Monday, February 28, 2011
The Hidden Mickey Club
Disney, I am handing you this idea for free. The best part of Disney isn’t the attractions, isn’t the food, and it isn’t even the scenery. The best part of Walt Disney World is all the little intricate details that hold it all together. Think about it, every restaurant has a story, every attraction has a story, and even most of the trees have a story as imported plants are usually associated with a sign mentioning their origin and their features. Now, lately the details have been a little slacking, with the dismal parade at Hollywood Studios and some additions that doesn’t match the themes of said park. My idea (this is free, once again) is that the Imagineers should form a squad called the Hidden Mickey Club.
The Hidden Mickey Club consists of several cast members whose sole purpose is to come up with little tiny fun additions to random parts of all the parks and resorts. Small little changes that can enhance the entire experience of the area. For example: Big thunder Mountain Railroad. On the other side is Tom Sawyer Island, one of the few remaining attractions in all Disneys around the world with Walt Disney’s personal touch. This island has a fort with guns complete with sound effects. You can actually aim and fire at the Big Thunder ride.
Now, how awesome would it be that every time a child (or adult) fires his/her gun towards Big Thunder, you can hear the gunfire on the other side while riding the train? Even better, what if we can provide a special effect that would include sand or small rocks jumping, signaling that bullets are being fired at you? Now that would make a fun addition, eh? Not only is your train out of control, but you hear gunfire while going through the next major turn. It is a small cheap addition that would make the ride much better, and much crazier.
Now we are getting to my main point, and that is the Streets of America in the Hollywood Studios. What a wasted opportunity this has become. This street’s main attraction is the excellent photo opportunities, and when Mulch, Sweat, and Shears perform. The Hidden Mickey Club would be put in charge to add little tiny things to the area to enhance it. What would I do? Very simple, New Yorkerize it. Sell actual New York merchandise, stuff like “I Love New York,” and some of the popular sports teams. The Yankees and Knicks are among the most popular professional teams in the world, why not give the New York street a little more realism by selling their product? We don’t have to stop there.
Where is the New York music? In my opinion, no man represents old-school (and perhaps even modern-day NYC) like Frank Sinatra. How much better would the streets be if you heard Frank Sinatra songs in the background? I am aware that Chicago and San Fran also exist in this section, but we should all be aware that New York is the largest section by far. To top it off, we can even have a Frank Sinatra look-alike come out and perform and dance and serenade the female guests a few times a day. And at night, the place can come alive with some popular Broadway musical numbers by street performers. Wouldn’t it be cool to see some tap-dancing and singing from musicals such as Mary Poppins, Chicago, West Side Story, and Cats? (Okay, the last one I am exaggerating)
And then, the food. Oh my, where is the New York food? Where are those massive slices of pizza? The massive hot dogs (Herbie’s Drive-In doesn’t count)? The Shish-kabob? It’s borderline-cruelty that we have a sign for New York pizza when it’s just a decoration. I know Pizza Planet is close by, but they barely qualify because it’s small personal pizzas. I am talking about the thick slices of pizza we all have heard about. There is indeed a kitchen located behind the pretzel stand (the only street food linked to New York street cuisine) and I am sure they have a space to make pizzas so a place can sell them by the slice. Slice of pizza, Frank Sinatra, and Yankees gear close by—THIS is New York City.
And that is just one example of what the Hidden Mickey Club can pull off. They don’t have to create a new attraction per say, they can add small lovely details to things that already exist. Other examples of places that can benefit from small inexpensive changes: Innoventions, the Ferryboat in Frontierland, Tom Sawyer Island, Club Cool, Tomorrowland Speedway, Journey to Narnia (which should just turn into The Art of Pixar in my opinion), Space Mountain (the new pre-ride stuff doesn’t cut it), Main St. USA, etc.
Bottom Line: Disney can definitely improve, but not by major changes, major additions, and new rides to rival Universal. Sometimes, it’s the little things in life that provide the most improvement. Streets of America was the example I provided because the place is a wasteland when it’s not December. The Hidden Mickey Club can definitely bring something special to the table, as it not only helps the parks, but they can also provide reasons for frequent visitors to pass by lesser-known areas.
