Mladen and Del review ‘Troll 2’
Image courtesy of Netflix.
“Troll 2” Starring Ine Marie Wilmann as eccentric troll chaser Nora Tidemann; Kim Falck as lovable self‑sacrificing Andreas Isaksen; what‑a‑great‑name Mads Sjøgård Pettersen as studly but kind Major Kristoffer Holm; Sara Khorami as sultry scientist and bureaucrat Marion Auryn Rhadani; and others. Directed by what‑another‑great‑name Roar Uthaug. 1 hour, 45 minutes. Rated TV-14. Streaming on Netflix.
Plot summary: After centuries of hibernation, a gigantic mountain troll is awakened and goes on a revenge-fueled rampage. A scratch group of lovable but eccentric scientists and lovable but bumbling bureaucrats must stop the creature before it reduces Norway to rubble.
Spoilers: Yes, this is a movie review after all.
Mladen’s take
When I imagine a troll, it’s a humanoid shape with a size that falls somewhere between a dwarf and an ogre or, in real world terms, between Rubio and Trump. I’m wrong about their size, if you believe Norwegians know more about trolls than me, a Croatian. In both the original 2022 “Troll” and the recently released “Troll 2,” these mythical creatures are, what, 15 stories tall, sentient, and scruffy. Without question, they should take some hair styling cues from Del.
While “Troll” is a very good movie, “Troll 2” is not. It just makes the cut as a B- because it’s too derived from the first “Troll” movie and predictable. But, “Troll 2” does have some merits despite its paint‑by‑numbers plot.
Ah, yes, the plot.
The federal government of Norway has shackled a tough‑looking mature male troll that was found hibernating. How do I know the troll is a male when its pubic region is covered by a thick growth of lichen? It lacks boobs, that’s how. Come to think of it, the algae beard is a bit of a giveaway, too.
Anyway, government scientists have reached a dead end studying the critter. They recruit troll whisperer Tidemann to help. She becomes instantly disgruntled because the bureaucrats and the military are treating the troll as an object and a threat because the troll in the first “Troll” movie rampaged trying to find its home in the mountains. Poof, in no time Tidemann is at the top of the scaffold erected near the troll. She approaches the troll, touches its warty nose, hums a Norwegian lullaby, and, whamo, the troll awakes. Mayhem ensues after the grandaddy of trolls, who I’ll call Buster, breaks free, steps on a few humans, and busts through the mountain redoubt where the government has been hiding him.
You may be asking why Buster is so angry, so determined, so focused on whapping Norway, whose people I’ve always thought of as being among the happiest and nicest in the world. Well, as it turns out, Norwegians haven’t always been so nice, especially when one of their medieval kings decided to force feed them, and trolls, Catholic Christianity.
I was enjoying the movie until Tidemann, accompanied by Isaksen, Holm, and Rhadani, commits a very non‑science‑y act. She goes to a cave where a late puberty troll is hiding from the world. She then asks the kid troll to stop the adult troll from wrecking Norway. And, I’m like, girl, ain’t no way your troll, ironically nicknamed “Beautiful,” stands a chance against Buster. So, yeah, Buster takes out Beautiful without the former every laying a hand, a paw, whatever, on the latter. I concede that the no‑fight is one of the cooler scenes in the movie. It deftly illustrated that Buster was a smart troll, indeed, but that scene, and a couple of others, aren’t enough to elevate the second movie to the original film’s level.
The CGI in “Troll 2” is good. The characters likable. The soundtrack adequate. Despite my unenthusiastic grade for the film, I recommend that you watch it. “Troll 2” has just enough moments sprinkled through its reasonable runtime to make it enjoyable. And, though you don’t need to see the original “Troll” to enjoy the unoriginal “Troll 2,” it won’t hurt. The way I figure it, you may as well see both to better prepare for the third Troll universe film that’s on the way.
Del’s take
First things first, let’s sort out the plethora of troll movies.
Back in the ’80s we had “Troll,” a not very good B horror movie, followed by a sequel in 1990, “Troll 2.” Didn’t much care for either. The trolls looked like Rat Fink dolls. (Fun facts: The lead actor in “Troll” was Noah Hathaway, who played the young boy Boxey in the original “Battlestar Galactica,” and Atreyu in “The Neverending Story.” His “Troll” character’s fictional name was “Harry Potter.”)
Then in 2010 came “Troll Hunter,” the first feature-length movie I watched on Netflix. That movie blew my mind. Or it might have been the six-pack of Corona I consumed while watching it. Either way, “Troll Hunter” set the standard for troll movies. I mean, c’mon on – a troll as big as a mountain contracting RABIES? What a trip!
Then in 2022, Netflix rolled out “Troll,” unrelated to the ’80s “Troll” or “Troll Hunter.” This new troll became Norway’s Godzilla – it stomped around, squashing buildings and whatnot. No fire breath. That could have helped. I liked it, though not as much as “Troll Hunter.”
Now we have “Troll 2,” another Netflix production and a sequel to the 2022 film. Same characters, same dilemma, just a tad sillier.
This movie’s strong points are its special effects, its setting (I never tire of seeing Norway’s beautiful back country and fjords), and its premise – that once, human beings and giant, humanoid creatures lived side-by-side in harmony, until religion arrived. That’s when trolls became persona non grata and were hunted down by marauding humans until only a few relics, unknown to modern man, remained within the deepest recesses of Norway’s Dovre Mountains.
“Troll 2’s” problems are as follows: It skimps on action, instead wasting valuable time re-establishing character backstories and hinting at romantic entanglements that go nowhere. As it happens, the pogrom against trolls is just one big screw-up resulting from a torn piece of paper – not even plausible in the error-prone Trump regime. Also, in my opinion, it relies too heavily on the viewer having seen the first movie. Apart from the viewpoint character and her military pal, I struggled to remember who these people were.
