UFO Ep7: The Dalotek Affair

It's FAB FRIDAY people!

A proper analysis of all things wonderful in the world of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson has been long overdue.

Watching that credit sequence again, and the montage of images, it is amusing to see how very much UFO feels like a cross between Thunderbirds and Space:1999. I'm stating the obvious I know. It stands to reason since UFO falls chronologically between the two productions, but the fantastical, colorful elements of UFO combined with live actors definitively walks the line and captures a unique feel of its own. An image of the Skydiver launching from the ocean to the sky recalls the launching of the similarly designed Thunderbird 4 ironically launching from the surface to the sea. The Moonbase is clearly a precursor to bigger and better things to come with Space:1999's Moonbase Alpha. In fact, the camerawork and the modelling on the series, while very good, certainly lacks the precision of detail and ultra professionalism found in the modelling and production perfections of those efforts established on the muted, cinematic Space:1999. Space:1999 was really that good. UFO is good, but Space:1999 benefited from a bigger budgeted production, scale and a darker tone. Still, UFO does skirt the purple wigs for some darker toned moments throughout the series shining a light on those aspects of the single season series that would be mined to greater effect for Space:1999.

This is UFO, Episode 7, The Dalotek Affair. The latest UFO excursion tries its hand at some new ideas or visual techniques. In the opening, there are some freeze frames that cut from color to black and white still images. The entry also opens with a substantive news styled interview with a man, Dr. Robert Stranges, President of the National Investigation Committee on U.F.O.'s, who defines the unidentified object as "any object whose behavior violates every known law of aerodynamics." Stranges also cites real political figures in his speech in Gerald Ford, Robert Kennedy and Douglas McArthur and paraphrases McArthur who warns of a "war between planets." This certainly gives UFO a certain weight, or gravity, elevating well above the accessible children's fare of Thunderbirds.

The episode also approaches The Dalotek Affair in flashback as Colonel Paul Foster and Colonel Alec Freeman recall the event.

As I mentioned, there are a series of still, black and white freeze-frames intended to denote something of importance to the audience that should be remembered. How did I feel about this approach?

On the one hand it does speak to a less sophisticated era in television that clearly intended to notify its audience of information that it could easily discover on its own. These were simpler, safer times and in some ways the concept feels a bit condescending to suggest the audience might not be smart enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together at episode's end.

This place could give Hooters a run. On the other hand, I must admit, by contrast today, I actually enjoyed these moments from a stylistic aesthetic. It works and works rather well without giving anything away. It's a fairly clever touch that offers UFO a little more depth as a series. Still, the information is noted and suddenly the audience is asked to file away the data. It might have been interesting to experience The Dalotek Affair without the visual cue. How would our minds have processed the information without the hints. Of course, we'll never know because we can't give our discovery back. If the cuts were made, information provided in the series would have had us intrigued enough to back up and revisit the opening. It's just an interesting scenario that speaks to the power of editing and film and how information is assembled and revealed to generate a specific emotional response. Knowledge is certainly power and with today's programming the less we know the more curious we seem to be.

Three UFOs are approaching on Moonbase. The single-missile configured Interceptors are launched. I know I've commented before, and this will be my last remark about them, but those Interceptors are simply the goofiest looking ships. I expect a little more from the folks behind Thunderbirds and Space:1999 I'm afraid. The Interceptor quite honestly looks a bit like the poor man's version of Battlestar Galactica's Viper. The legs never fold into the craft and they are equipped with one missile. This is the future? How did we make it this far? It needs a little more firepower along the lines of the Viper or the X-Wing if we expect to survive. Though it is worth noting the craft cockpit is awfully similar to both of those aforementioned classics vehicle designs and, of course, Mike Trim's Interceptor pre-dates those by at least seven years. Still, he's worth the tribute. Trim has designed superior work for Thunderbirds and other Anderson productions as well as the SHADO Mobile and the Skydiver, while not Thunderbird 4, is still impressive. I'm just a little hard on the Interceptor as my first line of defense.

Returning to the story, the UFOs inexplicably exit the Moonbase airspace. Why?

This particular scene was noteworthy starring Ed Bishop as the always no-nonsense Commander Ed Straker. His professional approach to leadership is the antithesis of today's warmer, kinder and gentler leaders. I'm not suggesting Straker doesn't possess those qualities, but when he's all business he's all in and he hasn't exhibited a genuinely soft side to date. This guy is the real deal as leaders go and he lets Foster have it with his assessment. He doesn't sugarcoat. He'd be a tough boss. Kudos to Foster who takes both barrels admirably and respects Straker's position never feeling threatened but answering honestly and respectfully.

With much of the action occurring on Moonbase, Lt. Joan Harrington and Lt. Nina Barry, played delightfully by the beautiful Antonia Ellis and Dolores Mantez, respectively, receive some much deserved air time in The Dalotek Affair. They were important to the babe aesthetic of UFO outside of the gorgeous principals of Wanda Ventham as Colonel Virginia Lake and Gabrielle Drake as Lt. Gay Ellis as Gabrielle Drake [notably absent since Episode 3, Flight Path, but returning in Episode 8, A Question Of Priorities].