Once again, this idea is free.
Oscar Red Carpet Fashion: Best Dressed and Worst
A ritual girl's night commenced last night as the Oscar's 83rd award ceremony was held. Of course the only reason I watch it is for the Red Carpet Fashion...who was the best dressed and who was the worst dressed? Here's my rundown:
Melissa Leo, Winning Supporting Actress for The Fighter, accepted her speach dropping the F Bomb, mirroring her choice in fashion taste as well. As Tim Gunn was interviewing her on the Red Carpet I was at a loss of words for the stiff doily by Marc Bouwer, she had decided as her Big Night Gown!
To end on a happy note, as I am almost never negative on my blog, please enjoy the opening video number to the Oscar's by hosts Anne Hathaway and James Franco. I thought it was quite funny and perfect for the night.
THE BEST DRESSED...
Anne Hathaway did a nice job hosting the Oscars and began the night in a stunning Archival Valentino gown...and standing here with the Emperor himself I'd say its a big YES!
Little Hailee Steinfeld (Supporting Actress Nom) made her Red Carpet debut in a stunning Marchesa gown. And might I say, refreshingly age appropriate, she was the essence of beauty in a lovely styled updo and clean makeup. Bravo!
I loved Scarlet Johannason (as I usually do) in her fitted feminine choices, and this Dolce & Gabbana was no exception!
Oprah was full-figured perfection in her hour glass Zac Posen.
Amy Adams has quickly become my favorite Red Carpet lady. I am already a big fan of navy blue as evening luxe but this L'Wren Scott was to die for and then topped of with $1.3million of Cartier jewels...a girl could do worse!
Jennifer Hudson had my jaw dropped as she strutted the Red Carpet in this Atelier Verasace!
Her new body has definitely been the talk of the town (although I personally feel she has gotten a little too skinny) but in this classic red number it is the perfect nod to the golden age of Hollywood.
AND THE WINNER IS....
BEST DRESSED in my opinion was by far Mila Kunis in this stunning Elie Saab (go figure - he is my fav)!
Modern and interesting yet elegant and refined Mila was a supreme example of red Carpet decadence!
And now for the worst dressed...
Although I have heard mixed reviews about Cate Blanchett's Givenchy gown, I have to say I am not a fan. It has beginnings of things I might like, but the overly boxy beaded embroidery feels like its trying too hard and the empty frame on her chest that just leaves you wanting...of what I'm not sure...I just couldn't wrap my understanding around this one.
As far as styling goes, I must say Gwenyth Paltrow more than disappointed me. First in this streamlined Calvin Klein Collection and then in what could be a nice Michael Kors she seems to have just slipped into her gowns after a day of errands at the mall. Straight, forgotten hair, and an overly tanned, blond mix made me feel like she was channeling Red Carpet Barbie rather than Oscar winning extraordinaire.
AND THE WORST DRESSED WINNER IS...
{All photos thanks to Just Jared}
To end on a happy note, as I am almost never negative on my blog, please enjoy the opening video number to the Oscar's by hosts Anne Hathaway and James Franco. I thought it was quite funny and perfect for the night.
Who was your Best and Worst darlings?
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Ursus, No. 7 - Ursus, the Terror of the Kirghiz (1964)
There are a total of seven more fucking Ursus movies in the franchise. Thankfully, though, I’m only able to see one of ‘em, and in favor of my own sanity it’s getting a desultory write-up below along with the other six…
Part 3, Ursus in the Valley of the Lions (1961) – In another story with absolutely nothing to do with any other Ursus film, this one asserts that Ursus was born of royal blood (in direct contradiction to The Vengeance of Ursus), but lost his kingdom and parents as a baby, to the ruthless tyrant character we just know is there. So he’s risen by lions, because these shoddy filmmakers can’t even parse out that “Ursus” means “bear.” Seriously, that’s just inexcusable!...Oh, and then Ursus goes and gets his vengeance upon reaching adulthood – Vengeance! That’s another thing The Vengeance of Ursus forgot to add! A pox upon these movies!
