This disc was my introduction to the “Monster High” franchise, which is a line of toys and other merchandise for goth-girls-in-training (and has nothing to do with the 1989 B-movie of the same name). The students at Monster High are supposed to be the offspring of more famous monsters- such as Count Dracula’s daughter named Draculara, the daughter of Frankenstein’s Monster named Frankie Stein, and Clawd Wolf, son of the Wolfman. The girl characters are referred to as “ghouls”.

Most of the characters, with a few exceptions, are given close to human-like appearances. The design of their world is rather interesting, with the Monster High school building resembling a castle and most objects are coffin-shaped, including the school lockers, speakers and cell phones.

While this disc is advertised as “2 movies for the first time on DVD,” these are really ‘specials’ originally shown on Nickelodeon (appearing to be done occasionally rather than as a regular series), running 46 minutes each without commercials (there are several points where the shows cut to black, where the commercial breaks would have been.) Both are CG animated, less elaborately than most CG-animated feature films but they don’t appear ‘cheap’ either.

In “Friday Night Frights”, Monster High’s roller-skating team loses the “Skultimate Roller Maze” to the competing Granite City Gargoyles (all of which are stone gargoyle characters), which means the Gargoyles also get to take possession of Monster High’s school crest. Without the crest, the school building starts to gradually fall apart (causing one character to remark “It’s like a morgue in here, and not in a good way.”) Frankie starts to think about how they can win the crest back. Many of the star players were injured during the last game and won’t be able to play again for a while (including Clawd Wolf who is placed in one of those large “pet cone” collars so that he won’t lick his wounds), so Frankie convinces her “ghoul”-friends to sharpen up their skills and take the injured players’ places. The remaining male players resent having “a bunch of ghouls” on their team, saying that traditionally ghouls have been excluded from the sport for many centuries, so they quit in protest, forcing Frankie and friends to recruit more “ghouls” to take their place. Most of the school becomes skeptical that they can win the crest back, in an episode whose message is obviously to not discriminate based on gender and to question traditions of the past.

Draculara’s 1600th birthday celebration, which also falls on Valentines’ Day, is the basis for “Why do Ghouls Fall in Love” This episode takes a few liberties with the legend behind the holiday, with “Valentine” being the name of a suave young vampire who has literally captured the hearts of some young “ghouls” over the past 400 years. He had fallen in love with Draculara long ago and declared her birthday as Valentines’ Day, but lost touch with her after her family had to move suddenly. Now he’s found her and transferred to Monster High to try and steal her heart again, but since she’s in love with Clawd Wolf now who will prevail The message of this episode is to consider what true love really is- Valentine tries to win Draculara with expensive gifts, but the seemingly everyday objects Clawd presents her with have more meaning behind them.

Picture:

Both shows are in 16×9 widescreen. Sadly, the DVD format is really starting to show its age here, as the picture is very soft compared to Blu-Ray and even over the air HD TV broadcasts. You can tell that details in the animation have just been blurred by the DVD’s limited resolution. This would have looked so much better on Blu-Ray.

Sound:

Audio is in 5.1 Dolby Digital, and sounds adequate although the surrounds are used very sparingly. (“Why Do Ghouls Fall in Love” seems to use them more consistently for ambient sounds than “Friday Night Frights” where I only noticed two directional effects from them.) Dubs in Spanish and French 5.1 are included, along with subtitles in those languages and English SDH-style subs.

Extras:

No real extras are included, but the disc opens with a promo for the Monster High “Skultimate Roller Maze” game for the Nintendo Wii and DS systems, and a trailer for the Monster High “Ghouls Rule” DVD.

Final Thoughts:

Although I was mostly unfamiliar with “Monster High” until viewing this disc, I found it entertaining enough and would check out any further productions with its characters- I’d also like to find out more about the people behind “Monster High” and what inspired its creation- they seem to have found the right balance where the concept is a bit unconventional yet stays within appropriate bounds for childrens’ fare. The underlying message of accepting everyone the way they are certainly can’t be argued with. If Saturday morning TV were still what it used to be, I could see “Monster High” fitting in quite well there- as it is I’ve imagined what a 1970s cel-drawn version might have looked like. A live-action “Monster High” movie is said to be in development, so it should be interesting to see how that turns out.

