Lifeforce

'Lifeforce' is a mostly enjoyable adaptation of Colin Wilson's classic novel 'Space Vampires'. In it, a space shuttle mission is interrupted by the discovery of a huge, seemingly abandoned space craft of alien origin. When the crew board the hulk, they discover hundreds of dead space bats and three naked humanoids in a state of suspended animation. Their genitals are thoughtfully obscured but the sole female (Mathilda May) is very beautiful indeed and has perfect breasts, and we are allowed full sight of these, which is a fatal mistake as they become pretty much all we can see and, when they disappear about forty five minutes in, all we can think about is when we will see them again. Indeed, if I close my eyes I can see them now *closes eyes*

As it goes on, the film becomes less interesting and slightly chaotic, especially in the semi-hysterical finale in which vampirism  has infected London and is driving people to barbaric acts of public unrest, and our uninspiring American hero (Steve Railsback) has to strip off and kiss the sexy naked vampire lady a lot in order purely to get her into a position where he can stab her with a special anti gorgeous bloodsucker sword, killing her, saving the world, but sacrificing himself. Good, the man's an idiot.

There are some excellent actors in the cast (Jerome Willis, Frank Finlay, Patrick Stewart, the superb Aubrey Morris), although Peter Firth is miscast as a tough SAS officer. There was also clearly some money spent on the production, and the special effects are generally very good if rather derivative of both 'Alien' and 'Raiders Of The Lost Ark'. There's even a promising plot line about the vampires having visited Earth on a cyclical basis for centuries but this doesn't really develop into anything interesting. Ultimately, however, all of those positive points are totally irrelevant in the scheme of things: this film is all about the ancient space vampire's stupendously attractive chest and the rest, a mysterious celestial body well worth getting bitten on the neck for.

Thinking about it, perhaps not the best film to come back with. I don't want you thinking I've had some sort of breakdown and am now obsessed with knockers, especially as a couple of next week's posts are about Linda Hayden.

Some Extra-terrestrials Aren't Friendly

Criticising ’Xtro’ for not being very cohesive is a bit like having a go at a bacon sandwich for not being kosher. In fact, the film barely registers as a narrative at all, instead operating as a surreal kaleidoscope of disturbing imagery and body horror, punctuated by death and decay and pulsating bags of offal.  Frame for frame, it’s one of the most startling British films ever made, and one of the nastiest.

Mainly about a rather understaffed alien invasion, it also operates as something of a domestic drama, and is remarkably well acted for something with such an obviously low budget. In fact, ‘Xtro’ may be cheap, but it does lots of things very well, especially in terms of make-up and effects, which are actually very good. Its intentions, however, are pure exploitation, so it’s also sleazy and tacky – and hugely entertaining.  

So, if you’ve ever wanted to see a malevolent dwarf doing mind magic, watch a  woman give birth to a full grown man, or see an Action Man come to life and bayonet Lou Beale from ‘Eastenders’ to death, then ‘Xtro’ is definitely the film for you. If, on the other hand, you faint at the thought of raw mince, I’d give it a pretty wide berth.

Xtro

 

Agonizing Horror

‘The Trollenberg Terror’ (aka ‘The Crawling Eye’ in territories where they want it all spelling out for them) is a tight, cheap little film adapted from an ITV presentation which, presumably, was even tighter and cheaper and littler.

It doesn’t sound much, but I’ve always found it extremely entertaining and occasionally pretty dark, with several nasty beheadings and some weird alien mind control shit that turns perfectly nice people psycho. Much of the violence is directed towards a poor young woman who, unfortunately for her, has mediumistic qualities. The aliens hate this because she’s onto them and their dirty schemes, so strive to get her knocked off at every available opportunity, the cheeky, slimy baskets.

It all ends in a big bonfire and the aliens learn, as so many do, that humans may not be able to fly around the universe causing problems but, by Christ, they can certainly KILL. The climax is often mocked for its extensive use of models and stop-motion camera work but, unsophisticated as it is, it works in the context of the film, so don’t sneer at them, smart-arse, that’s like having a go at Vasco Da Gama for not using a sat-nav, i.e. wrong.

The Trollenberg Terror

Liberators

Up until a few weeks ago, I hadn’t watched an episode of ‘Blakes 7’ since the original show came to its controversial close in 1981. Over the years, despite once being a fan, I had mentally packed it away under ‘rubbish’ and put it into brain storage. Prompted by my friend and colleague Fearlono’s constant texting about various elements of the programme, however, I decided to revisit it. I believe they call that ‘peer group pressure’. 