You’ll forgive my lack of wokeness on this issue, but the thought of gigantic, possibly rabies-infected monsters striding through major population centers leaves me feeling less concerned about their right to exist and more concerned about my right to not get squashed flat or eaten by said gigantic monster, which is exactly what happens in one ghastly scene where an enraged troll rips the roof off an Alpine disco and makes a quick snack of the badly dancing inhabitants within.
“Trolls 2” doesn’t give you much opportunity to worry about that. Instead, we see the military commander tasked with stopping this thing bringing his new love interest along on missions, which confused me. I thought the Tidemann character was his girlfriend. She’s not? Somebody better let her know because she, in her eccentric way, is still flirting with him. We see the newly married bureaucrat trading Star Trek puns with his wife, who is pregnant with their first child, who will be named after a Star Trek character. At that point you know he’s doomed to Red Shirt status. And we see the military commander’s bitchy girlfriend undergo a total character transformation so that by movie’s end she’s solidly Team Troll. It’s all a little too convenient and trite for my tastes.
Sounds like I didn’t like it, eh? Not true. It was OK. I don’t think it was equivalent to the first “Troll” but the premise was so interesting I couldn’t NOT like it. I’ll go along with Mladen’s grade of a B-, though I should give it a B just to disagree with him.
“Troll 2” continues a legacy of Scandinavian filmmaking that does not receive the credit it’s due. “Troll Hunter” is a classic, as is the Norwegian adventure movie “The Wave” and its followup, “The Quake.” Throw in the Finnish Nazi zombie movies “Dead Snow” and “War of the Dead,” the two Sisu films and the superb Swedish horror film “Let the Right One In” and you’ve got a fine collection of provocative – and evocative – speculative movies that deserve more attention than they’ve received.
“Troll 2” is not on the same level as those films but it comes close.
You can see it on Netflix.
Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical writer. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and writer.
Karen Wolfe (Jarnigan), Del Stone Jr., and Elizabeth Hefflefinger goof around in the parking lot of the Daily News in Fort Walton Beach, Fla., waiting for snow that was forecast to fall one Christmas Eve in the mid-1990s.
It’s a cold, gray day here in the panhandle of Florida and I’m remembering Karen Wolfe Jarnigan.
Thanksgiving Day, 1993. Karen is hosting a holiday get-together for us newsroom types at her Okaloosa Island townhouse. She’s got the Dolphins-Cowboys game on TV, and as a Dolphins’ fan, I’m mesmerized. She and I make plans for a concert in Pensacola. Then, a miracle on ice: A Cowboys player slips on the sleet-coated field and knocks the ball into the end zone, giving the Dolphins a chance to kick a game-winning field goal. They do. Dolphins win, 16-14.
Monday night. I’m city editor. Karen is cops reporter, something she doesn’t normally do. She must be filling in for somebody. There’s been a triple homicide, the ghastly Edward Zakrzewski case. The details are so horrible Karen is on the verge of tears, but she works the story and somehow gets the name of the suspect, which we report, exclusively, the next morning.
Five o’clock in the morning of Oct. 3, 1995. My telephone rings. I pick it up. “THERE’SACATEGORY3HURRICANEHEADINGRIGHTATUSCANIEVACUATE – ” I hold up my hand, placating, though she can’t see it because she lives 10 miles away in Mary Esther, with Tracey Steele and Marley the cat. I tell her to let me check the TV. I’ll call her right back. I turn on The Weather Channel. There’s John Hope, TWC’s geriatric hurricane expert, pointing to a nasty vortex called Opal, smack dab in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, racing for the western Florida panhandle. I call her back. “You can – ” “OK bye!” she shouts and drops the phone. Thus begins a strange evacuation odyssey that will be retold in stories for years to come.
I’m driving down Hollywood Boulevard one sleepy Saturday afternoon and I spot the complex of Cumulus radio stations coming up. On impulse I pull in to wave at Karen through the studio window during her afternoon gig. She drags me into the booth and we have an impromptu on-air session.
Doc calls and asks a favor. He wants me to make sure Karen is in the newsroom on a certain day at a certain time. He has something planned. So I come up with a cock-eyed story for Karen about an important interview subject dropping by the newsroom at the appointed hour. I need her to be there. Make sure she’s there! Karen asks questions. She knows something is up; she just doesn’t know what. We do this back-and-forth thing and I’m sure, I’m just POSITIVE, she’s going to bolt from the newsroom like a filly breaking out of its paddock. But finally, there’s Doc, over by Dorothy’s desk. He’s wearing a black tux. He’s carrying a dozen roses, so red they look like Disney roses. The newsroom falls silent as he threads his way through the desks to Karen. She’s understandably shocked. He drops to one knee, and Karen’s hand flies to her mouth, the way everyone’s hand flies to their mouth when they’re asked to share their life with another person. It’s all very, very good.
Karen and Doc’s wedding. It looks like most everybody from the Daily News and WKSM is there. It’s held at a church I’ve never attended; the room is bright. Everyone is happy.
Karen comes up with an idea. We should give a small award for people in the newsroom who’ve done a good job on a story, photo, column, page, or whatever. These awards would be given out each week during our Wednesday staff meeting. The presenter would rotate among the staff and would be responsible for picking out a token gift – a candy bar from the vending machine, an inexpensive plastic cup, just something. Everybody loves the idea. Thus, the Wolfie Awards are born, named for their creator. Eventually the newspaper pays a $25 stipend for each Wolfie. Even today, when Daily News vets from the ’90s and ’00s get together, the subject of the Wolfies comes up.