Not that The Valley of the Lions can even count as a prequel. It’s just a different one, with a baby pre-story. Oh, and Ed Fury is back in the “role” he “originated” in Ursus, which somehow merely dates from earlier that same year – They did four Ursi in its first year (1961)! It’s staggering.
Oh oh oh, and befitting Ed Fury, his new Ursus is more complex than the usual peplum bicep-brain, because that asinine “raised by bloodthirsty lions” thing makes him a naïve discoverer of human society upon entering his own plot.
Part 4, Ursus and the Tartar Invasion (1961) – Did I watch it? No. Do I know anything about it? No. There is no story summary anywhere, even, so one can only presume the inevitable tyrant is a “Tartar,” then things proceed as normal. This sounds a most shoddy work, and its current nonexistence is probably a testament to its barely passable technical achievements.
A new muscle-moron makes himself known: Joe Robinson. Take it as a sign of my own recent “MST3K”-addled existence that I first typed that as “Joel Hodgson.” Actually, I’ve seen this lunk before, because James Bond beat him up in Diamonds Are Forever. He was Peter Franks. He was involved in a diamond smuggling operation for Blofeld and – Oh look, I’m getting distracted!
Part 5, Ursus in the Land of Fire (1963) – Another “Sons of Hercules” episode (they repackaged these movies into an unwatchable and forgotten TV show, to indicate their cumulative qualities), another Ed Fury entry – Could he get no other work?!
Let’s see…Tyrant – check! Ursus challenges him – check! Princess – check! Seductress – check! Ursus bound to a grist mill – check! Honestly, why the hell does a grist mill appear in each one of these?! (I usually don’t mention them.) Probably because an Italian bought a grist mill once, and god damn but these pepla are recycling-happy.
No, not a single thing about Land of Fire sounds interesting or unique.
Part 6, Ursus the Rebel Gladiator (1963) – It’s the plot of Gladiator, only told poorly and starring Dan Vadis. My already nonexistent interest continues to wane.
Part 7, Ursus, the Terror of the Kirghiz (1964) – Now this one, I watched. Steel yourself for an actual consideration. But don’t steel for Steel, for now it’s [spinning the Wheel o’ Musclemen] Reg Park’s turn to essay Ursus.
After viewing, it’s, yeah, it’s just Ursus versus tyrants yet again…but with a twist. (There’s a possibility each of these has such a twis.) For there is also a monster. [Spit take!] What?! Yup, there’s a generic monster rampaging throughout the countryside. Said monster is portrayed by a hairier-than-usual Italian, about as impressive an effect as Torgo in Manos. And because character motivation is not only murky, but flabbergastingly random and baseless, local tyrant King Zara (actor unclear, for all this movie’s sins) somehow blames the monster on Ursus. Why?! Eh, because Ursus is hunting the monster. That’s spurious logic. Basically, it seems the presence of Ursus (or Hercules, or Maciste, or whomever) automatically invites antagonism from local card-carrying villains, who wish said lug dead to no profitable end.
A smart peplum peddler (which pretty much means just Mario Bava) would use this premise to fashion a “Beowulf” story – which pretty much follows the peplum formula to a tee. But with Samson somehow neglecting the Biblical Samson story, Italian filmmakers don’t recognize low-hanging fruit when they see it. So instead The Terror of the Kirghiz becomes a maddeningly cluttered non-narrative about…actually, damned if I know. Assorted expected scenes transpire, each necessary archetypal fulfilled, and yet the connective tissue is not there.
Also, there is this white dog in every goddamned scene, with no ultimate plot utility, almost as though director Antonio Margheriti (1980’s Cannibal Apocalypse) owed the dog a favor.
Now, pepla are bad movies, all of them (excepting Hercules in the Haunted World and also, with some reservations, Hercules and the Captive Women). This is not a bold statement. To call The Terror of the Kirghiz “bad” even within this bulky brotherhood is a telling statement, and one which needs qualification.
