The Midwich Cuckoos: Village of the Damned, on Sundance Now

Most people still sufficiently value their individuality enough to be terrified by the notion of a hive-mind, or at least we can so hope. Weirdly, the town of Midwich gave birth to a hive-mind, when more than a dozen women fell pregnant under highly unusual circumstances. The kids are not alright and the adults are nervous (at least they should be) in creator-writer David Farr’s The Midwich Cuckoos: Village of the Damned, which premieres Thursday on Sundance Now.

John Wyndham’s novel The Midwich Cuckoos was twice adapted as Village of the Damned, so for American audiences they combined both titles, presumably to avoid confusion. Arguably, this might be helpful, because unlike previous adaptations, this Midwich Cuckoos does not look so much like Village of the Damned.

While family counselor Dr. Susannah Zellaby was in London, an uncanny blackout hit the small town of Midwich. Everyone inside the city limits passed out unconscious, even investigating authorities who entered wearing gasmasks. A few months later, every woman of child-bearing age finds themselves unexpectedly pregnant. Not surprisingly, this causes great distress in many households, until the authorities reveal the big picture.

The national government sweeps in to manage the situation, but Home Office rep Bryony Cummings is surprised every mother decides to keep their bundles of joy. The Midwich mothers grow close to each other, not that they have much choice. The government essentially confines them to Midwich, in exchange for footing all their bills. They also sponsor Dr. Zellaby’s group therapy sessions, which usually also include her own grown but not yet mature daughter, Cassie Stone.

The quickly developing children are intense, but most of the Midwich parents try to kid themselves into thinking they are still healthy and loving youngsters. However, Zoe Moran sours on her Midwich daughter, Hannah, after she uses her Midwichy mind-control to force her Midwich mom to injure herself. Unfortunately, neither Dr. Zellaby nor her domestic partner, Sam Clyde are ready to listen to her yet—but presumably he will soon, judging from the in media res prologue.

The trio of directors, Alice Troughton, Jennifer Perrott, and Borkur Sigborsson, do a nice job building tension, but they were undermined Farr’s terrible aesthetic decisions. Both the classic 1960 film and John Carpenter’s remake of Village of the Damned, get tremendous visual mileage from the eerily similar look of the Midwich children. However, they no longer have the same creepy blond pageboy cut, boys and girls alike. They still share the same cold, distant demeanor, but they now check all the required diversity boxes.

Somehow, Farr completely missed the point that the uniformity of the Midwich children makes them unsettling. They actually illustrate the notion that a lack of diversity is profoundly unhealthy, both in terms of physical characteristics and diversity of thought. In both films, the mere sight of the nearly identical children is enough to jangle viewers’ nerves. Farr denied the series directors that visual shortcut, forcing them to start fresh with each scene.

Martin’s Close, on PBS

Judge George Jeffreys was the Roy Bean of the Stuart Era. The hanging judge probably made his share of ghosts if you believe in that sort of thing. However, a haunting allegedly plays a role in a case the old witch-finder presides over in Mark Gatiss’s Martin’s Close, based on another M.R. James short story, which airs this month on participating PBS stations.

Frankly, an elitist squire like John Martin never really believed the law applied to him, but it most definitely does when Judge Jeffreys presides. He might be over-zealous, but the ancient jurist is incorruptible. Nevertheless, this case will be unconventional.

Martin stands accused of murdering Ann Clark, a “simple” village girl, whom the squire “trifled” with, for his own ironic amusement. Tragically, when her clinginess grew inconvenient, he somehow disposed of her, permanently. However, according to witnesses called by Dolben, the King’s Counsel, Clark’s ghost returned to implicate her murderer.

In terms of fairness, this might be one of Judge Jeffreys’ best trials. However, from a modern legal perspective, much of the proceedings with be highly questionable. It also rather prompts an odd question. If the accused did indeed murder someone, but they return as a ghost, should the resulting sentence be reduced, since the victim is not completely gone?

One thing is certain, nobody would want to be prosecuted by anyone who resembles Peter Capaldi. In this adaptation, four or five characters receive roughly equal screen-time, but Capaldi is just as magnetically watchable as ever portraying crafty Dolben. Elliot Levey is rather pompous, in an aptly judgy kind of way as sour old Jeffreys.

Bad Genius, an Unnecessary Remake

In the movies, the have’s are always stupid and lazy, whereas the have-not’s are always smart and virtuous. In real life, there are plenty of intelligent wealthy people and creepy working-class morons, but they make poor fodder for class warfare propaganda.  You will not find any such inconvenient characters in this unnecessary remake of a vastly superior Thai film. Two scholarship kids still have one advantage—a knack for taking standardized tests—that they do their best to fraudulently monetize in Bad Genius, directed by J.C. Lee, which is now in theaters and on digital.