Harrington believes they are tracking a meteorite. Foster and Straker communicate noting the object appears to be nearing the moon-based Dalotek installation. Straker urges they be warned and if anyone from the company must return to Moonbase they should implement the "amnesia procedure." UFO never shies away from delicious top secret government code and keep things popping for the ardent conspiracy theorist. It's all very Men In Black.

The Dalotek moon substations is radioed, but personnel are on a surface expedition when bombs strike the surface near the Dalotek location. Dalotek is a corporate-owned installation with private initiatives. Straker is less than thrilled by their presence near Moonbase. Obviously we glean a number of things. First, the moon is travelled to frequently by S.H.A.D.O. and also corporate-sponsored initiatives. Second, the stealth S.H.A.D.O. organization is clearly still keeping up false appearances even on the moon. Thus, if required, the "amnesia procedure" must be applied to retain the covert operation.

Once again illustrating Straker's prickly handling of all manner of people, he is videoconferenced by the president of Dalotek, Blake, whom he assures he did all he could to object to the Dalotek presence on the moon. Straker doesn't play politics well. He tells it like it is and refuses to mince words. It is both an admirable quality as well as a detriment. Though he does assure he will assist Dalotek in the event of an emergency. His no bullshit agenda won't be mistaken for warmth. Straker is clearly at odds or loggerheads with politicians and corporations who interfere with his mission directive - war with the aliens and protecting the personnel of Moonbase as well as Moonbase itself.

Three civilians man the Dalotek station and demonstrate there is indeed an antagonistic relationship between the military and industry missions of the future UFOverse. It makes you wonder does Straker approve of a cozy little thing called the military industrial complex? Each side here appears to generally operate with some degree of disdain or disrespect for the other. The corporate folks, stationed for ten days, have their agenda and Straker has his.

Suddenly, Straker loses his video link to Foster and the image is scrambled. Foster suspects interference by Dalotek and pays a visit to the group who are busy smoking. Yes, there was no shortage of smokers on UFO. Kids were certainly exposed to a significantly different standard culturally with shows like UFO and The Courtship Of Eddie's Father. I know I was exposed [to use a UFO title] to a good degree of second-hand smoke myself. It's one vice I don't miss seeing in abundance. Anyway, watching the classics does take you by surprise today as far as what was normally considered acceptable. Norms have indeed changed on many fronts.

What's not surprising is the latest appearance of a hot female in a science fiction serial. The uber-hot female guest babe for The Dalotek Affair is Jane Carson, played by Tracy Reed [Dr. Strangelove Or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb]. She is very much in keeping with the beautiful women that populated science fiction television in the 1960s and 1970s [sounds like a post]. Star Trek: The Original Series and Battlestar Galactica are to examples whereby there was no shortage of gorgeous women. Good work Gerry! Glen! Gene! Thank you G-men.

Foster takes a Moon Mobile [though Moon Hopper seems more appropriate] over to the cozy little Dalotek station to analyze the frequency settings. Foster discovers there's another landscape worth investigating there in the form of Ms. Carson. The inclusion of Michael Billington and the hot babe of the week certainly gives UFO a very nice James Bond subtext. There's a touch of innuendo as the suggestion is made that Carson is "very experienced," which leaves Foster with the only logical reply, "I can only imagine." Ah, a little harmless flirtation in full moon isolation. There's no question Foster wants to head into full 007 territory with Ms. Carson and get her out of that tin foil space outfit. You can't blame him. Can you picture Roger Moore handling this one? Carson would have been the perfect Kirk conquest for Star Trek: The Original Series too.

Foster establishes a direct land line between Moonbase and the Dalotek station. How convenient. Nothing like keeping it professional. I should think Harrington has a few thoughts on this one.

In space, no one can hear you... make a date unless your colleague is Harrington.

A lunar module arrives and Moonbase loses the module with another "radio blackout." Both men are killed in their attempted landing. This wasn't for the kiddies and there were no A-Team comic book-styled crashes. These men were dead and pictures of their loved ones and family were discovered among the wreckage. This was the 1970 and the UFO version of the Red Shirt would not be coming home.

Foster and two other S.H.A.D.O. agents head to Dalotek to terminate the operation and shut down all circuits. Foster makes a command decision much to the chagrin of Dalotek corporate.

Later, the triad of Dalotek civilians takes to the moon's surface for some last minute efforts. An alien device is discovered half-buried in the lunar dirt. Photos are taken, but the Dalotek people believe it belongs to the military. They are later informed by Foster it does not.

A UFO is incoming and three Interceptors are launched. Communications blackout occurs again between Earth and Moonbase. Foster is certain both installations are in danger.

On Earth, Straker gives Blake the bad news. Straker orders Lt. Keith Ford, who once interviewed Dr. Stranges, to replay the archived session. Straker thinks there's something important in it that must have been missed – a word or a phrase. Straker puts it all together and determines meteorites that have impacted the Moon, Crater 236, may be an issue. That's quite a leap and I'm not exactly sure how Straker arrives or deduces his theory. Straker's train of thought is difficult to follow, but he has singlehandledly deduced the aliens have planted a device concealed within the meteorite impacts. Straker is just that good.