Often, a “bad” movie is one with certain cheesy redeeming qualities, a nobly misguided effort with ineffective special effects or other charming deficiencies. Look to the universally loved Plan 9 From Outer Space, or the greater panoply of Godzilla masterpieces. “Bad,” amongst the pepla, is far more dire than that. These are products of a most imprecise nature, filmed with all the technical sophistication of the Zapruder film. These feel, by the mere tinge of their celluloid, like genuine snuff films, spurned things rotting for decades in some Roman’s moldy bric-a-brac cellar. That’s the brownish sheen sported by basically every peplum apart from the first six Herculeseseseses, something I’ve seen so much of now I suspect my eyes are permanently unable to see vibrant colors.
Actually, with technical imprecision come mistakes so unbelievable, you’d never expect it possible for a movie to even make such errors. Ursus, monster and soldiers “fight” (i.e. gesticulate in each other’s proximity) at thoroughly random intervals, in either the same quarter mile of forest trail or this one cave, though there are supposed to be dozens of locations. (The assassins pursue furious Ursus, and it’s Ursus versus spurious usurpers in a circus-seeming fracas.) Though the hateful “monster” is just a guy with pubes glued to his face, its anti-Ursine struggles possess the same ineptitude as most lion fights, though there’s no excuse for it now. I dunno, perhaps cinematographic illegibility was simply the style at the time.
Then Ursus drops out of his own picture for a solid 40 minutes, or so – I timed it, or so. In his faux-Herculean stead, they up and drop in a guy called Ilo (Ettori Manni), though the transition is so awkward I wasn’t even aware Ursus was missing until I realized Ilo is called “Ilo” more often than he is called “Ursus.” Yeah, they seriously cannot keep their characters straight, as new names come and go at random. That Ettori Manni looks exactly like Reg Park doesn’t help, as even confusion-based works like “Comedy of Errors” distinguish their identical twins.
Oh, and though even mighty Ursus couldn’t best the monster (which is the reason for his prolonged absence), Ilo is eventually able to conquer the same beast, even though he’s shown himself to be Ursus’ inferior in every way. No reason for this, it’s just in the script. Adding insult, the “monster” just turns out to be a moronic “Scooby” ploy, as in-story it’s just a man with his curly-twirlies reaffixed. So…Ursus was defeated by a man, which is patently impossible!
“Nino,” Ilo exclaims upon discovering the beast’s identity, and I was all “Who?!?!?!?!” Such reveals ought to be loaded with meaning, and there’s been no character by such an Italianate, name. With a little more research, I discover it’s the actor’s name, which went unnoticed by the entire film crew. How do such errors pass by unnoticed?!
Actually, the longer it goes on, the more Kirghiz becomes unwatchable. And I mean literally unwatchable, not simply inane and sluggish and without point, but where the images on screen seem more like a Stan Brakhage experiment than any sort of narrative motion picture. Whatever type of film these fools were using, it wasn’t really passing through the camera correctly – and no one ever thought to correct this, or reshoot their scenes. So moments of unintentional cinema verité which wouldn’t pass muster in Cannibal Holocaust (what is it with me today and referencing cannibal movies?!) pass by uncommented upon. Leaving only the garbled, drunken American dub to go by much of the time.
But even when the camera does work, the movie increasingly decides to shoot nothing of value. Either we’re in a cave which they opted not to light at all, or the cameraman simply dangles the machine at his side, strolling along as we marvel at the out-of-focus ground. Okay, Kirghiz has to be some sort of Andy Warhol experiential lark, right? This was made by confrontational auteurs wishing to explode our notions of the cinematic medium, right? I mean, there’s no way a traditionalist, someone hoping to make a David Lean-style epic, could commit blunders so egregious.
Oh well, at least this gives me something to talk about. Because when the movie is working to the immeasurably small height of its powers, it’s the same sort of peplum as The Vengeance of Ursus, about which I could say mostly curse words.