Lynn Kang has a real shot at getting into either MIT or Julliard, but she and her father Meng disagree regarding which she should apply to. Regardless, her upper-crust classmate Grace Simon quickly realizes Kang’s brain could help her too. Despite some reservations, Kang develops a method of signaling test answers to Simon’s clique, for a fee, of course. She makes good money until the dumb old adults notice suspicious patterns.

Unfortunately, Kang loses her scholarship, but not her ambition. Needing money for Julliard auditions, Kang agrees to a grand scheme in which she takes the SAT in a crummy, poorly maintained Philly high school, where she will secretly text her memorized answers back to her exploitive “friends” in suburban Seattle—but she can’t do it alone. Of course, the only classmate smart enough to help her is the painfully sensitive Bank Adedamola, the son of African immigrants (so much for all those bogus complaints about standardized tests being culturally biased).

The emphasis on Adedamola’s immigrant identity is an example of how Lee’s adaptation of Nattawut Poonpiriya’s like-titled Bad Genius, a briskly-paced teen caper, evolved into such a downbeat, politicized buzzkill. The original Thai film has a smart and entertainingly conspiratorial vibe. In contrast, Lee and co-screenwriter Julius Onah constantly lecture viewers on inequality, which is a lot less fun.

Disclaimer, on Apple TV+

Ironically, Stephen Brigstocke’s debut sells quite well for a self-published literary novel, especially considering he really never cared about sales. He was writing for a very exclusive audience: Catherine Ravenscroft, her husband Robert, and their anti-social son Nicholas. Unfortunately, for the Ravenscrofts, the book is transparently based on her, revealing the darkest time of her life. Yet, publication was only the first step in Brigstocke’s campaign of vengeance in creator-director Alfonso Cuaron’s 7-part Disclaimer, based on Renee Knight’s novel, which premieres today on Apple TV+.

The series opens on a high note for Ravencroft, but a fall is coming. She is about to accept a prestigious award for documentary producing and she finally convinced her awkward, under-achieving son to move out of the house. After the awards ceremony, she returns home, where she starts reading a book mailed to her, The Perfect Stranger. It is not the prose the causes her to start violently retching, but the content, because she easily recognizes herself in those pages.

To be honest, Brigstocke did not even write the book himself. His late wife Nancy did. Sadly, she slowly imploded after their college-aged son Jonathan died while on an Italian holiday, under murky circumstances that somehow involve Ravenscroft. His grieving mother wrote the book based on police reports and the revealing undeveloped photos he left behind. Many of them were sexually explicit pictures of Ravencroft. Those same pictures will eventually find their way to Robert Ravencroft, along with his own copy of The Perfect Stranger. However, Brigstocke fully understands his target’s weakest point: her son Nicholas.

In terms of style and tone, Disclaimer is closely akin to the “unreliable narrator” genre exemplified by Gone Girl, except in this case, the narrator, the omniscient voice of Indira Varma, is quite credible. Instead, the author and readers are unreliable.

To be perfectly clear, this series is only intended for mature adults. The early episodes are highly charged sexually, whereas the final two are extremely difficult to watch. However, there is a point to the horrifying acts they depict. In some ways, Disclaimer could be a companion piece to Tar, which also starred Cate Blanchett. Both directly address the excesses of cancel culture, which Brigstocke shrewdly weaponizes against Ravenscroft.

Indeed, Cuaron viscerally reminds us how much context is missing from supposedly damning photos and cell phone videos. Frankly, Disclaimer shames us all for being at least complacent and more likely complicit in this toxic practice of personal destruction via cancellation and online dehumanization—and shame is indeed the only fitting word for it.

Blanchett is perfectly cast as Ravenscroft, showing how her elegant reserve slowly cracks into a million pieces. She perfectly executes the dramatic jiu jitsu the eventually lays the audience out flat. However, Leila George’s performance as the young Catherine Ravenscroft is arguably even braver, given the demanding physical nature of her work.

For those accustomed to seeing Kevin Kline in light middle-aged rom-coms, it will be shocking to see him decrepitly aged-up to play the sort of role we might expect of Tom Wilkinson or Jim Broadbent. Yet, he deftly lures viewers in, openly inviting us to identify with Brigstocke’s righteous fury.

Teacup, in Cinema Daily US

Peacock's TEACUP (based on a Robert McCammon novel) employs several science fiction devices to tell a tale of apocalyptic horror, but it is also a compelling (and extreme) family drama. CINEMA DAILY US review up here.