On the Moon, Foster has made yet another command decision to execute a detonation of Crater 236. He warns the nearby Dalotek station to brace for impact decompression. The situation was grave enough that S.H.A.D.O. had to act with no time to spare for evacuation.

The device is destroyed and the Dalotek station decompresses. While the civilians there struggle to survive, all communications are restored. The incoming UFO is also terminated. Three Interceptor chances and the third missile takes it. Like I said, not the most effective or flexible weapon in the arsenal of the future. The Interceptor needs a serious upgrade quickly. If number four was required Moonbase would be toast. I do wonder why the aliens didn't just arrive with a fleet of UFOs and simply wipe out the base.

So much for his girlfriend in Episode 5, Survival. Queue Carly Simon's Nobody Does It Better. Foster has a chance to unwind with Carson for a smoke [of course], a kiss and a little bit of the sexy weird including a psychedelic make-out, and perhaps another smoke to follow. Later, amnesia injections are applied and all is forgotten including their little foray into inner space.

Back on Earth, the episode ends where it began with Foster joining Freeman at a restaurant recounting the Dalotek affair and Foster introducing himself to a now unknowing Carson at the restaurant for what appears to her their first meeting. It looks like Foster should be able to take care of business later all over again. Yes, information is a powerful thing and with a preliminary lay of the land think of the upper hand Foster has over Carson. This secret agent thing does have its advantages.

While The Dalotek Affair may not be entirely successful, it does establish some nice ideas and twists for a vintage era program. UFO suffers mostly from pacing, because the performances are strong, the costumes are superb, colors are vibrant and its appeal to nostalgia is both good and bad. Where Gerry Anderson's The Protectors feels entirely too short and choppy, UFO goes just a bit too long for its own good. A little editing would have worked wonders, but the series has far greater benefits as a result of the time it was allotted.

Unfortunately, today's short attention spans are almost detrimental when it comes to the space-suit padded story plotting and charms of a classic like UFO. Still, for some of us, it remains a pleasure to see a visually comprehensive episode of science fiction without a single computer effect. Now that's an affair to remember. The Dalotek Affair: C+. Writer: Ruric Powell. Director: Alan Perry.

Valentine Pie

I am so all about pie. Banana Cream. Apple. Blueberry. Coconut Cream... Chicken Pot Pie. I love Chicken pot, chicken pot, chicken pot pie!

A belated Valentine to all because sometimes you have to love yourself and pie is always a beautiful thing.

FAB FRIDAY Photo 1: Space:1999 The Eagle

In the absence of anything substantive each FAB FRIDAY, I thought it might be nice henceforth to fill the void of space with something FAB-related from the wonderful world of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson. A delightful image of all things Fanderson is better than no FAB FRIDAY at all. Images might include anything from actors, actresses, episode images, promotional materials, fan art or design work from any number of talented artists out there on the sphere. Thus, without further adieu, I present the official FAB FRIDAY Photo spot to keep the seat warm for future FAB FRIDAY entries. Fear not, episode analysis is still forthcoming.

Blood: The Last Vampire Promo

Promotional art for Blood: The Last Vampire. Sweet, sweet, sweet, can you taste it?

Blood: The Last Vampire

Are you feeling drained by the endless bloodletting that is the Twilight series, Underworld, True Blood? If you enjoy vampires I suspect not. Still, the unrelenting list of vampire projects could leave you in need of a transfusion. I've got another to add to your list and ironically it really won't be the last.

Blood: The Last Vampire [2000] is essentially an anime tease, a short little bloodsucker at 48 minutes, that was essentially expanded for a live action film of the same name in 2009 for 90 minutes.

Following the impressive Jin Roh: The Wolf Brigade [1999], animation studio Production I.G. swooped in with the visually nasty Blood: The Last Vampire.

The animation studio sharpened its teeth with the sharp production quality of this film short almost as a sales tool. The title is fitting too as the blood indeed splatters the screen often in the company’s latest showcase. It was an experiment in cellular and digital animation at the turn of the century further expanding the possibilities within anime.

Self-professed anime fan Andy Wachowski’s [The Matrix, V For Vendetta] offered a colorful expression of appreciation. “It was beautiful - It was as if the art of Francis Bacon had come to life.” It's no surprise, after all The Matrix riffed substantially on Ghost In The Shell [1995] substantially and the brothers would later take on their live action revision of Speed Racer [2008] based on the original animated series Speed Racer/ Mach Go Go Go [1967-1968].

For Blood: The Last Vampire Production I.G. created a haunting film noir quality to this dark, visceral, vampire story. There is great detail in the hand drawn animation despite being dropped into a story lacking details and clearly well under way. The animation and atmosphere would cultivate a cult following winning legions of fans who would clamor for a proper follow-up. They would have to wait five years. Production I.G. would provide fans plenty on the mythology of the original short through the fifty episode series Blood + [2005-2006].