The year is 2000. I’m in Dayton, Ohio, for my niece’s wedding. At the reception I’m talking to Chris, a wise guy from the same part of New York where Karen once lived. I take out my brick of a cell phone, a trusty Nokia perpetually strapped to my waist, and call Karen. I tell her I’m talking to a wise guy from the same part of New York where she once lived. I hand the phone to the wise guy. He and Karen talk New York stuff. I approve. This is appropriate for a guy who’s four beers into his niece’s wedding reception.
Other memories, floating in my mind like confetti:
Karen ushers in the granny-gown-and-combat-boots look for the newsroom.
We go to the concert in Pensacola and people think I’m her dad.
I make Karen cry by being a jerk to her in a budget meeting.
Karen, Elizabeth Hefflefinger and I stand in the Daily News parking lot on a cold and cloudy Christmas Eve, watching for snowflakes that never fall.
And now, another memory. Of a phone call missed, and a text message with the terrible news.
Karen was a sweet soul.
She loved fiercely and she was loved with equal ferocity, not just by those who knew her but the community at large, which made her acquaintance through her stories in
the newspaper and her sessions at the radio station.
She is remembered by more people than we’ll ever know.
I’ve missed her for years, and I miss her even more knowing I can’t pick up the phone and yell, “Hey Wolfie! What are you doing?”
A sad day.
I want her husband, Doc, and her kids to know they brought her all the happiness a person can want in this world. In fact, I can’t think of a better epitaph for anybody:
She was happy.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Image courtesy of Screen Gems.
“Sisu: Road to Revenge” Starring Jorma Tommila as Astami Korpi (Sisu), Stephen Lang as Igor Dragonov and Richard Brake as the evil KGB officer. Directed by Jalmari Helander. 1 hour, 29 minutes. Rated R. Theatrical release.
Spoilers: No.
Plot summary: Sisu returns to his former family home, which is now behind Soviet lines, to recover timbers for a new house in Finland. But the man who murdered Sisu’s family is given orders to finish the job, and Sisu must battle the crazed killer – and the Red Army – to make his way back home.
Del’s take
“Sisu: Road to Revenge” is a flaming train of fiery dumpsters hurtling down the track at breakneck speed, conducted by a maniacal tweaker three days into withdrawal, his drool-flecked lips twitching as his finger hovers over a trigger that will detonate 40,000 pounds of TNT, nitro and an atomic bomb, all at once, and somebody better damn well give him what he wants or the duck he’s taken hostage is gonna end up in a confit – or as confetti.
That’s pretty much the plot of “Sisu.” Equal parts violence and absurdity, “Sisu” is so ridiculous and funny it’s impossible not to love, kinda like that goofy pitbull that slobbers you with kisses but scares the bejesus out of everyone else. It’s not a grindhouse movie and it’s not serious drama. Rather, it walks somewhere between films like “Machete,” “Return of the Living Dead II” and “From Dusk till Dawn.”
The story is simple: Sisu returns to the territory occupied by the USSR during World War II to recover timbers from the family home. He wants to rebuild his house – and his life – in what remains of Finland. All hell breaks loose when the Russians unleash psychotic killer Igor Dragonov (Stephen Lang), the man who diced up Sisu’s wife and sons with a shovel, to “clean up” the mess he created and terminate Sisu.
Everything about Sisu is primordial, elemental and unyielding, from the war wagon of a truck he drives – the thing looks like it was forged in the foundries of Hell – to Sisu himself, an unkillable killing machine who, like John Wick or the Road Warrior, destroys only those who deserve to be destroyed. Even when tortured so horrifically his back resembles a Strawberry Pop Tart warmed with an arc welder, Sisu bears his misery like a monk who has taken a vow of silence.
But there’s a human side to the myth. John Wick has his dog. Frodo has his ring. And Sisu has his timbers, which he treats with divine reverence – they are symbols of his family. He salvaged them barehanded from the empty house and now they will salvage him – from Molotov cocktails, marauding IL-2 Sturmaviks, T-55 tanks and more machine gun rounds than Al Capone’s felony convictions.
Like “Toxic Avenger” it’s all done with a sly wink. The manic inventiveness of the kills and the relentlessly kinetic action propel the story so briskly you almost miss the sly humor, which I warn you, is dark. Sisu trying to sneak through a train car filled with sleeping soldiers, or crawling bare-chested through broken glass, only to stick his fingers into a rat trap – it’s wince-inducing, yes, but in the Sisu universe it’s freaking hilarious.
Stephen Lang is the only face you’ll recognize in this bunch and he does a terrific job of portraying the murderous Red Army psychopath Draganov. Never fear. Draganov will get what’s coming to him, and you’ll groan with both horror and hilarity when it happens.
“Road to Revenge” is not for the faint of heart but by movie’s end, if you can stick it out that long, you’ll be cheering for this Finnish Rambo as he deals out a lethal dose of truth, justice and the Sisu way.
I’m giving “Sisu: Road to Revenge” an A. It’s vastly entertaining. Mad Max and John McClaine may have to make room for “the Immortal,” as the Russians call Sisu.
As they say in the land of Nokia, “Yippee-ki-yay, kusipää!”
Mladen’s take
Ever wonder what happens to a horse when it steps on an anti‑tank mine? Watch the first Sisu movie. In this one, the Nazis are the enemy.
Ever wonder what happens to a Russian soldier after he gets caught beneath the heavily studded, rear wheel of a 6 × 6 fortress truck from another dimension when the clutch is popped? Watch the second “Sisu” movie, which Del and I couldn’t stop enjoying despite its profound absurdness.
“Sisu: Road to Revenge” is bonkers whacky nuts with a swirl of outlandish and a dash of demon hot sauce.
As with any good piece of violence cinema, “Sisu” delivers at every level. This movie is a linear bundle of coherent mayhem. It depicts thoughtful violence. Creative violence. Violence by fire, bullet, and explosion. And, dare I say, subtle violence. There’s never pointless violence. Loved it all.