Death Without Mercy

The damage and death toll of the 2023 Turkey-Syria Earthquake was very much like the 2008 Sichuan earthquake. The magnitudes are not so important. The severity of the destruction resulted from shoddy construction, abetted by high-level government corruption and exacerbated by a slow and incompetent official relief response. The public was outraged by Erdogan’s handling of the crisis. Yet, he came back to win re-election anyway—almost miraculously. Some might call it a curse instead. That probably includes some of the grieving survivors who share their bitter experiences in Waad Al-Kateab’s Death Without Mercy, which opens tomorrow in New York.

Probably 70% of Al-Kateab’s film consists of found primary sources, such as security cam footage, handheld device videos, and news reports. As members of the documentary community, who both previously worked with Al-Kateab, Fuad and Fadi instinctively started recording themselves. The dramatic footage they captured was devastatingly tragic and often absurdly Kafkaesque, but what it never shows is any kind of coordinated government rescue operation, even though off-the-street volunteers could hear buried people screaming under the rubble for several days.

Death Without Mercy truly never pulls its punches, especially when it incorporates the “goodbye” messages recorded by victims fatally trapped beneath debris. Yet, probably the most damning segment is a government PSA message recorded months earlier, promising a clean slate to any applicants with open zoning complaints. Suddenly, ten-story buildings that were only zoned for four became legal, as a gift to the people, offered by their loving government.

Frankly, the Syrian government’s response was probably even worse, but there is less documentation, because the Assad regime has turned the country into a closed pariah state. In fact, the Syrian government largely relied on relief aid from the United Nations (which we paid for), that was hopelessly slow in reaching victims, because of gross bureaucratic incompetence.

Tales from the Void: Into the Unknown, on Screambox

Sometimes geometric shapes are scary, like spirals in Uzumaki or the Monolith in 2001 (at least if you’re an ape). A mysterious square has much the same effect in the first episode of this series based on stories originally published on r/NoSleep, a popular source for next generation creepypasta horror. An inexplicable square creeps everyone out in “Into the Unknown,” Tales from the Void’s first episode, which starts streaming Sunday on Screambox.

The darned thing just shows up one day in the parking lot of a large, somewhat isolated apartment building. It is like a giant square, non-reflective black flat-screen TV that hovers in the air. It also appears invisible to cameras and film, as Harris discovers. He is the only one exhibiting intellectual curiosity about it, but plenty of his neighbors are obsessed.

Harris’s friend Anton has the night-watch, while Bill (who seems to hold some kind of building captain position) and his hired goons guard it by day. Increasingly paranoid, Bill fears the Square must be some kind of government experiment and/or a threat of unknown origin. He is determined to protect the building, especially Harris, from the Square, no matters how much it hurts.

In the post-episode interview segment, Matthew Dymerski, the author of the original r/NoSleep story, identifies the Twilight Zone episode “The Monsters are Due on Main Street” as his primary influence, which definitely shows. Frankly, there is considerably more time devoted to the collective madness than the big dumb object itself.

However, director Joe Lynch maintains a moody atmosphere and skillfully builds the mounting paranoia.  The adaptation of Dymerski’s tale lacks the black humor and snappy attitude of many of Lynch’s film, particularly Mayhem and Everly, but it definitely creates a sense of a self-contained community, under extreme stress.

Citadel: Diana, on Prime

Imagine if Thrush won and U.N.C.L.E. lost—or if you are a Get Smart fan, CONTROL lost and KAOS won (but in retrospect, doesn’t “CONTROL” sound more sinister than “KAOS?”). Regardless, Citadel has fallen as viewers of the mothership series fully understand. As far as their deep-cover Italian mole knows, she is the final Citadel survivor in showrunner Gina Gardini’s six-episode Italian spinoff, Citadel: Diana, which premieres tomorrow on Prime Video.

Diana Cavalieri never quits. That is why Gabriele, her Citadel handler, approached her, just as she uncovered evidence of high-level government involvement in the explosion that killed her parents. Of course, that was only part of the story. It was really the Italian branch of Manticore, Citadel’s nemesis, who was pulling the strings. With his guidance, she attracts the attention of Manticore recruiters, pretending to be the good guys to entice her.

Gabriele kept Cavalieri’s cover so deep, only he knew of her existence. Obviously, that was a blessing since Citadel fell. That day was a triumph for Manticore across the world, except in Italy, because the heir apparent was killed during the raid. Now, Edo Zani stands to succeed his father, ruthlessly elegant arms dealer Ettore Zani, if anything is left. Manticore France and Manticore Germany have sanctioned Manticore Italy, punishing Ettore for his unsuccessful power play for control of the European market.