The story of Blood: The Last Vampire takes place on Yokota Air Base in Japan. On edge, the United States military is on the brink of war with Vietnam. A more frightening, immediate threat lurks within the fortified compound – demon-like vampires called Chiroptera! A crackerjack team of covert agents is summoned to dispatch the creatures which have infiltrated the base in human form. Anyone marked by them or who has seen their true form will be killed. Some sequences have a terrifying quality reminiscent of the best in horror cinema. The main character is Saya and we know little about her save for the face “she’s the only remaining original.” Apart from the occasionally cryptic information, character development is sorely lacking. We ascertain that Saya has been alive since, at least, 1892. We know she is bi-lingual moving fluently between English and Japanese. She also possesses an aversion to the holy cross [standard operating procedure in a film with bite], but yet she professes, “I can’t kill humans.” Did I mention her soft, curvaceous lips? To say the least Saya is a bit of an enigma. What motivates her? We don't know. She is an unflinching mystery and she is sent in to exterminate the heathen monsters with her lethal precision and the aid of a razor-sharp sword she carries with her to complete her mission. Not unlike Arucard of Hellsing, Saya is a stonecold marxman, a vicious assassin. As one character exclaims, “don’t ever piss her off again!"

Hypnotic animation aside, it's a little empty and you're sure to be asking questions. It's a hollow shell of a story, which is why it stands as a kind of promotional vehicle for Production I.G.. Why does Saya fight these creatures? Why is she the last of her kind? We want to know more about the pouty, gothic, sex-kitten that is Saya, petite in her traditional Japanese school uniform. She is the key to a greater story to be discovered years later in Blood +.

Still, the animation is precisely why you will love Blood: The Last Vampire. The combination of 3D digital compositing [backgrounds & lighting] and traditional cellular animation [thick, black outlines] is a delicious feast for the ey... er... fangs. Digital and hand drawn animation work nicely in harmony here.

Anime Classics Zettai!, written by Julie Davis and Brian Camp, formerly of Animerica, described Blood: The Last Vampire nicely as "Japan's first fully digital animated feature film. Blood's animation style is a combination of cel-style character drawings and nearly photo-realistic backgrounds. Computer-generated filters are used to create realistic lighting effects on the detailed backgrounds." Blood: The Last Vampire is "a short original video that showcased the impressive computer graphics capability of its studio, Production I.G., Blood came at a watershed time in the anime industry, when digital production was finally beginning to replace hand-painted cel animation on a large scale.” Honestly, digital animation, in and of itself, is rarely enough for me and unfortunately that was the future and the future is now.

On the scoring front, Yoshihiro Ike offers a stirring instrumental mix that genuinely enhances the ominous mood of these wonderful images.

Production I.G.'s concept is a solid one, but the story is never fully realized. The shallow character development is notable in contrast to the studio’s sequel, Ghost In The Shell: Stand Alone Complex [2002-2003] or Ghost In The Shell: 2nd GIG [2004-2005]. Dialogue is minimal with some characters speaking no more than a few lines. There’s even a nameless main character. Flesh and blood characters are absent. While the concept is a good one, it’s more like a film short and promotional material for what Production I. G. had to offer in anime. Blood: The Last Vampire was considered to be one of the first full-length feature films using digital. The studio knew it was part of a much greater plan.

Writer/director Mamoru Oshii [Ghost In The Shell, Ghost In The Shell 2: Innocence, Patlabor, Patlabor 2] also had his hand in planning and developing the story though it’s significantly underdeveloped even by his sometimes ambiguous standards. Oshii is not, without question, a writer in the vein of the traditional linear story arc often deferring to philosophical considerations. He is indeed an artist who prefers to leave interpretation and analysis to the viewing audience, but the information the viewer requires on the screen visually is often much greater. Oshii noted in Newtype USA (April 2003), "To tell the truth, I don't really like how it ended up. I think visually, it's magnificent--all the elements in that area are of a very high standard. But movies aren't just about the visuals; it's a balance of direction and other elements. I thought that this balance was lacking in the completed work" (p.30). Oshii would pen the novel Blood The Last Vampire: Night Of The Beasts [2000]. This was the first and only book penned by Oshii in a trilogy.

Despite the underdeveloped heroine Saya and Blood: The Last Vampire's shortcomings, Production I.G. would revitalize the story and remedy its shortcomings with the complete Blood + saga. There is certainly enough mystery and visual stimulation to leave you blissfully ignorant and blood-thirsty for more. Think of the flawed Blood: The Last Vampire as a big episodic teaser and primer to the highly anticipated sequel. Blood: The Last Vampire doesn't completely suck, blood that is, and may leave you hungering for a full course anime meal. Production I.G. remedies the appetizer with Blood + followed by Blood-C [2011] and another film [2012]. Sink your teeth into that and suck it!

Blood: The Last Vampire: A- [animation]/ C- [story].

Studio Footnote: Production I.G.: Patlabor 2, Ghost In The Shell, Ghost In The Shell 2: Innocence, Ghost In The Shell: Stand Alone Complex, Ghost In The Shell: 2nd GIG, Ghost In The Shell: Solid State Society, Blood: The Last Vampire, Blood +, Blood-C, The End Of Evangelion, FLCL, The Sky Crawlers, and Eden Of The East are studio highlights.

The Beaver Promo

Jodie Foster demonstrates something rare in Hollywood for actor Mel Gibson – loyalty.

The Beaver

The Beaver had to be a creative risk! That Beaver – what an actor!

It's something of a small miracle that actress/ director Jodie Foster's The Beaver [2011] found an audience at all. I mean using a publicly persecuted Mel Gibson, his own worst enemy, as a man with mental illness who talks to a puppet, a beaver discovered in a dumpster no less, proved Foster's Beaver had some real balls. Sorry, I couldn't resist.