Hell, Sisu doesn’t say one word the whole time, though he releases howls, screams, and murmurs. Yet, somehow, the Ferocious Finn is still charismatic and likable.
I don’t understand how “Wicked: For Good” surpassed “Sisu” at the box office on their shared opening weekend. Like “Wicked,” “Sisu” is about righting wrongs, overcoming obstacles, and enduring when all seems lost. But it was the fairies and the flying monkeys that raked in the big bucks. Gross.
Though I agree with Del that “Sisu” is an A. I disagree with his opening paragraph characterization of our hyper-hero. Sisu, who has a name in the film by the way, Aatami Korpi, is deliberate in his capacity to extract himself spontaneously from dire situations. He has no need for food or water, not to mention alcohol or drugs, because the Unfathomable Finn is driven by the pursuit of justice and longing for his murdered wife and sons. He survived World War II in the first “Sisu.” He sure as hell managed the Commies in “Sisu: Road to Revenge.” Wonder who he’ll pulverize, skewer, perforate, or detonate with endless bursts of innovative defensive aggression in the third film.
I promise. When you leave the theater after seeing “Sisu,” you’ll be confident that the evil ones among us will, painfully, encounter their culture’s equivalent of “Sisu,” a human who’s only inhumane to those who deserve inhumanity.
What does “Wicked” have to offer? The maudlin moral that all is not what it seems and even bad people can be redeemed. Sheesh.
Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical writer. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and writer.
Image courtesy of 20th Century Studios.
“Predator: Badlands” Starring Elle Fanning as Thia/Thessa, Dimitrius Schuster-Kolomatangi as Dek (the Predator), Rohinal Nayaran as Bud, and others. Directed by Dan Trachtenberg. 1 hour 47 minutes. Rated PG-13.
Plot summary: Dek, the runt from a litter of Yautja, must prove he’s a good Predator by executing an impossible hunt to earn his “cloak” and the respect of his Father’s clan.
Spoilers: Undoubtedly
Mladen’s take
You won’t believe what you’re about to read because it ain’t the general notion of what a Predator universe film is supposed to be. “Predator: Badlands” is – are you ready – a very good character‑driven buddy movie that’s also laden with creature roars, chitters, and screeches, lots of explosions, plenty of adventure, and doses of humor in all the right places at the right time.
Oh, the movie is about friendship and belonging and family and loyalty, too. Not the Trump administration type of loyalty where fealty is practiced by assholes to appease higher-up assholes, but loyalty to good people who are willing to stake their lives to protect you.
My God, I sound like Del. No?
You should also know that Badlands has an “Alien” and “Aliens” vibe. The bad guys work for the Weyland‑Yutani Corporation. The corporation is still in the business of harvesting, growing, breeding, etc., bioweapons as it does in the Alien movie franchise. In Badlands, it’s after the Kalisk, which is what our hero, Dek the Predator, also wants but for a different reason. Huh, wonder why Director Dan Trachtenberg inserted the evil company in the Badlands flick, which, yup, sets up a sequel.
There is nothing novel about the Badlands story‑telling foundation but the story‑telling is done beautifully.
Dek, the runt from a litter of Yautja, must prove he’s a good Predator by executing an impossible hunt to earn his “cloak” and the respect of his Father’s clan. Schuster-Kolomatangi does a good job conveying CGI Dek’s frustrations and foibles. He also does a good job speaking Yautja‑ese, which demands the throaty clicks that are used in some African languages. More important, Schuster‑Kolomatangi evolves Dek from a one‑dimensional honor‑seeking Predator to a Yautja who learns that belonging is more than trying to fulfill an imposed birthright. The family he helps build during his adventures and misadventures on planet Genna is far more important than the clan he was born to.
But, Elle Fanning as good “synth” Thia and obedient synth Thessia, is the spark that carries the film. My goodness, and this is tough to admit, Fanning is as smart, charming, and pretty as Mary Elizabeth Winstead, who stars in top‑notch movies such as “10 Cloverfield Lane.” I now adore two actresses for the same reasons. I suspect they’d be as cool and intelligent face‑to‑face as the characters they play in films.
Fanning’s Thia wanted more from life than to serve Weyland-Yutani and its AI comptroller, Mother. She saw Genna and its flora and fauna as magnificent beings in their own right better suited for study and understanding than exploitation for profit without mercy. She protected Dek even when he refused to admit he needed protection. And, she accepted Bud from the get-go, patiently but inexorably showing Dek Bud’s value as a member of their newly established clan. And that was before they realized what Bud is.
As Thessia, Fanning acted the opposite of her Thia character. Thessia was all pragmatism and programming as Weyland‑Yutani wanted. She was intimidated when she spoke to Mother (the MU/TH/UR 6000 computer system). She had no concern about deactivating and stowing her fellow synth Thia because Thia showed a tendency to think and act to the detriment of executing corporate missions.
I’ll avoid going into detail about the Badlands cinematography and sound. I’ll say this, though: Both are superb. A Dolby theater is the be‑all for action thriller sci‑fi movie watching. Man, the film looks and sounds like you’re on Genna trying to dodge plants that behave like octopus tentacles or are sharp enough to flense you. The Kalisk can re‑integrate its head with its body even after the head is severed and goes tumbling meters away.
“Predator: Badlands” is the first completely enjoyable sci-fi film I’ve seen in a long time. What was the one before that? “Shin Godzilla” from 2016. No question. Badlands is an A. How do you know I know? Because I don’t even care that Badlands is rated PG-13. And, as with “Shin Godzilla,” I’m counting the days to its release on 4K disc.
Del’s take
I’ve never understood the logic of the Predator universe.