The last Zani heir has ideas about reclaiming their “rightful” position. He also starts noticing Cavalieri, both professionally and personally, which will be useful in her quest for vengeance. However, given the nature of the missions they undertake together, his attention might not be so great for her general day-to-day survival.

The action set pieces of Citadel: Diana lack the bombastic spectacle of the original Citadel anchor series, but the spinoff is considerably more stylish, which probably stands to reason. It is Italian, after all. These spies are catwalk ready, but Cavalieri’s asymmetrical coif is weirdly distracting. It seems like it would require too much maintenance for a field operative.

Regardless, Gardini and series director Arnaldo Catinari make the most of the visually intriguing locations. Through the use of some judicious but eye-popping CGI, the series also creates stunning images of the Duomo di Milano in ruins, which in this world, Manticore Italy cynically destroyed as distraction.

The Dead Room, on PBS

Aubrey Judd is so old school, he largely built his reputation on radio. He still hosts the same long-standing ghost story program, but, much to his frustration, annoying hipsters now write most of the tales he reads. However, the script gets flipped in more ways than one in Mark Gatiss’s The Dead Room, which airs on participating PBS stations over the coming month.

Unlike The Tractate Middoth, this week’s Ghost Story (formerly “for Christmas”) is not based on a M.R. James classic. Here we have a Gatiss original, but perhaps he should have stuck with the master.

Regardless, hammy Judd is a perfect fit for the great Simon Callow. Frankly, Judd finds tonight’s story a bit tacky, because of the violence, but his new producer, Tara, believes it is the kind of contemporary work they need to spruce the show up. Ironically, they must record this week’s production in the old, shabby studio the show used to be produced in years ago.

Initially, Judd finds it rather nostalgic to return to his old “haunt.” At least that is what he tries to project for the benefit of Tara and Joan, their ancient, taciturn foley artist. Yet, he soon hears strange noises nobody else notices. Perhaps most ominously, the pages of his script in explicably re-arrange themselves into a completely different story. It rather unnerves him, but somehow he fails to recognize the significance of it all.

In terms of story, Dead Room is passable, but it is no M.R. James yarn. Clearly, Gatiss tries to bring “updated” contemporary social sensibilities to the venerable Ghost Story for Christmas tradition, but it possibly backfires. After all, Judd’s identity is central to his character and his actions, but they consequently lead to the sins he must account for.

Nevertheless, it is a pleasure to listen to Callow unleash his inner Vincent Price as he waxes poetic over great ghost stories and other assorted pleasures of life. Callow has the voice for it, so he ought to narrate more spooky tales for real.

Hellboy: The Crooked Man

Considering he is such a staunch anti-Nazi, Hellboy would probably take issue with the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense (BPRD)’s association with the United Nations, in light of the UN’s current ideological climate. Back in the 1950s, the UN declared him an honorary human. However, Anung Un Rama (a.k.a. Hellboy) remains keenly aware of his lineage, as the offspring of a witch and a demon. Once again, he fights both in Brian Taylor’s Hellboy: The Crooked Man, which releases today on VOD.

While babysitting their “cargo,” a large demonic spider, Hellboy’s boxcar derails, forcing him and his fellow BPRD agent Bobbie Jo Song to chase the arachnid into the Appalachian hill country. Things go from bad to worse, when they encounter a village plagued by witchcraft.

Tom Ferrell, a recently returned prodigal son, understands the black magic only too well. Effie Kolb, a seductive witch, nearly tempted Ferrell into a Faustian bargain when he was a teen. Frankly, he fears he backed out of the ritual too late. Assuming himself damned, Ferrell still wants to save his childhood sweetheart, Cora Fisher, who lately succumbed to the temptations of black magic.

He must also bury his profligate late father in the only holy ground available, in the grounds of Rev. Watts’s tiny clapboard church. Ominously, the local witches lay siege to the church, under the orders of the demonic Crooked Man. Once a wealthy man, the Crooked one hopes to regain his fortune, by earning one penny for every soul he corrupts.

The spooky, witchy hill-and-hollow country is actually an eerily suggestive setting for the Hellboy franchise to explore. It is easy to believe evil infects the literal ground there (which agitated the spider, causing its escape). (Licensing Cowboy Roy Brown’s ‘Trouble in Mind” for the closing credits was a nice touch.) However, its straight-to-VOD (in the U.S.) production values look a bit threadbare. There is also a lot of hocus pocus in the third act that makes little to no sense.