Warren Miller has enjoyed a lengthy career putting out movies that highlight skiing, and has been filming skiing (and snowboarding, as we see in some segments here) for over fifty years. The documentary filmmaker doesn’t have the same level of involvement with his latest films, but despite being handled by others (although still released under the Warren Miller Productions banner), the films may not resemble Miller’s great works, but still do a reasonably good job documenting the skills of some of the brightest stars on the slopes today.

“…Like There’s No Tomorrow” starts in promising fashion after a goofy start, with a terrific ski sequence whose highlights are a number of point-of-view sequences that are nothing short of thrilling. Then, as with other films from the production company, the picture travels around the world, looking at various stories of “adventure sports” (well, largely of the downhill variety) in spots around the globe.

The movie then follows an Alaskan guide into India as she faces the challenges of spectacular mountainsides. The remarkable scenery extends into the film’s jaw-dropping New Zealand sequences, as well as an amazing section on the Tuckerman Ravine in New Hampshire. The New Hampshire area offers huge slopes on the side of Mount Washington, where skiers show off their mountaineering skills as they try to scramble up just to take off.

The scenes in Chile offer absolutely beautiful visuals and some tremendous displays of skiing, but the attempts at comedy are a little flat and goofy, ending up feeling like filler. Fans of the sport are going to be delighted by much of this film, but I think even hardcore fans may agree the 98-minute film could be about 10-15 minutes tighter.

Technically, the film is a delight, with first-rate cinematography that brings viewers right into the middle of the various wintery action. The soundtrack is also an improvement over some of the recent films in the series, with a wide-ranging mix of tunes that ranges from rock to rap to more folky tunes. Pro Johnny Mosley provides narration for the picture and does a fine job – some of the action moments could have spoke for themselves without narration, but overall Mosley’s work is positive.

“…Like There’s No Tomorrow” is presented by Shout Factory 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen. The results aren’t without some mild issues, but much of the footage looked very nice. Sharpness and detail appeared pleasing, with only a few scenes that looked a touch softer. Aside from some minor artifacting in a few scenes, the presentation mostly looked as crisp as fresh snow and impressively smooth and clean. Colors looked bright and vibrant throughout.

The surrounds kick in for the music, but otherwise, the “documentary-style” sound mix results in a largely dialogue-driven/front-heavy presentation. Audio quality was satisfactory; while dialogue remained crisp and clear, the music did seem light on the low-end, which made listening a little fatiguing.

In terms of extras, there’s… not much. We get a few promos and a brief bit of random performance footage. Why is this called the “Deluxe Collector’s Edition”, again?

Final Thoughts: “…Like There’s No Tomorrow” could have been tighter by about 10-15 minutes, but is otherwise another entertaining Warren Miller effort, with superb footage and solid soundtack. The DVD offers very nice video and fine audio quality, but next-to-nothing in the way of extras. Recommended.

The Movie:

Twisted Romance, a 2008 indie drama from Argentinian writer-director José Campusano, deserves some kudos for going into the kind of uncomfortable-to-watch territory that many films of its ilk won’t touch.

Seemingly made on a budget of three (maybe four, max) pesos, this modest production follows an earnest young man who engages in a flirtation with a “dangerous” older man; their sexual dalliance progresses with lightning speed into a casual cohabitation, but the older man’s abusiveness ultimately ends in tragedy. It’s an idea that deserves an “A” for effort, but sloppy mechanics, inexplicable character motivations, and abrupt shifts in tone renders it a solid “F” in execution.

Not that they didn’t try, however – young actor Nehuén Zapata has a measure of winning charisma in the lead role of Roberto, a gay youth who lives in one of the shabbier corners of Buenos Aires with a pair of female prostitutes. His roomies, women of two different generations (in a roundabout way, it’s eventually revealed that they’re Roberto’s mother and sister), are often busy entertaining clients at their home, so Roberto is usually found wandering the area in search of work and/or cheap thrills. It’s at the local train depot that he comes across Raúl (Oscar Genova), a shaggy, slovenly fellow who brazenly invites Roberto back to his place for some rough but apparently satisfying sex.

Although the character of Raúl comes across as maddeningly enigmatic, selfish, rude and physically unattractive throughout Twisted Romance, there’s something about him that keeps Roberto coming back for more. In fact, the film seems to dig itself into an ever-deepening implausibility hole as it unfolds, with Roberto quickly moving in to Raúl’s sparsely decorated home while bragging about his new boyfriend to mom and sis (both of whom, inexplicably, think he’s quite the catch). While the underacheiving Raúl scrapes out a living by making crude firearms and selling them on the black market, Roberto seems perfectly happy being the man’s subservient houseboy/concubine – until he has a dalliance with a Spanish guy, César (Javier de la Vega), whom he met on a sleazy internet hookup site. After Roberto and César (who appears infinitely better matched to the young man) have a hot tumble in a motel, they agree to meet on a regular basis. When César finds out where Roberto lives and starts showing up unannounced, however, Raúl catches on to the two-timing and the inevitable hot-blooded confrontation blows up in all their faces.

Granted, there is the germ of a good idea in Twisted Romance, but the film is so clumsily directed and episodic that it’s hard to take any of it seriously. Most of it is done in a muted, casual manner that shares a few similarities with the only other Argentinian gay film I’ve seen, 2009’s Plan B. On the plus side, one does gets a adequate sense of the desperation present in every corner of this neighborhood – Roberto seems to be more in love with the idea of having a stable relationship with a semi-settled older guy, clinging to it as an escape from his humdrum existence. He’s not self-aware enough to notice how wrong his union with Raúl is, however, until it’s too late. Shot digitally with off-the-shelf equipment, the film takes on a clumsily performed, weirdly emotionless tone up until the torrid, violent climax, which plays out like the scene from a bad telenovela. I’m as willing as anyone to give independently produced gay films some slack. Like Roberto’s inexplicible pull towards a man who is utterly wrong for him in every department, however, the advice I’d dispense to all potential viewers of this grimy little flick would be to run like hell in the other direction.

The DVD:

Video:

Breaking Glass Pictures’ DVD version of Twisted Romance presents the film’s 1.85:1 picture in letterboxed full-frame format, in an adequate transfer. The handheld digital photography and available lighting used throughout Twisted Romance is nothing to write home about, visually, but the image is agreeable throughout with decent light levels and a clean picture.

Audio:

The film’s original Spanish language soundtrack is the only audio option, an unexceptionally mixed track that relied on available ambient sound with little post-production sweetening (only an unobtrusive guitar on the soundtrack intrudes every once in a while). A typo-riddled optional English subtitle track is provided on the disc as well.

Extras:

Nearly seven minutes of bonus scenes, which appear to be alternate takes of scenes used in the film, comprise the main extra on this lean disc. A trailer and previews for other Breaking Glass releases (like the far superior House of Boys) round out the bonus content.

Final Thoughts:

An Argentinian drama about an abusive same-sex relationship, what’s not to love Writer-director José Campusano may have had the best intentions in mind for this searing portrait of two men at differing stages in their lives, but Twisted Romance‘s end product winds up being too shoddy and clumsily played to be taken seriously. This film is 105 minutes of pure “what do they see in each other, anyhow” futility. Skip It.

Matt Hinrichs is a designer, artist and sometime writer who lives in sunny (and usually too hot) Phoenix, Arizona. Among his loves are oranges, going barefoot and blonde 1930s movie comedienne Joyce Compton. Since 2000, he has been scribbling away at Pop Culture weblog Scrubbles.net. One can also follow him on Twitter @4colorcowboy.

The TV Special:

The lavish live TV mounting of Gilbert and Sullivan’s operetta The Yeomen of the Guard stands as a good example of what the so-called “Golden Age of Television” was all about. This April 10, 1957 presentation of Hallmark Hall of Fame has a terrific cast, fluid direction and all the earmarks of a classy production. Audiences of the day were probably more inclined to tune in to wrestling or Father Knows Best, but I’d like to imagine that those who did choose to watch found themselves thoroughly enjoyed by this candy-colored treat. The DVD editon from Video Artists International (VAI) uses a black and white kinescope of the program, which mutes some of the visual splendor but none of the frothy music score or delightful performances.

Set in Shakespearean England, The Yeomen of the Guard‘s story mainly concerns Colonel Fairfax (Bill Hayes), a debonair soldier who has been sentenced to death on a sorcery charge. Fairfax is determined to not let his accuser cousin inherit his wealth, so he conspires with Sergeant Meryll (Norman Atkins) to marry a woman whom he’s never met before – Elsie (Barbara Cook), a fetching traveling singer. The move comes as a surprise for Elsie’s companion, a wise and sardonic jester named Jack Point (Alfred Drake). It’s also disappointing to Meryll’s daughter, Phoebe (Celeste Holm), who was pining away for Fairfax. By the end of Act I, Sergeant Meryll has arranged to smuggle Fairfax out of prison. With the now clean-shaven Fairfax being passed off as a Meryll family relative, the entire community is on the hunt for an escaped fugitive who’s right under their noses. Meanwhile, Jack makes a deal with rotund guard Wilfred (Henry Calvin) to lie about Fairfax’s whereabouts in exchanged for getting an education in the jestering tricks of the trade (their duet on “The Tale Of Cock And Bull” is one of the more wordy, quintessentially G&S moments here). Wilfred is also in love with Phoebe, who is broken up over Fairfax, who finds that the charming Elsie might make for a suitable wife. Somehow all this leads up to a triple wedding, although the operetta closes on the dejected Jack literally left in the dark – an unusually somber ending for Gilbert and Sullivan.

This production of The Yeomen of the Guard condenses Gilbert and Sullivan’s libretto into a tidy 79 minutes, with choruses and lines of dialogue cut or abridged to fit the broadcast running time. Considering that it was all done live, it’s quite an impressive feat. The performance was filmed with only a few cameras on a multi-level set, with fluid, subtle transitions between scenes and a cast that seemed well-rehearsed (best of all, they actually appear to be having fun). Director George Shaefer, who also helmed about a million made-for-TV movies in the ’50s, ’60s, ’70s and ’80s, did an excellent job in keeping things lively and entertaining. The tricky, complex material and the live TV aspect open up the potential for things to go wrong, although the only gaffe I noticed came when Celeste Holm had to do some extra business to keep a prop staff from falling over. Although I was initially under the impression that this telecast was adapted from a Broadway show, it is in fact a unique, one-time performances made especially for this telecast – which makes it all the more laudable.

Another unique aspect to this production lies in the ace casting. Celeste Holm might be better known for dramatic roles in films like All About Eve, but this performance is ample evidence of her singing abilities (remember, she originated the role of Ado Annie in Oklahoma a few years earlier). Her enthusiasm is nicely matched by her one-time Oklahoma co-star, stage pro Alfred Drake. Unlike Holm, Drake didn’t do much film work – his likability and naturalness as Jack demonstrates his ease with this challenging material. The Yeomen of the Guard also has some great stuff from the comedic Henry Calvin (best known for his role in Disney’s Zorro series) and Broadway legend Barbara Cook, seen here when she was just starting her extraordinary career.

The DVDs:

Video:

VAI’s DVD edition of The Yeomen of the Guard was mastered from a kinescope stored at UCLA’s Film & Television Archive. The 4:3 black and white image is blurry and subject to the usual waves and lack of contrast seen on kinescopes, but it’s an adequate presentation with decent mastering.

Audio:

The telecast’s original mono soundtrack gets a little shrill at times, but overall it’s a surprisingly robust, good sounding mix. No subtitles are provided.

Extras:

Since The Yeoman of the Guard was a Hallmark Hall of Fame presentation, VCI has included the telecast’s original commercials on the disc as a bonus “for fans of vintage television”. In three segments totalling nine minutes, the ads shill Hallmark’s product line for the Easter 1957 season, including secular and religious greeting cards and wrapping paper festooned with flowers and bunnies. A 10-minute More from VAI featurette showing highlights from the company’s other offerings round out the extras.

Final Thoughts:

1957’s The Yeomen of the Guard was a smoothly executed Gilbert & Sullivan musical extravaganza captured on live television. It must have been a gas seeing this in color as it was originally broadcast, but the black and white kinescope preserved on VCI’s DVD edition is still a good opportunity to catch stage performers (like the talented Afred Drake) whose work isn’t normally available. Recommended.