You’ve got these aggressive sociopathic hunters who prize violence above all else, yet they possess high technology, suggestive of a more cooperative civilization. After all, it takes a village to create a shoulder-mounted blaster with triple-laser sighting, right?
If future movies elaborate on the Predator culture they should suggest the Predators we see are a caste of violent monsters separate from their more civilized brethren, like MAGA, except the Predators actually walk the talk. The MAGAts are definitely keyboard warriors and Meal Team 6.
Overall I think the Predator movies have held up well as a franchise. Others, including the endless Alien, Terminator and Die Hard movies, devolve into absurdity over time, but the Predators just keep soldiering on, even the Alien vs. Predator movies, which I thought were pretty good. The only Predator movie I can remember actively disliking was “Predators” with Adrien Brody, which struck me as a pointless bloodbath.
Every new movie seems to advance the evolution of the Predator species and “Badlands” does that to a greater extent than its predecessors. Where the creatures were solitary hunters in the past, Dek has a name and a need for companionship, though he rationalizes that need as a use of “tools.” Only later does he tacitly accept that his new “tools” have become members of his “clan.” That would be a clan of choice, a concept not lost on members of the LGBTQ community. Maybe Dek is gay! Maybe his nickname is Bubba.
It pains me to do this but I’m going to give Mladen credit for (a) accurately and effectively summarizing the movie and characterizing its content. There’s not much for me to add except, “What he said.” I didn’t see “Badlands” at a Dolby Orgasmitron thingamajiggie-equipped theater so I can’t speak to the splendid audio effects, but they sounded pretty good at my low-rent showing. And I too was impressed with the acting – I remember Elle Fanning as the insufferable pain-in-the-ass brat from “War of the Worlds” so it was nice to see her portraying a character I could get behind. I did think the pet Bud was contrived and kind of silly – that is until I found out what it really was.
Also, I was impressed by the way the writers further wove together the Alien and Predator universes. I now have a mental association between the fictional Weyland-Yutani company and Peter Thiel’s all-too-real (unfortunately) Palantir. Weyland-Yutani might have a tad more soul.
I’ll keep this short: “Predator: Badlands” is a good movie. Don’t waste it on streaming. You need to see it before it rolls out of town, even at a theater equipped with one of Mladen’s Dolby Orgasmitron thingamajiggies.
I’m giving it an A.
Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical writer. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and writer.
Image courtesy of Del Stone Jr.
Somebody in Fort Walton Beach, somebody in the deepest, darkest heart of the South, where hatred of the LGBTQ community is so ubiquitous it’s practically taught in schools, had the courage to paint their driveway in Pride colors.
Thank you.
The moment I saw it, I almost cried.
To know that one other person here has offered a shoulder to lean on, to uplift us when we are surrounded by daily assaults from the Trump regime and violent, Jesus-hating radical Christians … well, what can I say?
It’s beautiful. It brought me a moment of hope in these dark afternoons.
I’m sending you a Christmas card. I may even drop off a poinsettia. Merry Christmas to you.
And thank you.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Image courtesy of Focus Features.
“Bugonia” Starring Emma Stone, Jesse Plemons and Aiden Delbes. Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos. 1 hour, 58 minutes. Rated R. Theatrical release.
Plot synopsis: Two young men kidnap the CEO of a pharmaceutical company after becoming convinced she’s an alien invader masquerading as a human being.
Spoilers: No.
Del’s take
“Bugonia,” Yorgos Lanthimos’ most accessible film, is dramatic, violent, weird, gory and hilarious – in other words, it’s the strangest movie you’ll see this year.
I can’t pin down the message. Is it a condemnation of Big Pharma or a larger indictment of corporate greed and inhumanity? Does it mock MAGA-like conspiracy theorists or is it a cautionary tale about the military-industrial complex? It appears to wear all of those hats and none of them. In the end, I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
The story is about Teddy (played by Jesse Plemons), who believes high-power Auxolith CEO Michelle (Emma Stone) is an Andromedan who has come here to eliminate mankind by way of pollution and climate change. Teddy hatches an insane plan: He and his autistic cousin Don (Aidan Delbis) will kidnap Michelle, shave off her hair so she can’t communicate with her fellow Andromedans on the mothership, and force her to set up a powwow with the Andromedan emporer. Teddy hopes to convince the emporer to withdraw the Andromedans who are fucking up the Earth, allowing the planet’s ecosystem and psychic balance to be restored … or something like that.
But all plans go awry when contact is made with the enemy. Don is the conscience of the pair and begins to question Teddy’s reasoning and motivation, especially when it becomes known Teddy’s mother Sandy (Alica Silverstone) participated in an Auxolith medical trial way back when and now lies in a coma at a corporate medical facility. And Teddy’s childhood babysitter, sheriff’s deputy Casey (Stavros Halkias), who molested Teddy when he was a young boy, comes sniffing around as Michelle lies chained to a cot in Teddy’s basement.
Through it all Teddy remains maniacally determined to negotiate a withdrawal by the Andromedans so that everything on Earth can become good again. Michelle is equally determined to extract herself from the clutches of these two lunatics and resume her empty life as a powerbroker in the world of Big Pharma. It’s all very bleak but leavened with sardonic humor, and you almost believe it’s going to work out. Almost.
The first act is plodding but as things careen downhill through the second and third acts, events move along rapidly, in synch with the unraveling of Teddy’s plan and his sanity.
All three primary actors do superb work here. Oscar nominations wouldn’t surprise me. And Lanthimos has put together a fairly intricate movie where all the i’s are dotted and the t’s crossed, weird as it is.
But again, the movie’s subtext seems inconsistent. At times it’s supportive of the Michelle character and her worldview, at other times bitterly critical. Then there’s Teddy, alternately portrayed as a decent guy made cynical by Big Pharma or a complete whacko. Don’s character remains true to his nature throughout, a noble savant swept away by forces that don’t make sense to them or us.