I’m not going to pretend that it’s the greatest programme I’ve ever seen, but I have to admit that I was wrong - in fact, it’s dark and sombre and serious - proper dystopic sci fi space opera – and all set in a depressingly squalid future.

Blake may be an idealist (although he is prepared to put others at risk for his beliefs), but the rest of his crew are, by and large, scumbags. Villa is a thief, Jenna a smuggler, Avon a borderline psycho with a Messiah complex. Only Gan (my favourite as a child) has an excuse for his criminal record – he killed the man who murdered his ‘woman’ – and suffered an experimental brain implant that limits his capacity for violence as a result. Basically, they are lawless fugitives but, because Blake has principles, they occasionally blow something up or jam a Federation signal and, subsequently, have created the legend that they are freedom fighters, a desperately needed commodity in an appallingly restricted world.

Under the jackboot of The Federation (or the high heel of Servalan, if you like, and a lot of people do), the entire universe has been turned into a machine to serve the evil empire – a grey, dirty conglomeration of factories and refineries, scrappy colonies and half-abandoned research stations on barren, unforgiving planets. Half of the people are slaves, the other half fascists and quislings. So called ‘inferior’ races labour away in mines until malnutrition or radiation poison kills them. It’s depressing as hell, not a hint of glitter or brave new world. Resistance is met with death (the series opens with a massacre) or torture and disgrace (they frame Blake for child molestation in order to destroy his reputation). If you’re lucky, you get your brain wiped and get to start again.

This is the real future of humanity: living on a slag heap, working like dogs, kept in check by a ruthless, faceless police force and crappy robots, scrabbling around trying to survive for no other reason than instinct. It all seems completely pointless. There is literally no-one in this world who enjoys life or living. Power must be its own reward because, apart from an increasingly outlandish array of white outfits, even supreme commander Servalan seems to simply rattle between space stations and quarries, endlessly tramping around in high heels and being menacing without ever actually getting anywhere. It’s a chilling and, I think, pretty accurate picture of what things will be like in 700 years: shit. The only thing the show does get slightly wrong is that everywhere seems semi-inhabited rather than teeming with over-population, but perhaps there was a plague or something equally catastrophic. It wouldn’t surprise me, it feels like the End Of Days now.

So, ‘Blakes 7’ – not rubbish, not rubbish at all.

Blake's 7

Coming to an Island near you soon!

Random Quest

‘Quest For Love’ starts off in a blur of 1971 type activity, all polo necks, suede jackets, casual racism and sexism and Denholm Elliot wearing a massive lopsided suit jacket to convince us he only has one arm. In a matter of minutes, bony physicist Tom Bell has had a mishap in the lab and been transported to a parallel timeline. It’s 1971 here, too, but little things are different: the economy is booming because World War Two never happened, Denholm Elliot has two arms, and Tom is a best selling author who is unhappily married to Joan Collins.

Of course, Tom is still a bony physicist in his own head, he has just apparently swapped places with an alternate self who is, presumably, out in the other 1971 fucking experiments up. Our Tom realises several things about the man he is supposed to be, not least the fact that he is a vain, selfish dickhead who treats his wife like rubbish. Our Tom loves her, however, and spends most of his time trying to convince her he is different. As soon as he does, and they fall in love, she dies, and the trauma projects him back to his own timeline. Realising that there must be a Joan equivalent in this 1971 as well, perhaps with the same heart complaint the other Joan had, he tries desperately to find her and save her - and get off with her – the quest for love of the title (although this bit only lasts about ten minutes).

If you forget all the quantum stuff and Denholm Elliot’s big, skewiff jacket, ‘Quest For Love’ is an entertaining film that reminds me a little of some of the more outré US soap operas (the ones with evil twins and flashbacks within flashbacks within comas). It’s particularly good in making two of the most unsympathetic leads of all time seem almost lovable: Tom Bell, who despite slightly resembling my Dad, is usually a sinister, sardonic presence and Joan Collins who is undeniably very attractive in physical terms, but always seems like a MASSIVE pain in the arse in almost every other respect.

A surprisingly commercial mix of sci fi and love story, ‘Quest For Love’ was based on a John Wyndham story called ‘Random Quest’, and was a non-portmanteau product of the wonderful Amicus studios. Watch it, you’ll enjoy it. 

Quest For Love