Lo and behold, they find even new ways to make Kirghiz the most unwatchable movie I’ve seen since my drunken buddies’ homemade zombie epic (though I don’t think we can blame the Italians for this one):
Oh, the movie did resume, and I did watch the rest of it, while trying instead to illustrate a casino for unrelated reasons, but there are no more observations worth noting. I officially stopped paying attention. Let the Ursus franchise stand (from what I’ve seen) as the lousiest assembly of almost-movies to ever qualify as a “series.”
And then there’s Part 8, 3 Avengers (1964)
Actually, that’s not a real Ursus poster. Seemingly, there is none.
This time, Alan Steel plays Ursus, in the same way he’s also played Hercules, and Maciste, and Samson. For every new peplum franchise I look into, I find the same half dozen strongmen appearing again and again. Hell, it’s one reason (among many) why none of these things is unique. Did they just have a rotation schedule, like in a compound of swinger polygamists? Did they decide Random Peplum #32A was to be an Ursus or a Goliath or a Hercules BEFORE filming, or at some random stage based off of a randomizing element? Up this subgenre’s cumulative anus!
Anyway, what of 3 Avengers’ content (and an explanation for why it’s called 3 Avengers, without a single titular invocation of “Ursus”)? Well, I find NOTHING about it, even compared to the dearth of info on the rest of this godforsaken franchise. Still, I can safely say it has the exact same plot as them all.
Part 9 – The GREAT CROSSOVER (1964)! Identity still not revealed (except for the RELATED POSTS addition below), but we’re a day away! Come back tomorrow (or whenever you damn well feel like it) to learn everything I can regurgitate about the GREAT CROSSOVER…and also probably some other movie too.
RELATED POSTS
• No. 1 Ursus (1961)
• No. 2 Vengeance of Ursus (1961)
• No. 8 Hercules, Samson, Maciste and Ursus (1964)
Part 3, Ursus in the Valley of the Lions (1961) – In another story with absolutely nothing to do with any other Ursus film, this one asserts that Ursus was born of royal blood (in direct contradiction to The Vengeance of Ursus), but lost his kingdom and parents as a baby, to the ruthless tyrant character we just know is there. So he’s risen by lions, because these shoddy filmmakers can’t even parse out that “Ursus” means “bear.” Seriously, that’s just inexcusable!...Oh, and then Ursus goes and gets his vengeance upon reaching adulthood – Vengeance! That’s another thing The Vengeance of Ursus forgot to add! A pox upon these movies!
Not that The Valley of the Lions can even count as a prequel. It’s just a different one, with a baby pre-story. Oh, and Ed Fury is back in the “role” he “originated” in Ursus, which somehow merely dates from earlier that same year – They did four Ursi in its first year (1961)! It’s staggering.
Oh oh oh, and befitting Ed Fury, his new Ursus is more complex than the usual peplum bicep-brain, because that asinine “raised by bloodthirsty lions” thing makes him a naïve discoverer of human society upon entering his own plot.
Part 4, Ursus and the Tartar Invasion (1961) – Did I watch it? No. Do I know anything about it? No. There is no story summary anywhere, even, so one can only presume the inevitable tyrant is a “Tartar,” then things proceed as normal. This sounds a most shoddy work, and its current nonexistence is probably a testament to its barely passable technical achievements.
A new muscle-moron makes himself known: Joe Robinson. Take it as a sign of my own recent “MST3K”-addled existence that I first typed that as “Joel Hodgson.” Actually, I’ve seen this lunk before, because James Bond beat him up in Diamonds Are Forever. He was Peter Franks. He was involved in a diamond smuggling operation for Blofeld and – Oh look, I’m getting distracted!
Part 5, Ursus in the Land of Fire (1963) – Another “Sons of Hercules” episode (they repackaged these movies into an unwatchable and forgotten TV show, to indicate their cumulative qualities), another Ed Fury entry – Could he get no other work?!
Let’s see…Tyrant – check! Ursus challenges him – check! Princess – check! Seductress – check! Ursus bound to a grist mill – check! Honestly, why the hell does a grist mill appear in each one of these?! (I usually don’t mention them.) Probably because an Italian bought a grist mill once, and god damn but these pepla are recycling-happy.