I think people who like this sort of thing will love “Bugonia,” and others who don’t will hate it. In some ways it reminds me of another movie with “bug” in its title, 2006’s “Bug” with Ashley Judd and Michael Shannon. That movie also featured a kind of hostage-taking, and characters who were grappling with altered perceptions of reality. Or were they?
“Bugonia” is cleverly written and some of Michelle’s soliloquies are pure gold of modern corporatespeak. After about the halfway mark the movie becomes impossible NOT to watch. Still, as an entertainment value, I thought it was lacking – too violent, too inconsistent in its messaging, and just too strange. For that reason I’m giving it a B-. It has amassed a 70 percent Rotten Tomatoes score and earned $5.8 million over the weekend, putting it in fifth place at the box office. By the way, I was the only person in the theater, so get thee to a movie theater for the next big showing, which I expect will be “Predator: Badlands.”
Mladen was out fossil hunting and couldn’t join me for “Bugonia.” Why does he need fossils when he’s got ME for a friend?
Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical writer. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and writer.
Image courtesy of Del Stone Jr.
This was the scene at Casa Del Mar for last night’s Spookfest. A few observations:
A. I managed to sit in that driveway for five hours with only one pee break, a new post-Young Del record.
B. My first trick-or-treaters arrived at 5:41 p.m. When I went to bed at 10:30 I could still hear them outside.
C. Usually there’s a 50-50 mix of young kids to teenagers. This year there was a definite majority of young kids.
D. My oldest trick-or-treater had a beard.
E. Nobody offered me alcohol this year.
F. I was watching John Carpenter’s “Halloween” on the laptop while handing out candy. The laptop froze probably five times during the playback. One cause was constant Microsoft updates. Other causes … unknown.
G. During the one and only sex scene in “Halloween,” A PG-rated clip of P.J. Soles and her boyfriend gyrating under the sheets, a group of teenaged trick-or-treaters arrived. I quickly learned to pause the movie and in some cases, lower the screen.
H. I had loaded up on Snickers bars this year because they were always the No. 1 choice in the past. No more. Smarties is now the new popular candy.
I. I used a votive candle in my jack-o-lantern and it stayed lit the entire night.
J. How many trick-or-treaters did I have? I didn’t count. But I started with five of those big $30 bags of candy and I now have one.
K. The kids were mostly polite, though I noticed more kids this year wanting to grab fistfuls of candy.
L. There were more adults than kids, though the adults didn’t ask for anything. They were escorting.
M. FWBPD was riding through the neighborhood on electric bikes, complete with flashing lights.
N. The best costume of the night belonged to a kid who made a box, decorated it with lights and graphics, and wore it over his entire body. He was a box of Topps trading cards.
O. On Halloween nights past things usually wrapped at 8:30, 8:45 at the latest. Last night I called it quits at 9:20 but as I said, I could still hear kids going up and down the street at 10:30 when I went to bed.
P. Today I found three pieces of candy in the driveway dropped by kids.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Image courtesy of Angel Studios.
“Truth & Treason” Starring Ewan Horrocks, Rupert Evans, Ferdinand McKay and Daf Thomas. Directed by Matt Whitaker. 2 hours, 1 minute. Rated PG-13. Theatrical release.
Plot synopsis: Angered by the arrest of his Jewish friend and disillusioned with Nazi Germany after hearing wartime BBC broadcasts, a German teen recruits two of his friends to help circulate leaflets condemning Adolf Hitler – with catastrophic results.
Spoilers: Yes.
Del’s take
I should have liked “Truth & Treason” a lot more than I did.
The story is terrific, about a group of teenage boys who sneak out after curfew to spread anti-Nazi leaflets and essays across the city of Hamburg, Germany in the early years of World War II as the Wehrmacht juggernaut is rolling across Poland, western Europe and Russia.
The parallels between 1940 Germany and 2025 America are undeniable and terrifying. As somebody who read William Shirer’s excellent “The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich” and told himself “It could never happen here,” I found myself shuddering at the image of Nazi recruiting posters that bear an uncanny resemblance to the ICE recruiting memes I saw online just last week.
But “Truth & Treason” is strangely lifeless. The story is told with the callow earnestness of a Boy Scout merit badge project, depriving it of an emotional heart.
That’s too bad because it’s a fascinating story about actual events. Ewan Horrocks plays Helmuth Hübner, a 16-year-old German teen who is part of a posse of four boys – himself, Salomon Schwarz (played by Nye Occomore), Karl-Heinz Schnibbe (Ferdinand McKay) and Rudi Wobbe (Daf Thomas). They jump off bridges together, beat up obnoxious Hitler Youth leaders together, and read subversive books. Then, Helmuth’s older brother returns from the front with a forbidden item – a radio that allows the boys to hear broadcasts from outside the country. It is from those broadcasts Helmuth learns the truth about Nazi Germany. Meanwhile Salomon, who is Jewish, is picked up by the SS and dispatched to Auschwitz. The convergence of those two events radicalizes young Helmuth, who borrows his church’s typewriter to create leaflets critical of Hitler and the Nazis. A local SS officer, Erwin Mussener (Rupert Evans) finds some of Helmuth’s leaflets and launches an investigation. From that point the movie follows the expected trajectory.
The problem with “Truth & Treason” is that it never really develops any of its characters as people, and it glosses over the entanglements of relationships so that when the story reaches its inevitable conclusion, there’s not much in the way of an emotional climax. Mladen will probably fuss about that because he’s not a touchy-feely kind of guy but in this case an emotional bond between character on screen and person sitting in the audience is crucial to the film’s success, yet there’s little to no attachment because nothing much is done with the characters as living, breathing human beings.
