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Welcome to the Archive. Following the infamous “Format Wars” (R.I.P. VHS), a multitude of films found themselves in danger of being forgotten forever due to their admittedly niche appeal. Thankfully, Warner Bros. established the Archive Collection, a Disc On Demand and Streaming service devoted to some of the more idiosyncratic pieces of cinema ever made. Being big fans of the label, we here at Cinapse thought it prudent to establish a column devoted to these unusual gems. Thus “The Archivist” was born — a biweekly look at some of the best, boldest and most batshit motion pictures the Shield has to offer. Some of these will be recent additions to the collection, while others will be titles that have been available for awhile. With over 1,500 pictures procurable on Warner Archive (and more being added every month), there’s no possible way we’ll get to all of them. But trust me when we say we’re sure going to try.

Archiviteers, I have to begin this week’s installment with a confession. Originally, the plan was to recommend a double-feature covering Being Human and The World According To Garp. Well, for your information, the latter title is no longer available from The Warner Archives. Sad news, I know. After several lengthy sojourns through Warner’s lovely pit of cinematic resurrection, I couldn’t seem to find anything that quite sounded like the perfect match for Being Human. Obviously, the whole point was to select two films featuring performances by the late Robin Williams, but in a pinch, I couldn’t help but notice the noble comedic tribute Brain Donors was being preserved in The Archives. That film just happens to have John Turturro, and absolutely nothing else, in common with that Williams film for which I so badly needed a companion piece. So, without further disclaiming, let me tell you about a movie that barely has John Turturro in it, and another that has almost too much of him.

I am still reeling from the death of Robin Williams. I hadn’t been very interested in his most recent work, so seeing a lost film from earlier in his illustrious career is a true joy. Being Human cuts five slices of life from human history which allow us to watch one deeply flawed man find his way through the loss and reunion of his family, among other things. We meet Hector (Williams) as a homo sapien cave dweller, then he is a slave in Rome (to his master, John Turturro), then a Scottish servant to a priest in the crusades, a shipwrecked Portuguese Renaissance-era nobleman, and finally, a modern day business man who has estranged himself from his kids. He is cowardly, selfish, and can rarely manage to do the right thing.

The performances are excellent all around from a cast including Vincent D’Onofrio, Robert Carlyle, Theresa Russell, Bill Nighy, William H. Macy, and Lorraine Bracco. These actors do as much for some notable authenticity in each era as the set design and costuming. Each episode creates a surprisingly rich atmosphere to explore, accompanying the increasingly intriguing and often funny adventures of Hector. That’s a fine achievement, but the film itself is not. Apparently director Bill Forsythe lost control of the expensive production, and Warner Brothers’ oversight is responsible for a hacky, on-the-nose narration read by Theresa Russell over the soundtrack, as well as the enforcement of a happy ending. Let me be clear, this is no turd, but the “improvements” resulting from studio interference do great damage to a film which would otherwise have been a fascinating, deliberately paced experience. There is some pay-off in the end, as we realize the life story Williams’ character details to his children parallels that of the five different Hectors throughout history. That’s a lovely revelation, considering the first couple of episodes seemed, at first, nearly pointless. This one is definitely flawed, but I won’t be calling up the universe to demand my time be reimbursed.

And now for something completely different…

Here is it folks, the John Turturro part of the supposed John Turturro double feature. David and Jerry Zucker (some of the Airpane! and Naked Gun guys) took on a rather intimidating challenge when they produced a film working under the title Lame Ducks. The Zuckers, writer Pat Proft (who wrote basically every non-Mel Brooks parody movie), and director Dennis Dugan (oh god… google the guy’s filmography for yourself) came together, and despite studio interference from Paramount, managed to create a pretty damn solid update of The Marx Brothers’ A Night at the Opera. Turturro (in the Groucho role), Mel Smith (Chico), and Bob Nelson (Harpo) do some extraordinary work as facsimiles of the comedy legends. Nelson is especially wonderful as Jacques, a not entirely mute but fully loveable stand-in for Harpo. His timing is phenomenal, and his dedication to the role really shines while juggling the enormous prop arsenal the silent Marx Brother so often plucked from the infinite. They may not be perfect impressions, but if any trio of actors could give The Marx Brothers a run for their money, then what the hell would be so special about The Marx Brothers?

As one would expect from the Zuckers, Brain Donors (a title selected by the studio) boasts a bombastic whirlwind of jokes from minute one. Most of them land gloriously, but this is not a perfect comedy. One or two jokes will hit the ground and roll near the target, while others will soar so far into the distance, it’s hard to know where they were aiming. The more I think about it, however, the more I realize how nit-picky that seems in retrospect. I had a great time watching this movie. My girlfriend would walk into the room from time to time, paying no attention to the screen, laugh at a joke she heard, and stick around to see what would happen next. It’s a lot of fun, especially for those of us who grew up watching classic comedians like The Three Stooges or Laurel and Hardy. Seek this thing out!

Welcome to the Archive. Following the infamous “Format Wars” (R.I.P. VHS), a multitude of films found themselves in danger of being forgotten forever due to their admittedly niche appeal. Thankfully, Warner Bros. established the Archive Collection, a Disc On Demand and Streaming service devoted to some of the more idiosyncratic pieces of cinema ever made. Being big fans of the label, we here at Cinapse thought it prudent to establish a column devoted to these unusual gems. Thus “The Archivist” was born — a biweekly look at some of the best, boldest and most batshit motion pictures the Shield has to offer. Some of these will be recent additions to the collection, while others will be titles that have been available for awhile. With over 1,500 pictures procurable on Warner Archive (and more being added every month), there’s no possible way we’ll get to all of them. But trust me when we say we’re sure going to try.

Welcome back, you sexy astronomers! It’s time to venture (far) out into the final frontier with a couple low-budget science fiction pseudo-classics in this installment of The Archivist! B-movie maestro, Antonio Margheriti (Anthony M. Dawson on American screens) made a most insane stateside cinematic invasion with two back-to-back campy romps featuring the adventures of Commander Mike Halstead. He and his scrappy team of officers defend The 1960s Of The Future against whacky conquerors from within and without.

A scientist attempts to create a “perfect” race of human hybrids by any means necessary.

It is a rule too often observed that older films couldn’t live up to their vibrant and enticing poster artwork. Wild, Wild Planet isn’t quite an exception to that rule, but it comes awfully close. The poster boasts a wealth of action that, from the opening credits, we can tell couldn’t possibly be delivered by its modest production values. That being said, that measly budget does provide a lot of colorful whimsy, charm, and laughs. Amongst the endless library of B pictures from the classical era, this is in that much smaller category of goofy films completely worth your time. Sometimes, you just want to watch something that will make you smile.

I found myself grinning ear to ear for nearly every second of this lively and ambitious little movie. I have seen plenty of Italian genre films before this, so I was prepared for sub-standard ADR. But nothing could have prepared me for the screenwriters’ apparently sub-standard acquaintance with the English language. One of the film’s greatest joys materializes in the form of dialogue that just isn’t… right. After only a few minutes of conversation between some chief cast members, I tried to remember if I had hit my head or something. It’s not complete nonsense, and there are a few moments of genuinely witty exchange, but about every five minutes, somebody says something that is just a couple steps to the left of correct. Be prepared to be audibly asking the empty darkness in which you view the film, “What the hell?”

Many aspects of the film will inspire such a question, but the material that does make sense should carry you through the confusion. The special effects are, indeed, strung together on the lowest of budgets (think Thunderbirds), but are coherent, and often surprisingly effective! The film ends with a giant underground bunker flooding with about one million gallons of blood (yeah, it hella-goes-there), and somehow watching a bunch of miniature sets populated with stiff doll stand-ins be destroyed by slow-motion kool-aid really grossed me out. Between its adorable effects work, a couple sincerely kick ass fight scenes, and one of the earliest performances from Franco Nero, this movie makes for some supremely nerdy fun.

A gas-like alien species threatens to possess the entire human population for nefarious purposes.

War Of The Planets, (maybe shot at the same time as its predecessor — they were released the same year and look exactly the same) is a shockingly different film. The light and swinging vibe found in the previous picture has been abandoned, and the result is a film with the same cheap quality, that desperately tries to hold up a spare plot, with a darker tone and no dramatic propulsion.

Although I have to admit the work on both of these films largely demonstrate poor filmmaking, some credit is due for crafty shooting and editing. Many scenes would easily provide thrills if only we could possibly take the movie seriously enough to invest in its characters. Quick cuts, intense close-ups, and disturbing soundscapes do all they can, but by the time the movie is ready to make us jump or scream or feel for a character in trouble, it has already unintentionally caused us to laugh too many times to respond to its sudden visceral evocations.

For the most part, however, both films make for interesting viewing. Just as I can understand why Warner Brothers sees these works fit for preservation, I see how Margheriti developed a reputation for “working wonders” on a barely-there budget. I would like to know just how little money he had. He created rather detailed worlds with a willing and energetic cast, and showed this steadfast cinephile a handful of things he had never seen before. That’s got to count for something, right?

So laser blast an ice-cold juice capsule, and orbit a bowl of popcorn. It’s double-feature time!

Welcome to the Archive. Following the infamous “Format Wars” (R.I.P. VHS), a multitude of films found themselves in danger of being forgotten forever due to their admittedly niche appeal. Thankfully, Warner Bros. established the Archive Collection, a Disc On Demand and Streaming service devoted to some of the more idiosyncratic pieces of cinema ever made. Being big fans of the label, we here at Cinapse thought it prudent to establish a column devoted to these unusual gems. Thus “The Archivist” was born — a biweekly look at some of the best, boldest and most batshit motion pictures the Shield has to offer. Some of these will be recent additions to the collection, while others will be titles that have been available for awhile. With over 1,500 pictures procurable on Warner Archive (and more being added every month), there’s no possible way we’ll get to all of them. But trust me when we say we’re sure going to try.

Come as you are: Neanderthals, Cro-Magnons, Ape-People, and People-People! All are welcome here, at The Archivist! Maybe you’re having trouble finding your place? Maybe you’re experiencing an identity crisis? Valentine’s Day has come and gone. Maybe you’re looking for love in all the wrong places? Maybe your most promising suitor’s head was torn off by a famous bear? If you are experiencing any of the above, this week’s edition of cinematic spelunking was hand-selected just for you!

When I chose The Clan of the Cave Bear and Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes, I had no idea what perfect companion pieces they would make. They both covered the subject of fitting into unfamiliar societies, and they both had seemingly endless titles. That’s really all I knew. What a surprise when it turned out they could hardly be more fascinating when they were viewed in the same evening!

The Clan…OTCB stars the quite talented Daryl Hannah as Ayla, a Cro-Magnon (the species of humanoid ancestors from which most of us evolved) who, at a very young age, is half-dead and alone after losing her mother in one hell of an earthquake. A tribe of Neanderthals happens upon her, and although their leaders are reluctant, a loving couple is allowed to adopt her. Ayla must now find her place in this world of less evolved and brutally stubborn people.

The movie plays, unintentionally (?), like a socio-political allegory. At every turn, Ayla is beaten physically and emotionally by the more superstitious and xenophobic members of her new tribe. As it turns out, what became of the Neanderthal is no mystery at all. Most of them survived and became conservative legislators. Women have an oppressively small role in their society. Outsiders are feared, and Ayla’s very existence will apparently anger their gods. She really pisses them off when she reveals her unmatched skills with weaponry while saving the life of a child. Several moments like that one had me thinking this might be a great female empowerment film, or maybe even a fine feminist piece, but the movie is staunchly determined to conclude that these people absolutely cannot coexist.

This is a thoroughly intriguing film that just can’t help but trip over its own goofiness. The Neanderthal make-up, though nominated for an academy award, hasn’t aged well, and is hard to take seriously at first. The score, by the great Alan Silvestri, also falls surprisingly short, as its synth sounds awkwardly bump heads with lovely prehistoric images. I have to say, this is never-the-less a film you have to track down just so you can be in awe of how daring it is. To make a movie in 1985 with sparse dialogue mostly consisting of vague hand-gestures translated in subtitles is one thing, but to use that entirely fictional language to tell a story about a time so many religious people reject (even today) is entirely another. Plus, it was one of Bart The Bear’s (The Edge, The Great Outdoors) first movies. You go, Warner Brothers!

Now, from goofy, to crazy. Greystoke: TLOT, LOFTA delivers (or so it claims) the most faithful adaptation of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ novel Tarzan of the Apes. That is apparently dubious, but it does tell an incredible version of the often-filmed tale. John Clayton (played by Christopher Lambert, who is never once referred to as “Tarzan”) is the son of a marooned couple who die not long after his birth. He is adopted by a female gorilla and spends many naked years desperately trying to find himself among his animal family until a party of British zoologists discovers him. By that time, he has become a man, now way less naked than before (maybe Lambert had a no-nude contract), and is the “lord” of his tribe of gorillas. He agrees to leave the only world he has known, and he and Ian Holm return to England to live at the Greystoke Estate with his only remaining relative, his grandfather (played by Sir Ralph Richardson in his final role). There, his identity crisis only worsens, particularly after falling in love with a human woman (Andie MacDowell). Despite a lot of visual splendor (including astonishing make-up effects by the great Rick Baker), and excellent performances, this movie is a crazy mess, and that can mostly be attributed to the shenanigans going on behind the scenes.

The screenplay was written by Robert Towne! Chinatown Robert Towne! Script doctor of Bonnie and Clyde and The Godfather Robert Towne! Too bad he was fired before he could direct Greystoke. Apparently the commercial failure of his most recently written and directed film Personal Best lost him the job. He retaliated in officially replacing his name with that of his dog. That’s right. Robert Towne’s dog received whole credit for writing this script. With all that slobber on the pages, rewrites must have been a bitch. Strike one.

The film was placed in the capable hands of Hugh Hudson (Chariots of Fire), who apparently wasn’t big on restraint when he took over the project. As I mentioned before, Rick Baker’s ape suits are jaw-droppingly detailed and they found some convincing players to fill them, but do we really need to see a mother carrying around a dead ape baby like broken toy? Do we need to see the same mother’s teat dripping with milk while she tries to feed that dead offspring? These harsh realities would be worth showing if they were treated with some delicacy, but the images are thrown at us with the same carelessness this mother gives her dead ape after she finds young John Clayton. Strike two.

Fortunately, there isn’t a strike three (although Andie McDowell’s every line being ADR’d by Glenn Close is pretty weird). This movie might have problems so big as to force the viewer to laugh unintentionally, but it is so full of gorgeous shots, strong acting, fascinating ideas, and bizarre moments, you just can’t stop watching it. I was especially pleased with the film’s lead. Believe it or not, a few years before he was a snickering Scottish guy with a samurai sword, and several more years before he was a snickering guy with lightning coming out of his eyes, Christopher Lambert was a promising young actor. He seems to be in another, better organized drama. He still snickers a couple times, but I think his performance could have been something really special in a movie that didn’t wind up with such an indifferent anti-climax after a long trek through a lot of strangeness.

I could go on, but then again, so could you…like…with that whole “life” thing you have.

Another pair of must-see films from the depths of Hollywood’s historical jungle, and you can practically only get them from one place: The Warner Archives!

Now find fit yourself into a society of popcorn and beer! It’s

Welcome to the Archive. Following the infamous “Format Wars” (R.I.P. VHS), a multitude of films found themselves in danger of being forgotten forever due to their admittedly niche appeal. Thankfully, Warner Bros. established the Archive Collection, a Disc On Demand and Streaming service devoted to some of the more idiosyncratic pieces of cinema ever made. Being big fans of the label, we here at Cinapse thought it prudent to establish a column devoted to these unusual gems. Thus “The Archivist” was born — a biweekly look at some of the best, boldest and most batshit motion pictures the Shield has to offer. Some of these will be recent additions to the collection, while others will be titles that have been available for awhile. With over 1,500 pictures procurable on Warner Archive (and more being added every month), there’s no possible way we’ll get to all of them. But trust me when we say we’re sure going to try.

Welcome, new and returning friends, to The Archivist! I spent my time off during our last episode (a very special thanks to Austin Vashaw for gallantly taking the reins — do be sure to go back and read that if you haven’t already) to dig up a few forgotten treasures.

Now that it appears I will have to lose my overwhelming respect for Bill Cosby, I can still luxuriate in the yet untarnished body of hilarious work by the great Steve Martin. If you haven’t seen these flicks, do yourself a favor and correct that unfortunate business.

The Man With Two Brains [1983] Dir. Carl Reiner

I can’t fully wrap my head around how this movie could possibly not be considered an absurdist classic. This beast is more consistently funny (and by “consistently”, I mean it is never not funny) than half of Mel Brooks’ catalogue. As a slight send-up of old B Sci-fi movies, that’s an easy comparison, but The Man With Two Brains has more in common with the work of Leslie Nielsen or Zucker, Abrahams and Zucker. This is a send-up of everything. I was worried, after wiping tears away within the first ten minutes, that the movie was simply front-loaded with the great stuff, and would soon fizzle off into the same opacity as its own legacy. Not so. Like The Naked Gun, or Airplane, if you so much as sneeze while watching, you missed another great joke, and that much is true for the entire length of the film.

Somehow, in the midst of this totally bonkers script, giving even the Monty Python boys a run for their money, Steve Martin, Carl Reiner, and George Gipe managed to craft a story with propulsion. It doesn’t rest on its thousands of jokes sewn into every line of dialogue. Instead, it gingerly guides every nutty gag through a structured plot, with legitimate motivations for its central characters, and I was surprised to be sitting there, still laughing about a joke from five minutes ago, excited to see how it would all end.

The film even boasts a fantastic cast of actors who were never funnier. Kathleen Turner plays a comically incautious femme fatale. The great David Warner (the TGRI scientist from Secret of the Ooze) is effortlessly funny, playing a scientist, of course. James Cromwell shows up for about three seconds and gets a laugh, and I wouldn’t dare spoil whom, but an old television icon has a truly hilarious cameo in a scene near the end.

It’s really a shame no one preaches the good word on this one. Buy it. Watch it on repeat. Tell everyone how funny it is.

My Blue Heaven [1990], Dir. Herbert Ross

I can’t say I was quite so enthusiastic while watching My Blue Heaven.

This here, is a damn interesting piece of work. Released one month prior to Goodfellas, this comedy is based on the same biography as Scorsese’s beloved drama, and can, in many ways, be considered an unofficial sequel to its far more successful successor. There is a lot of good going on in the movie, but it’s all just a little too much to swallow.

The script, written by the late Nora Ephron (Yeah… just say that one time out loud: Nora Ephron wrote the sequel to Goodfellas), is overflowing with sweetness, humor and magnetism. We would expect at least that much from the woman responsible for every decent romantic comedy ever made. It’s cute! I have no problem admitting it is adorable, but having seen Scorsese’s classic many times, knowing Ray Liotta’s character so well, I can’t help but get a little uncomfortable watching Steve Martin’s rendition.

The whole thing takes place before Henry Hill (called Vincent Antonelli, here) finished testifying against his former partners in crime, but right after he is has been placed in witness protection. Martin is in full stereotypical Italian swagger. He has the flashy hair, he has the flashy-er suit, and he strolls around his new middle-of-nowhere suburban surroundings saying “Fuhget aboud-it!” and such. You know… like a sketch comedian would. As much as I would like to be won-over by his wiseguy wiles, it is hard to watch all of these whacky farcical antics in the context of the disturbing barbarism I know came before his time under protective custody. It’s the kind of thing you have to see, just so you can know what you thought of it. Fortunately for you, whoever you are, you will also probably enjoy your time finding out.

Just like in The Man With Two Brains, My Blue Heaven also boasts an excellent cast doing some good work. Joan Cusack plays a lost and lonely District Attorney. A variety of familiar character actors appear as Vincent’s old friends who are now in the protection program, and Rick Moranis gives an excellent performance as (for the first time? The only time?) a regular guy. As the FBI agent assigned to keep Vicent in line until his court appearances, we don’t get the normal Moranis shtick. No super-nerdy stupidity, not that I have a problem with that, but it is truly refreshing to see him play an intelligent, human character. He wears the role rather well.

There you have it: an exciting pair of lost comedies starring some of everyone’s favorite people.

It’s double feature time!