No, not a single thing about Land of Fire sounds interesting or unique.
Part 6, Ursus the Rebel Gladiator (1963) – It’s the plot of Gladiator, only told poorly and starring Dan Vadis. My already nonexistent interest continues to wane.
Part 7, Ursus, the Terror of the Kirghiz (1964) – Now this one, I watched. Steel yourself for an actual consideration. But don’t steel for Steel, for now it’s [spinning the Wheel o’ Musclemen] Reg Park’s turn to essay Ursus.
After viewing, it’s, yeah, it’s just Ursus versus tyrants yet again…but with a twist. (There’s a possibility each of these has such a twis.) For there is also a monster. [Spit take!] What?! Yup, there’s a generic monster rampaging throughout the countryside. Said monster is portrayed by a hairier-than-usual Italian, about as impressive an effect as Torgo in Manos. And because character motivation is not only murky, but flabbergastingly random and baseless, local tyrant King Zara (actor unclear, for all this movie’s sins) somehow blames the monster on Ursus. Why?! Eh, because Ursus is hunting the monster. That’s spurious logic. Basically, it seems the presence of Ursus (or Hercules, or Maciste, or whomever) automatically invites antagonism from local card-carrying villains, who wish said lug dead to no profitable end.
A smart peplum peddler (which pretty much means just Mario Bava) would use this premise to fashion a “Beowulf” story – which pretty much follows the peplum formula to a tee. But with Samson somehow neglecting the Biblical Samson story, Italian filmmakers don’t recognize low-hanging fruit when they see it. So instead The Terror of the Kirghiz becomes a maddeningly cluttered non-narrative about…actually, damned if I know. Assorted expected scenes transpire, each necessary archetypal fulfilled, and yet the connective tissue is not there.
Also, there is this white dog in every goddamned scene, with no ultimate plot utility, almost as though director Antonio Margheriti (1980’s Cannibal Apocalypse) owed the dog a favor.
Now, pepla are bad movies, all of them (excepting Hercules in the Haunted World and also, with some reservations, Hercules and the Captive Women). This is not a bold statement. To call The Terror of the Kirghiz “bad” even within this bulky brotherhood is a telling statement, and one which needs qualification.
Often, a “bad” movie is one with certain cheesy redeeming qualities, a nobly misguided effort with ineffective special effects or other charming deficiencies. Look to the universally loved Plan 9 From Outer Space, or the greater panoply of Godzilla masterpieces. “Bad,” amongst the pepla, is far more dire than that. These are products of a most imprecise nature, filmed with all the technical sophistication of the Zapruder film. These feel, by the mere tinge of their celluloid, like genuine snuff films, spurned things rotting for decades in some Roman’s moldy bric-a-brac cellar. That’s the brownish sheen sported by basically every peplum apart from the first six Herculeseseseses, something I’ve seen so much of now I suspect my eyes are permanently unable to see vibrant colors.
Actually, with technical imprecision come mistakes so unbelievable, you’d never expect it possible for a movie to even make such errors. Ursus, monster and soldiers “fight” (i.e. gesticulate in each other’s proximity) at thoroughly random intervals, in either the same quarter mile of forest trail or this one cave, though there are supposed to be dozens of locations. (The assassins pursue furious Ursus, and it’s Ursus versus spurious usurpers in a circus-seeming fracas.) Though the hateful “monster” is just a guy with pubes glued to his face, its anti-Ursine struggles possess the same ineptitude as most lion fights, though there’s no excuse for it now. I dunno, perhaps cinematographic illegibility was simply the style at the time.
Then Ursus drops out of his own picture for a solid 40 minutes, or so – I timed it, or so. In his faux-Herculean stead, they up and drop in a guy called Ilo (Ettori Manni), though the transition is so awkward I wasn’t even aware Ursus was missing until I realized Ilo is called “Ilo” more often than he is called “Ursus.” Yeah, they seriously cannot keep their characters straight, as new names come and go at random. That Ettori Manni looks exactly like Reg Park doesn’t help, as even confusion-based works like “Comedy of Errors” distinguish their identical twins.