Anyway, to say that it is an odd, unexpected film may be an understatement. I mean, gee Wally, this is a long way from the family friendly fare of Leave It To Beaver [1957-1963]. A sitcom it is not. An Animal Planet documentary might come to mind too. One might even expect an inside look at the small mammal on the big screen a la an IMAX theatre production in surround sound. Truth be told there actually was such a documentary film, Beavers, but the date of release escapes me. Did you know the little mammal is second only to humans in influencing, impacting or transforming the environment around them? Yes, it's a fascinating creature, but enough trivia for now. The Beaver is quite simply the most unusual little film and when I had heard the pitch for it long before its arrival, my immediate reaction was, 'Well, now, how the hell is that going to work? That's just too damn weird.'

[Spoiler] It's ironic then, that in Foster's film the puppet beaver assists in transforming a lifeless man, Walter Black. The beaver, a puppet with surprising character thanks to Gibson, aids in pulling Black back from the brink of suicide to something equating a thinking, feeling, emotional being again. [End of Spoiler].

After watching the equally transformative series Breaking Bad and the devastating life of Walter White [played with stunning believability by Bryan Cranston] and his own familial troubles I'm beginning to wonder about the Walters despite really liking that name and recognizing the exceptions of such sound family foundations like the one for Wally Cleaver. Funny enough, things in this world are clearly not black and white for these men anymore.

In its short 90 minutes, Mel Gibson gets lost inside the mind of Walter Black, a character suffering from mental illness that projects a part of his missing personality upon a beaver hand puppet complete with a foreign accent. The character, not surprisingly, effortlessly taps into the very real and manic troubles of actor Mel Gibson. That's not to suggest Mel suffers from mental illness, but he's certainly exhibited moments of clear mental instability earning him the nick name Mad Mel.

I'm certainly not here to defend Mel Gibson. The man is a fighter and doesn't need my help. Its not for me to judge the man, however inappropriate some of his behavior has been over the last many years, but as an actor Mel Gibson, for me, never hits a false note. He is an absorbing on screen presence that continues to blow me away. From Mad Max [1979] and The Year Of Living Dangerously [1982] on through to his own films Braveheart [1995] and Apocalypto [2006] and everything in between, he always brings something to the screen to make each picture special and something of an event. The Beaver follows hot off the heels of director Martin Campbell's explosive Edge Of Darkness [2010] highlighting another charged Gibson tour in front of the camera.

Oddly, The Beaver seems perfectly timed in the life of Mel Gibson. So many critics quickly discard artists based on their public behavior a la Russell Crowe. You name them, Hollywood stars and directors are hardly the poster children of good behavior. Roman Polanski may be one of the few to remain adored by his peers to this day. For example, I'm not here to advocate for the personal lives of gay musicians, but when you record great music you need to sing some praise. I'll take the latest Erasure CD/ download any day thank you very much. What these artists do with their lives outside of the studio or off camera is of little relevance to my meager existence. It's the instinctive appeal of their art to me.

I eased into The Beaver [there I go again], after months of anticipation for it, with some degree of caution. My initial reaction to the first thirty minutes was disappointment. It felt strange. It felt unusual. It was like nothing I've seen on film of late. But something began to settle in about Gibson's performance as he became one with that hand puppet for The Beaver. It gave new meaning to "talk to the hand." Let's face it, Mel Gibson is all about risks and that part is not surprising, but he never phones in the work. He grabs the psychology of the character and makes it work. What began as odd and just a little startling began to feel–normal. Walter began to come to life through the beaver. Slowly, you began to sense and feel for a man with real problems, pain and the family that suffered through his depression with him. The Beaver isn't perfect and may not have developed the subject of Walter's illness far enough or taken the character as deep as it could have, but it does generate enough of an understanding that we can identify with Walter and those around him. Certainly many cannot identify with Gibson, but if you've experienced personal pain of your own you may find The Beaver affecting and even life-affirming to a degree. For a film tackling some clearly weighty subject matter Foster directs with a relatively steady hand weaving Walter in and out of the lives that are affected by him and his alter ego, the beaver.

Clearly many had the same reaction, but it barely earned a tomato. Many cited the acting and direction. Some called it the best of Gibson's career. One called it "not a good movie, but a brave one." Other comments regarding the performance: "nakedly honest portrayal," "a daft premise and a damaged movie star," "a talking rodent and a fallen star," or an "on-screen train wreck," but generally opinions were split somewhere between brilliant and inauthentic.

Others called it "balanced," "heartbreakingly good," "risky," "amusing," "melancholy," "measured," weirdly funny," "compassionate," "heartfelt," "a strong psychological study," "moving and always disturbing." You get the idea.

People were entirely torn. Where many were sold on Foster's handling of the subject matter others found it "unconvincing," "manufactured," Jules Brenner declared "put the puppet back into the dumpster." Some of the criticisms seemed entirely personal, a reflection of a given writer's disdain toward the actor and less about the film's merits. They would allow their personal prejudices to influence their assessments.