Matt Hinrichs is a designer, artist and sometime writer who lives in sunny (and usually too hot) Phoenix, Arizona. Among his loves are oranges, going barefoot and blonde 1930s movie comedienne Joyce Compton. Since 2000, he has been scribbling away at Pop Culture weblog Scrubbles.net. One can also follow him on Twitter @scrubbles.

The Movie:

I first remember seeing Harland Williams in the (I think) underrated comedy ensemble film Down Periscope, but he has also gotten a few lines to chew on in Farrelly Brothers movies like Dumb And Dumber. I was remotely aware of his knack for impersonations and his stand-up comedy, and when I heard he had a new special that was available to view, I figured I would roll the dice and take a chance on it.

The special, titled A Force Of Nature, is a change of pace from the normal stand-up comedy specials filmed in either a small comedy club or a slightly larger, more production-friendly theatre for the comic to show his wares. Williams decides to take the production out to the Mojave Desert, performing on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere as perhaps some attempt at comedy deconstruction. He explains his motivations for doing this early on, by explaining to the camera that he feels that the traditional comedy special’s cuts to an audience member(s) laughing or applauding in agreement to a comic’s joke feels like a prompting for the viewer to do the same. And to be honest, that intent is certainly something I agree with in principle.

In execution however, Williams tends to oversell the fact that you SHOULD be laughing, and this ‘overcooking’ of sorts winds up making a break in between his comic rants one or two beats longer than it should be. During said rants, Williams touches on many things that other comic folks have railed on in the past like technology, romance, love, hate and ultimately nature, the latter of course fitting considering the backdrop. I found some of the jokes funny, other jokes not so much, and others sounded familiar, in that they may have been said by other comics. In the case of the latter, I am pretty sure one was said before by George Carlin (the one about trying to throw away a garbage can being the one that stuck out for me). This is not to imply that Williams stole material, primarily because I do not think he did. Just in between the laughs and the pauses, that’s the way it hit me, that’s all. In between the jokes, Williams becomes aggressive with bird in the area and ultra light flyers that are interrupting the show. They are, in effect, serving as hecklers, for a show that seems to be not about the usual comedy club/stand-up mechanisms, but to each his own I suppose.

Do not get me wrong, I think that A Force Of Nature was a bold experiment by Harland Williams, and I found myself laughing at the jokes (his use of cinnamon to take advantage of desert wins while making a joke was funny, even as he kept coming back to it) more than I did grimacing. But the emphasis on not doing a comedy special here may have made this comedy special worse than your usual comedy special. Better to deconstruct something and go all the way with it, rather than doing callbacks (or things that would be reminiscent of it) and distract from an otherwise decent performance.

The Disc:
Video:

A Force Of Nature is presented in 1.78:1 and enhanced for 16×9 televisions, and the result is about what one would expect. The exteriors look good and the mix of real elements and computer-generated ones look solid as can be. The image is devoid of edge enhancement or haloing, the several colors and flesh tones on Williams are reproduced accurately and without concern. It was nice to watch a standup special that was shot outdoors, that’s for sure.

Audio:

Two-channel Dolby stereo here, which was also about what I expected it to be. Dialogue sounds clear and consistent and with the introduction of crows and fake drones into the listening experience, one would presumably expect some activity in the secondary channels, but there is none here. The activity is all in front of the viewer and sounds as clear as can be, which was basically the objective to achieve for this disc.

Extras:

I did not anticipate seeing an extra with this disc, but Williams provides an interview about the idea for the special. At two minutes, he discusses his motivations and why he liked doing this. It is quick and forgettable.

Final Thoughts:

A Force Of Nature gives Harland Williams’ energy a chance to shine in this stand-up special in the most open of mic nights, on the broadest of stages. Despite some persistent reminders about it to us, by him (and the occasional flat joke), it actually is a good set considering the relative boldness of the experiment. Technically the disc is fairly workmanlike and is virtually barren from an extras perspective. I would seek it out, but only on Comedy Central (or a related yuck-yuck channel) first before making a rental decision.