Instead, the movie focuses more on the mechanical process of storytelling. Helmuth’s transformation from uncommitted Hitler Youth member to risk-taking radical occurs quickly and without sufficient demonstration. I mean, yes, we see Salomon taken into custody by the Gestapo and yes, we hear radio broadcasts denouncing Hitler. But somehow it’s not enough and then boom! we’ve moved on to the next step in the process.
The only character who rises above the mundane is Rupert Evans as Mussener, the SS investigator who, like Helmuth, begins to realize the Hitler regime is built on a foundation of lies. He is torn between his duty and his humanity, and Evans does an excellent job of portraying this growing inner conflict.
The movie takes pains to stress two points which are relevant to 21st century America. It wraps with a quote attributed to Russian lawyer and dissident Alexy Navalny: “Sometimes the greatest rebellion is to simply speak the truth!” The other appears in a coda presented as the credits roll – I believe it was director Whitaker who appeared and urged moviegoers to “Practice courage,” an unmistakable call to action for resistance against the fascist lies propagated by the Trump regime.
“Truth & Treason” is a timely and important movie about an act of courage, but in my opinion the story is not told as well as it could have been. Therefore, instead of giving it an A score, I’m giving it a B.
See it, yes, but don’t expect to come out of the theater with tears in your eyes.
Mladen’s take
Let’s get honest about Truth. The word has no meaning today, probably never has at any time in history.
Truth is an obnoxious concoction of beliefs and historical contextlessness. Its users wield Truth as though it’s the same as Fact.
Day in and day out on the internets, we are exposed to Truth. Truth about eye shadow and Botox, about paleodiets and veganism, about Democrats and Republicans, about the economy and unemployment rate, about cryptocurrency, about the war in Ukraine, about the slaughter in Gaza and Darfur. If a story in a newspaper or magazine or on the web has Truth in its headline, I never read it. Truth is nothing more than someone’s opinion about Fact. If there is no Fact involved at all, Truth is Bullshit.
Boy, that was therapeutic.
So, for me, the film “Truth & Treason” already had a big-ass strike against it even before Del and I sat down to watch it. The movie should’ve been titled “Fact & Treason” because Fact exists no matter what we believe to be Truth. The Fact is that Hitler started World War II in Europe and three years later authorized the full-scale bureaucratization of the Final Solution. The Fact of industrial slaughter of millions of people is appalling and hideous all on its own. There’s nothing that neo-Nazis or holocaust deniers can do to change the Fact. What they can do is try to sell you the Truth. The Truth of the genetic inferiority of the Slavic races. The Truth of the financial takeover of the planet by Jews. The Truth of homosexuality as unnatural.
Fact, on the other hand, needs no spokesman. Fact needs no interpreter. Fact needs no political party. Fact takes no sides. Fact is.
It came to pass, of course, that the kid pamphleteer in “Truth & Treason” faced a Nazi judge who effortlessly pointed out that the Allies fighting the Axis had their own cruel histories of barbarism and colonialism and murdering the innocent. Yes, the Nazi judge was a piece of Hitler‑enabling slag. And, yes, the Nazi judge was correct about American and English and French conquest of peoples not as well armed with weapons or propaganda. He, too, spoke the Truth as he defined it.
Truth lets us take sides, no matter who is offending whom. Fact is undisputable. All the governments of the states fighting World War II were savage, and, as Fact now shows, would be again. Their Truths prevailed because they were able to suffocate Fact with bullets and bombs and global trade.
In “Truth & Treason,” the pamphleteer and judge contorted or ignored Fact to speak the Truth as each understood its meaning. In “Truth & Treason” only Evans as Mussener showed that he understood the difference between Truth and Fact. He then made a choice. Mussener decided Truth was better than Fact.
Del is correct, “Truth & Treason” speaks to the times we now face. But, then again, Fact shows that humanity has sucked and always will. The failure of “Truth & Treason” to mitigate that Fact pisses me off. The movie generated an antagonist who was far more compelling and alert than the teenaged protagonist, who, of all things, liked opera, which to me is nothing more than organized screaming. And that’s Fact.
“Truth & Treason” notches a C+.
Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical writer. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and writer.
Image courtesy of Disney Studios.
“Tron: Ares” Starring Jared Leto as Ares, Greta Lee as Eve Kim, Jodie Turner-Smith as Athena, Evan Peters as Julian Dillinger and others. Directed by Joachim Rǿnning. 1 hour 59 minutes. Rated PG-13.
Spoilers: Sure.
Mladen’s take
Don’t listen to the other critics talking crap about “Tron: Ares.” It’s a good movie with a touch of heart despite the sometimes too loud Goth industrial electropunk score and its very, very vivid color palette.
I saw the film (twice) in 3D, once in IMAX and the last time in a plain ole theater. Wholly guacamole did the reds of the filmography and the Nine Inch Nails soundtrack dig deep into my brain’s sensory lobes. After, oh, 45 minutes of exposure to the pulsating everything on the screen and the raucous thumping of lows and highs coming from the speakers I got tired, if not frustrated, by the frenetic aural and visual activity. But, like the trooper I am, I persevered to see the guts of computers anthropomorphized into human forms reflecting the good and bad of our species, as well as humans being human.
Jared Leto does a good job as Ares, a program that evolves from a data‑spouting automaton following directives without question at the beginning of the film to a human-like being trying to understand the difference between right and wrong while chasing the “Permanence Code.” Jodie Turner‑Smith as Athena was a confident, menacing foil to Ares’ introspective side. She kicked ass and came back for more again and again. No “Impediment” was going to stop her from completing her mission.
Ares’ wish to “live” made it/him sympathetic. Who among us doesn’t want to stop taking orders from The Man to chase our dreams? Obedient Athena – obedient to the “user” who runs her “Grid” – is determined to fulfill her directive – find human Kim, teleport her to the Grid by deconstructing her, reconstruct her as a digital copy, and extract the Permanence Code from Kim though it will kill her. Athena’s single mindedness, if it could be described that way, is chilling.