Oh, and though even mighty Ursus couldn’t best the monster (which is the reason for his prolonged absence), Ilo is eventually able to conquer the same beast, even though he’s shown himself to be Ursus’ inferior in every way. No reason for this, it’s just in the script. Adding insult, the “monster” just turns out to be a moronic “Scooby” ploy, as in-story it’s just a man with his curly-twirlies reaffixed. So…Ursus was defeated by a man, which is patently impossible!
“Nino,” Ilo exclaims upon discovering the beast’s identity, and I was all “Who?!?!?!?!” Such reveals ought to be loaded with meaning, and there’s been no character by such an Italianate, name. With a little more research, I discover it’s the actor’s name, which went unnoticed by the entire film crew. How do such errors pass by unnoticed?!
Actually, the longer it goes on, the more Kirghiz becomes unwatchable. And I mean literally unwatchable, not simply inane and sluggish and without point, but where the images on screen seem more like a Stan Brakhage experiment than any sort of narrative motion picture. Whatever type of film these fools were using, it wasn’t really passing through the camera correctly – and no one ever thought to correct this, or reshoot their scenes. So moments of unintentional cinema verité which wouldn’t pass muster in Cannibal Holocaust (what is it with me today and referencing cannibal movies?!) pass by uncommented upon. Leaving only the garbled, drunken American dub to go by much of the time.
But even when the camera does work, the movie increasingly decides to shoot nothing of value. Either we’re in a cave which they opted not to light at all, or the cameraman simply dangles the machine at his side, strolling along as we marvel at the out-of-focus ground. Okay, Kirghiz has to be some sort of Andy Warhol experiential lark, right? This was made by confrontational auteurs wishing to explode our notions of the cinematic medium, right? I mean, there’s no way a traditionalist, someone hoping to make a David Lean-style epic, could commit blunders so egregious.
Oh well, at least this gives me something to talk about. Because when the movie is working to the immeasurably small height of its powers, it’s the same sort of peplum as The Vengeance of Ursus, about which I could say mostly curse words.
Lo and behold, they find even new ways to make Kirghiz the most unwatchable movie I’ve seen since my drunken buddies’ homemade zombie epic (though I don’t think we can blame the Italians for this one):
Oh, the movie did resume, and I did watch the rest of it, while trying instead to illustrate a casino for unrelated reasons, but there are no more observations worth noting. I officially stopped paying attention. Let the Ursus franchise stand (from what I’ve seen) as the lousiest assembly of almost-movies to ever qualify as a “series.”
And then there’s Part 8, 3 Avengers (1964)
Actually, that’s not a real Ursus poster. Seemingly, there is none.
This time, Alan Steel plays Ursus, in the same way he’s also played Hercules, and Maciste, and Samson. For every new peplum franchise I look into, I find the same half dozen strongmen appearing again and again. Hell, it’s one reason (among many) why none of these things is unique. Did they just have a rotation schedule, like in a compound of swinger polygamists? Did they decide Random Peplum #32A was to be an Ursus or a Goliath or a Hercules BEFORE filming, or at some random stage based off of a randomizing element? Up this subgenre’s cumulative anus!
Anyway, what of 3 Avengers’ content (and an explanation for why it’s called 3 Avengers, without a single titular invocation of “Ursus”)? Well, I find NOTHING about it, even compared to the dearth of info on the rest of this godforsaken franchise. Still, I can safely say it has the exact same plot as them all.
Part 9 – The GREAT CROSSOVER (1964)! Identity still not revealed (except for the RELATED POSTS addition below), but we’re a day away! Come back tomorrow (or whenever you damn well feel like it) to learn everything I can regurgitate about the GREAT CROSSOVER…and also probably some other movie too.
RELATED POSTS
• No. 1 Ursus (1961)
• No. 2 Vengeance of Ursus (1961)
• No. 8 Hercules, Samson, Maciste and Ursus (1964)
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