This clearly isn't sci-fi, but I wanted to offer some brief reflections on the film. If you've visited Musings Of A Sci-Fi Fanatic you may be aware of my affinity for Gibson as an actor. I am still humbled by the man's work, personal distractions aside. He is a truly mesmerizing, immersive performer and his work as Walter Black grows stronger with you upon reflection. You need to see it for yourself, more than the bulk of films the suggestion is made for.

For a film with its relatively dark subject, The Beaver ends on a fairly hopeful note all events considered. Walter Black emerges with a modicum of hope and a good degree of forgiveness and acceptance by those around him. You can't help but hope for the same kind of redemption for Mel Gibson, the actor, and perhaps for our own shortcomings in this brief life. We may feel alone sometimes, but we don't have to be. Maybe that was the point of this film for Gibson personally. He embodies Walter and inhabits his world. Through Walter Gibson capably taps into a reservoir of some real pain. I can't help but hope things turn out well for Gibson too. Like the beaver, we are all social animals after all. Did you know they live in colonies? The Beaver: B [for Beaver]

Frankie Goes To Hollywood: Welcome To The Pleasuredome

"Shooting stars never stop, even when they reach the top!" -Welcome To The Pleasuredome, Frankie Goes To Hollywood-

Once upon a time in a space far, far away, because boy things got really weird and wild, there lived a makeshift band dubbed Frankie Goes To Hollywood [Frankie]. As bands go, this one was almost science fiction.

Unleashed on an unsuspecting world was a recording so epic, so massive, so seismic – a publicity tsunami washed ashore in the United States and the existence of Frankie was undeniable. Despite Frankie's heavy British flamboyance the act was still irresistible and, for a time, resistance was futile. Yes, Frankie was all the rage with the arrival of the aptly titled mammoth seller of pure, unadulterated, shameless, unapologetic pop pleasure, Welcome To The Pleasuredome [1984].

Today, I still listen to this indulgent gem of a recording that seemed to tap into the zeitgeist of the mid-80s. To dub Frankie a one-hit wonder on the basis of Relax is entirely unfair as they were clearly a one-album wonder. If there was ever an act that dominated the global music scene in 1984 it had to be Frankie. Nowhere had sadomasochism [S&M] mixed with pleasure pop and fashion more seamlessly than through the quintet of Frankie's Holly Johnson [vocals], Paul Rutherford [vocals, keyboards, dancing], Peter Gill [drums], Mark O'Toole [bass] and Brian Nash [guitar].

Of course, in many respects, the true mastermind behind the outfit was then producer extraordinaire Trevor Horn. Horn churned out sterling production after production effortlessly for years particularly during the 1980s. Frankie was his greatest studio experiment and the act seemed to capture the look and sound of a decade of excess through excessively good fun in well-executed and cleverly crafted pop. Horn's credentials are worth mentioning too. He was a supreme master of sound and mixing. Horn's trademark is perhaps best known through his personal stamp on The Buggles' Adventures In Modern Recording [1981] especially Video Killed The Radio Star [best remembered as the first MTV music video], ABC's magnificent The Lexicon Of Love [1982], Yes' 90125 [1983] [a recording of pure resurrection by commercial standards for the progressive rock band], The Art Of Noise's Who's Afraid Of (The Art Of Noise) [1984], Pet Shop Boys' Introspective [1988], Simple Minds' Street Fighting Years [1989] and Seal' Seal [1991]. He continues to leave an imprint today, but like any special thing of strange magic that connects to its moment in time Horn's special touch was never more intoxicating than his work throughout 1980s and Welcome To The Pleasuredome said it all. Horn was THE man to tap for production. He was the go-to producer who worked compelling pop structures that ranked on the A-list of producers next to the likes of Ian Stanley, Nile Rodgers, Rupert Hine and Alex Sadkin to name just a few. With Horn's name attached to a project you were immediately intrigued and desperately sought to delight in the wonder of his latest.

With this assessment it would stand to reason that Frankie's disappearance following the ambitious Welcome To The Pleasuredome was largely the result of Horn's departure and a band with little if any talent at all. That's certainly how the critics envisaged things or at least painted them. Horn's influence certainly cannot be understated, because it was Horn who molded that raw talent into shape. Thus British publications immediately savaged Frankie with the arrival of the dismal Liverpool [1986], a grim rock record by comparison. They had good reason to be unkind. Suddenly – gone was all of the fun, the pop hooks, the sheer boundless, unbridled energy of the outfit's magnum opus replaced with a whimpering, raunchy, undisciplined, under produced rock record of disastrous proportions that sorely lacked innovation and technical craft. FRANKIE SAY, LET'S FORGET THAT ONE.

Stepping back two years prior to the stroke of genius that was Welcome To The Pleasuredome, the team of Frankie with producer Trevor Horn, cultivated one of the biggest, cheesiest, but tastiest pop morsels ever to grace the inner ear canal. I remember kids in my high school classes walking around with FRANKIE SAY WAR! HIDE YOURSELF and FRANKIE SAY RELAX! t-shirts. For weeks on end it was Frankie mania the world over. There was even a stint at my school.