The Ares and Athena antagonism unfolds amid a feud between corporate titan and good gal Kim, charmingly played by Lee, and corporate titan and bad guy Dillinger, effectively played by Peters, as they pursue the Permanence Code for the artificial creations their hyper‑fast, algorithm‑driven, and laser‑spewing machines produce. Permanence means that programs like Ares and Athena manifesting in the Real would survive longer than 29 minutes, the confounding limit of their life spans outside their home world. Of course, Kim wants to use permanence to feed humanity, provide health care, and develop alternative fuels. Yeah, Dillinger wants to sell permanence weapons to the military.
“Tron: Ares” is a B+. There’s no need to see it in 3D, which costs more. It just worked out that way for me. I suspect the film’s loudness and vividness was amplified by the 3D, bringing the film close to sensory overload.
Del’s take
I barely remember the 1982 “Tron” (I think I watched it drunk) and “Tron: Legacy” exists in my memory as a single image of Jeff Bridges standing atop some towering digital artifact. In truth the premise of these movies – that flesh-and-blood human beings can be digitized and loaded into a computer, then reconstituted thanks to the miracle of laser 3-D printers – is so freaking stupid I’m not willing to suspend my disbelief.
That’s weird because many of the movies I love – “The Matrix,” “Cloverfield,” “Star Wars: A New Hope” (the best “Star Wars” movie EVER and I don’t care what Mladen says) – are based on stupid premises yet I love them just the same. If I were having this conversation with a therapist he or she would want me to drill down to the real reason I don’t like them.
I think it’s because the plots are so very very standard-issue, unimaginative good-guy-vs.-bad-guy pablum we’ve seen a bazillion times in the past: Loser squares off against powerful dude – the love of a good woman is at stake – and somehow, despite EVERYTHING, the loser succeeds and becomes a not-loser, which I guess we call a winner.
That’s “Tron: Ares,” only this time the loser is a digital proprietary program that malfunctions … and develops a soul. I’m not sure how you 3-D map a soul but that doesn’t stop “Tron: Ares” and let’s just say he follows the trajectory of all these superhero and quasi-superhero movies to their inevitable conclusion. At least the Marvel movies have the decency to throw in some self-deprecating humor. None of that here.
The movie is gorgeous to look at although the digital domain, with its dominant red and black color palette, reminded me of Hell. The special effects were what you might expect from a movie who’s sole artistic virtue is special effects.
Jared Leto was wooden as Ares but then you can’t blame him – he was playing the part he was given. Really, everybody here did an adequate job of filling their roles, although Gillian Anderson and Evan Peters are always better in anything they do.
My understanding is that one of the major draws was the Nine Inch Nails soundtrack. I was expecting something on the order of Vangelis’ score for “Blade Runner,” but no, that would not be an apt comparison. Trent Reznor went all Teutonic Goth and produced a hammering, thunderous score that relentlessly beats you into a bloody, cowering pulp hiding behind your seat on the sticky floor. It’s way too much. I came out of the theater feeling like I’d gone 10 rounds with Oleksandr Usyk.
The other night I cleansed my palate with one of the greatest science fiction-horror movies of the ’60s ever made, the vastly underrated “Quatermass and the Pit.” My God, what a movie! It reminded me that good films that tell original stories really do exist in more than just concept. I hope one day to see another movie that inspires that kind of enthusiasm from me. In 2025 it seems Hollywood is more focused on churning out “content” and making as much money as possible. Art is no longer part of the equation. How sad.
Mladen was too generous in his rating of “Tron: Ares.” It’s really worth only a C+. Even the original arcade game it’s based on was better, though good luck finding a functional machine today.
By all means, see “Tron: Ares” in a theater. But bring your headphones to filter out some of the thunder.
Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical writer. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and writer.
Photo courtesy of NARA & DVIDS
Did you hear Department of Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem, aka Gestapo Barbie, recently spent $172 million of YOUR tax dollars for a couple of swanky new private jets so that she and her chestnut-colored Lady Clairol hair extensions can jet-set around the globe in comfort and luxury?
Do you appreciate the atrocious optics of this purchase?
At a time when almost 300,000 civil servants have been fired from their jobs so the government can save money and apply those savings to paying down the national debt. …
At a time when almost 15,000,000 Americans are being thrown out of their health insurance coverage so the government can save money and apply those savings to paying down the national debt. …
At a time when government agencies and services are being gutted so the government can save money and apply those savings to paying down the national debt. …
At a time when WE are being told we must cut back, sacrifice and do without so the government can save money and pay down the national debt. …
SHE spends $172 million of YOUR tax dollars for a couple of swanky new Gulfstreams so that she and her chestnut-colored Lady Clairol hair extensions can jet-set around the globe in comfort and luxury!
Are you fucking kidding me?
And would you like to know how many of those saved dollars have actually been applied to paying down the national debt? Go ahead. Take a guess.
ZERO.
ZERO DOLLARS have been applied to paying down the national debt, because debt remediation is paid through budget surpluses and there won’t be a budget surplus this year. In fact, that Lizard King in the White House and his moronic minions have added another 4 TRILLION DOLLARS to the national debt.
The national debt is now higher than 40 TRILLION DOLLARS.
And Gestapo Barbie just spent another $172 million of YOUR tax dollars on a couple of swanky new private jets so that she and her chestnut-colored Lady Clairol hair extensions can jet-set around the globe in comfort and luxury.
That $172 million would have allowed almost 22,000 people to regain their Medicaid coverage.
If this doesn’t piss you off – if this doesn’t ENRAGE you – you are one dumb son-of-a-bitch.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .