Yvette Mimieux

The Black Hole (1979)

The Black Hole (1979)

(Second Viewing, On Cable TV, September 2019) I distinctly remember seeing trailers for The Black Hole on TV—it’s hard to forget the spectacular “meteorite heading for the heroes” shot that capped it off. Viewing the film as an adult is something else—It’s a film with a strong split personality, both aimed at kids with cute robots and terrible logic, but also a dark and nightmarish Science Fiction drama that almost literally ends in hell. (“Event Horizon for kids” strikes far too close to the truth to be a joke description.) As a result, The Black Hole can feel like a schizophrenic experience: a special effects showcase (they aged better than you’d expect), a summer blockbuster clearly taking aim at Star Wars’s success, a horror-lite story with easily guessable “twists,” and a good old-fashioned space adventure. In the middle of so much stuff, the cast doesn’t get enough attention, what with names such as Maximillian Schell, Robert Forster, Anthony Perkins, Yvette Mimieux and Ernest Borgnine—what kind of movie was this? There is stuff in there that is so clearly of the 1970s that watching them today feels alien—I mean: a robot shooting gallery, ESP with robots, a quote-spewing robot? If you haven’t seen The Black Hole in a while, have another look at it. If you haven’t seen it yet, do it now, and strap yourself in for a wild mixture of elements that you wouldn’t necessarily put in the same movie.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1962)

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1962)

(On Cable TV, August 2019) Sometimes, the best-intentioned projects mutate into a monstrous parody of themselves, and we know this about the 1962 version of The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse because there is another version to compare it to: The 1920s original version of The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. In this case, we can see the worthwhile intention in updating a WW1 story about a family torn by war to a post-WW2 setting. Director Vincente Minnelli, already familiar with the logistical demands of musical movies, should have been an ideal taskmaster for a sweeping multi-year epic involving a large family over two continents. And yet, watching the remake of The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, the entire thing falls flat. As satisfying as it can be to see Nazis getting what they deserve, whether it’s a slap or a bullet, there’s not a whole lot to the film. Much of it seems to be discussions rather than actions, weighed down by interminable dialogues. Sure, it’s great to have Glenn Ford here, except that neither the role nor the style of the film does him many favours. The sets are fantastic, mind you—but there’s a strange detachment to the entire film, as if it was consciously holding back from getting into the thick of the action. At least Yvette Mimieux is there to add some interest: her character is the best that the film has to offer. The rest is ponderous, slow, far too well-mannered even for an expensive early-1960s colour production. Historically, The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse is often remembered for having been one of the films (along with a colour remake of Cimarron which was actually decent enough) that hastened MGM’s decline into the 1960s. That’s a far heavier burden that this disappointing film should bear, but you can see in it the Hollywood studio malaise that was starting to exasperate moviegoers in the 1960s and would later lead to the rejuvenated New Hollywood.

The Time Machine (1960)

The Time Machine (1960)

(On DVD, December 2017) The bad news is that The Time Machine isn’t particularly faithful to the H.G. Wells novel, but the good news are that the film is at its most fascinating when it does diverge significantly from the source material. While the film suffers a partial lobotomy in not really taking an interest in Wells’ social-class parable about the Eloi and Morlocks (instead presenting the Morlocks as straight-cut monsters) and isn’t geared toward the melancholic far-future envoi of Wells’ narrative, it does make up for these deficiencies by strong period content. Diverging from the novel in order to update our Victorian-era protagonist on the evolution of the twenty-first century up to the film’s release, The Time Machine touches upon both World Wars and a nuclear holocaust, inserting them where the original novel could only imagine. The film being from 1960, this means that we get twice-filtered atmospheric content, as we look at the late 1950s look at Victorian England look at the far future. Whew. It may be scientifically indefensible (I rather liked the way our protagonist ends up in 1966 right on time for a nuclear war … and then outruns a lava flow) but it is interesting in its own way. Director George Pal concocts an entertaining blend of SF concepts, then-ground-breaking special effects and intriguing set design. Rod Taylor makes for a likable square-jawed hero, while Yvette Mimieux is fetching enough as promoted-to-love-interest Weena. Special-effect evolution aside, this 1960 version is significantly better than the dull 2002 remake.