So, let's face it, when you're on top of the pleasuredome, jet-setting and kicking the world's ass with an endless stream of Frankie product, you know what's coming next. Frankie wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last to fall hard. No, they weren't The Beatles, but for a period the hysteria connected at that level of intensity for this amalgamation of gay and straight men. Oddly, Frankie hailed from the home of the Fab four's Liverpool too [along with Dr. Who's Elisabeth Sladen]. In some ways, time had indeed changed the complexion of Liverpudlian output.

Johnson and Rutherford brought a flamboyant and racy face to their pop act. In fact, Johnson, when interviewed, was just downright bizarre for the sake of being bizarre. The man rarely made any sense at all. His right hand man, the under appreciated Rutherford, was a mustached, silky, soul-filled crooner. Not since Freddie I Want To Break Free Mercury had a singer sporting a mustache been so popular in pop music. These were gay men that could sing, put on a performance and sport a mustache with the best of them. The wild range of Holly's unconventional, booming voice was the the true face of the band making the cover of many magazines including The Face. Nevertheless, Rutherford added the spice. He was indeed the smooth foil tag to Johnson's fury. Perhaps unfairly the remaining three, Gill, Nash and O'Toole, were often considered puppets for the production machinery that was studio Horn.

The eccentric Holly Johnson. Where did it all go wrong? Frankie is simply one of those great wonders of the music world. Like those "shooting stars" Johnson would sing about on Welcome To The Pleasuredome, Frankie briefly burned strong and bright into the dark night before dismantling forever. Recapturing that chemistry is a rare thing for any act and it was never to be for Frankie. You might recall an effort by VH-1 for Bands Reunited to reassemble Frankie, but even then it was a no go. The obstinate Johnson beat to his own drum, had moved on and refused to play along for a brief performance. While many fans would have enjoyed that spontaneous potentially brilliant explosion that was Frankie and seeing the band lay it down for five minutes on VH-1, it simply wasn't to be. There's no denying that Frankie was ultimately the creation of production. It wouldn't have been the same without Horn and maybe Holly Johnson's refusal to play nice was somehow an affirmation of the band's past glory.

Like so many of the recordings we've looked at here on the 80s Music scene, Welcome To The Pleasuredome is a work of pure genre art and still remains untainted by the hands of time. Evidence of its staying power arrived in the form of the two-disc 25th Anniversary edition of the recording that was issued in the UK in 2010. It's rare to see a concept album of this magnitude today.

Analyzing it today, I'm still blown away by the epic thirteen minute odyssey that is the title track, a personal favorite for my money. The opening seconds is like a stroll through the jungle is a bit like a walk through the local zoo before engaging in a persistent, tight and magnificent groove. As you might imagine, Welcome To The Pleasuredome never plays it safe. There's nothing typical about its weave through funky rhythms complemented by ad-libbed verse in the hands of Rutherford's fabulous foil. It is a powerful pop tribute to the long and winding epics of the progressive rock era, yet positively bold and ambitious in its own pop construction. It's positively major. It remains a stunner.

Relax, arguably one of the biggest pop songs of the 1980s, even if it only barely scratched the top ten in America. Relax is an over-the-top salute to sex. It bursts, it spews and it absolutely explodes with a kind orgasmic energy. One instantly recalls Rutherford and Johnson parading through the laser beam light show in the music video. That, of course, replaced the Brian DePalma [Body Double] production that replaced the banned S&M parlor number complete with leather bondage and drag queens, a clip befitting the track. Still, time and distance has been kind to these songs. I defy anyone to scoff at these selections as anything less than some of the most brilliantly crafted pop numbers ever made. This is bad ass pop music, a culmination of talent and studio experimentation that makes Britney Spears sound positively robotic.

Two Tribes tapped into the zeitgeist of a globe dominated by American/ Soviet Cold War politics. Ronald Reagan pressed the Soviet Union to the economic brink inevitably bringing about its eventual dissolution in 1991. That standoff is dramatically captured through a video brawl between Reagan and then Soviet leader Konstantin Chernenko. Chernenko would die in 1985. It represented the ongoing political struggle between two nations and two ideologies with Holly Johnson as the circus ringmaster. It also symbolized the stranglehold those political winds had on nations across the globe. The geopolitical front changed dramatically thereafter.

The remainder of the album is topped with the gorgeous ballad The Power Of Love, which was accompanied by the controversial nativity-themed religious video. The track further emphasized the band's complete immersion into taboo subjects of politics and religion, heaven and hell, sex and love. The act artfully engineers such risks into a complete canvas of originals and reinventions. Remakes of Ferry, War, Born To Run and San Jose are delightful treats exhibiting Frankie's absolute balls to audaciously cover everything from Gerry Marsden to Bruce Springsteen to the Burt Bacharach-penned Dionne Warwick number. Frankie had the audacity to break all the rules.

The remainder of Welcome To The Pleasuredome is notable for a selection of far more impressive and compelling originals from Wish (The Lads Were Here) and Krisco Kisses to the Rutherford-infused sensuality of Black Night White Light and his portion of The Only Star In Heaven.

Yes, Welcome To The Pleasuredome may have been tinkered and toyed with endlessly to achieve perfection, but achieve it Horn and company did. To prove that point, and this is entirely subjective, I have heard every remix under the sun for these classic, original productions and there has yet to be one that has improved upon these originals. I'm sorry, but better mixes don't exist.

The anniversary release delivers a never-before-released lost track. The catchy little oddity is called Watusi Love Juicy. And, of course, all of the weird audio and narration bits are still in place. The only major omission, for me, was Happy Hi from the US edition of the recording, which can be found on the remastered Frankie Say Greatest [2009] compilation. It's essentially a Johnson solo, but it's not to be missed.

If ever there were desert island discs to be mentioned Welcome To The Pleasuredome would assuredly secure a place among them. Frankie's music has since been endlessly recycled, repackaged and regurgitated to the point of embarrassment. All of those efforts include selections from Liverpool. Trust me, most of those products are skip worthy affairs. The only recording worth a shag for the shelf is the remastered Welcome To The Pleasuredome complete in all its snazzy gatefold glory replete with original artwork, photos and other S&M tweaked goodies [nipple pinches, etc.] that the band foisted upon the world back in their hey day. Of course, if you're into that sort of thing then double prizes for you.

I've since read Holly Johnson's book, Bone In My Flute [1994], where he frankly [to use a word] recounts his HIV diagnosis in 1991 and it's a solid page-turner. Johnson, post-Frankie, went on to release what amounts to four solo recordings and Blast [1989] stands alone as just that, the best of the bunch. It's easily the most memorable and fun with loads of catchy melodies and hooks including Americanos, Love Train and Heaven's Here. American Producer Stephen Hague [New Order, Pet Shop Boys, OMD, Erasure] had a hand in the project and on two of the best aforementioned selections.

Paul Rutherford sans the mustache. Now Paul Rutherford always received the least attention of the two gay leads and his vocals, along with his dance moves, were more complementary than full-on lead in his Frankie support role, which I always found a shame. Rutherford's silky, soulful voice was a gift in its own right and had a significant impact on the proceedings on the Frankie debut. Rutherford released a truly odd collection of songs called The Cowboy Years [2010] under the pseudonym Rutherford/ Butt Cowboy. Now if that isn't a truly proud gay man I don't know what is. You have to love and respect the colorful Frankie boy. Unfortunately The Cowboy Years lacks all of the heart, soul and shining brilliance of his one and only true solo outing, Oh World [1989].

Yes, Rutherford's house-inspired groove project, Oh World, is a must own recording. The production, fueled with great melodies, even received production input from Martin Fry and Mark White [ABC], and is criminally underrated. It's the acid house counterpart to ABC's own Up [1989]. Oh World surpasses the best of Johnson's solo work and was reissued in 2011 as a two disc remaster. Seek it out with the Frankie original while you can. You can't go wrong with classics like the title track, Get Real, the string heavy beauty The Gospel Truth, Seduction and a cover of Chic's I Want Your Love. So if you're out there Paul, reconsider a proper Oh World sequel. Fans the world over are waiting for it.

With Frankie Goes To Hollywood at the top of the world, you knew the backlash was inevitable. You may recall a scene from director Alan Parker's The Commitments [1991] that sums up the end pretty well. Jimmy Rabbitte assembles a soul band and the musicians have a few choice words about Frankie Goes To Hollywood.

Hearing things like that was like a knife to the heart for the fans of '80s music. I love The Committments too. I love rock and I love soul and I love pop too. Isn't there room for all?

If so, be assured, the tour de force that is the magnificenty constructed Welcome To The Pleasuredome is perfect for exercise, cruising, dancing, political debate and sex. There's a reason that for a time it was the play vehicle for one of the planet's most unexpected, unlikely pop arrivals. In 1984, the world was indeed the oyster of the decadent and unstoppable Frankie Goes To Hollywood.

"We are living in a land where sex and horror are the new gods." That line from Welcome To The Pleasuredome may have seemed bloated and over the top, but one has to wonder if Frankie, like the band, didn't have a relevant point. The production is loaded with a kind of poetic excess, but a pleasure it is. [If you think I'm merely selling it, just take the title track which literally lifts verse from the stanza of Kubla Khan [1816] by Samuel Taylor Coleridge and reorganizes it in grand Frankie fashion]. To be blunt, like an orgasm, these guys made things exciting, exhilarating, fast, furious and put you in their grip even if but for a few minutes within the respective music timeline. It's no wonder the whole thing disintegrated in a heap.

Frankie Goes To Hollywood Discography: Welcome To The Pleasuredome [1984; remastered 2 CD 2010] */ Bang! [1985]/ Liverpool [1986]/ Bang! The Greatest Hits Of Frankie Goes To Hollywood [1985]/ Reload! Frankie: The Whole 12 Inches [1994]/ Maximum Joy [2000]/ The Club Mixes 2000 [2000]/ Twelve Inches [2001]/ Rage Hard: The Sonic Collection [2001]/ Frankie Say Greatest [2009]. * The Sci-Fi Fanatic Say Greatest!

Holly Johnson Discography: Blast [1989] */ Hollelujah [1990]/ Dreams That Money Can't Buy [1991]/ Soulstream [1999].

Paul Rutherford Discography: Oh World [1989; reissued 2011] */ That Moon Ep [w/ Pressure Zone] [1989; reissued in 2010]/ The Cowboy Years [2010] [Paul Rutherford & The Butt Cowboys].