opening and is “sexier.” I assume the former entails the exposition-packed title card that works against its purpose of adequately orienting viewers. As for the latter, Lerner depicts each male’s climax with quick cuts of bikini- and undie-clad torsos put through a tie-dyed filter, while a closing-credits disclaimer confirms as suspected, “Body and négligée shots in ‘flashouts’ not performed by Cast.”

None of this is sexy. In fact, running counter to the Lerner filmography, the whole thing is nudity-free — exceedingly odd since it resembles every Surrender Cinema release, down to the questionable computer animation. It’s as if whoever funded production found Jesus between shooting and editing, thereby threatening to pull out if the sex weren’t excised. That’s not to suggest any amount of added flesh could keep Intermate from being less interminable. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

Based on a purported true story, The UFO Incident dramatizes the alien abduction of Barney and Betty Hill on Sept. 19, 1961, in New Hampshire — rural New Hampshire, of course.

After their close encounter of the made-for-TV kind, Barney (James Earl Jones, Exorcist II: The Heretic) and Betty (Estelle Parsons, Bonnie and Clyde) have amnesia, but also enough of a memory to not want to discuss it. Easier said than done since Betty experiences nightmares out the wazoo, while Barney sprouts warts on his groin.

Under hypnosis, however, they start to recall specific details of What Went Down on that silver saucer — no anal probe mentioned, but Betty shares taking a pregnancy test by way of a needle through the navel.

For the remainder of the telepic, director Richard A. Colla (Fuzz) cuts between Jones and Parsons’ separate sessions with the doctor (Barnard Hughes, The Lost Boys) and flashbacks to the night in question. While the visitors may look silly by today’s standards, youngsters watching live in ’75 were collectively traumatized. It’s hard to convey how much more powerful and terrifying a quick and partial glimpse could be when “pause” and “rewind” weren’t buttons on the remote control.

What’s most interesting are not these sequences aboard the ship, but the Hills’ recounting of such, thanks to Jones’ and Parsons’ skills as stage-trained actors. Jones in particular is able to go from sweat to full-on snot and tears on cue. Although I’m uncertain whether Betty is supposed to be as “special” as portrayed, there’s no denying Parsons sells her character’s unconditional love for Barney, a barrel of a man.

I’d even argue the movie works best before they undergo hypnosis, when Colla simply lets us into their normal life, including the everyday challenges they face from mankind. That the couple’s biracial aspect goes without comment makes The UFO Incident more progressive than the tube offered at the time, outside of a Norman Lear sitcom. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.