On the plus side, the portrayal of blind Rev. Watts is refreshingly sympathetic. Unlike far too many horror movie depictions of priests, when Rev. Watts faces temptation, he resists. Indeed, he turns out to be quite a heroic figure (whom Joseph Marcell plays with appropriate conviction).

The Irrational, Season Two, on NBC

Last season, Dr. Alec Mercer overcame his own personal biases and the “halo effect” to undercover a liberal politician’s involvement in the deadly bombing that left him physically scarred. Perhaps this season, he might heal in other ways as well. However, Dr. Mercer must first deal with the cliffhanger that ended the first season finale when creator Arika Lisanne Mittman’s Irrational returns tonight, on NBC.

One of the things that went right for Mercer last season was his increasingly romantic relationship with Dinshaw, so he would presumably be distressed to see her snatched off the street and bundled into a van. Of course, it rather follows that the kidnapping would be related to her previous work as a MI-6 agent. Fortunately for her, Mercer deduces her distress sooner rather than later. He also has a direct line into the FBI. In addition to his ex, Marisa Clark, who often calls in Mercer to consult, his formerly slacker sister Kylie also works at the Bureau as a contract cyber-crime specialist.

As a result, the season premiere, “Collateral Damage,” is less of a whodunit and more of ticking clock rescue operation. Lead Jesse L. Martin has solid chemistry with Keren David, which helps sell the drastic step Mercer takes to find Dinshaw. Meanwhile, his long-suffering teaching assistant Rizwan Asadi must endure several clinical experiments exploring the overwhelming desire for revenge.

Indeed, Mercer’s investigative methods are often the best elements of each episode. This is very definitely true of the next installment, “A Kick in the Teeth,” a crisply paced hunt for an apparent serial killer (nicely helmed by experienced horror genre director Ernest Dickerson), but the mystery is undercut by the episode’s limited cast of characters.

However, it announces an increased role for supporting character, Simon Wilton, the well-heeled replacement for Mercer’s other assistant, Phoebe Duncan, a Gen Z’er “stressed out” by Mercer’s crime-fighting productivity. Wilton both embarrasses and redeems himself. However, unlike other students of his generation, he takes responsibility in a smartly written scene, featuring Max Lloyd-Jones as Mercer’s new TA-gofer-sounding board.

Mr. Crocket, on Hulu

A lot of people owe Barney the dinosaur an apology. He is far from the world’s most detestable kiddie TV host. Compared to this sinister child-abductor, it isn’t even a close call. As a bonus, his theme song is an even more insidious earworm. However, one of the few parents he leaves alive comes looking for her son in Brandon Espy’s Mr. Crocket, which premieres Friday on Hulu.

As we see in the prologue, if Mr. Crocket hears one of young fans taking verbal or physical abuse while they play one of his VHS tapes, he comes out of the screen to administer violent retribution, taking the child back with his to his creepy nether-realm. Usually, there are no survivors, but when the mom, Rhonda, escapes his wrath, becoming a broken, crazy street lady out of grief.

Unfortunately, Summer Beverly ignores Rhonda’s crazy-sounding warnings until it is too late. Her son Major has been an eponymous pain, ever since his father tragically passed away. After a few hurtful (but from the audience’s perspective, not unwarranted) words, out comes Mr. Crocket. Of course, the cops dismiss Beverly’s outlandish account. Instead, she must team up with Rhonda and Eddie, a mysterious young man who seems to know a lot about Mr. Crocket from personal traumatic experience, to find the missing children.

The premise of Mr. Crocker, expanded from by Espy and co-screenwriter Carl Reid from Espy’s short film, appealingly pushes a lot of VHS-era nostalgic buttons. However, it feels like the final product was reluctantly dumbed-down somewhat. The obvious comparison film, I Saw the TV Glow, was too much in its own head—and way, way too preoccupied with sexual and gender identity politics. In contrast, Espy and Crocker could have dived more deeply into Crocket’s backstory. Perhaps the best example of a between-film that gets the balance right would be Five Nights at Freddy’s.

Nevertheless, Elvis Nolasco gives a terrific horror villain performance as Mr. Emanuel Crocket. If Crocket goes franchise, he will deserve the lion’s share of the credit. He shows an understanding of what made characters like Robert Englund’s Freddy so popular, while still making Mr. Crocket very much his own thing. Plus, Alex Winkler’s songs, with lyrics written by Espy and Reid, perfectly compliment his unsettlingly chipper attitude (also note, they hold a final tune for an end-of-credits “stinger).

Superman & Lois, Season Four, on CW

This will be the final season of CW’s last DC superhero series currently on its schedule, but they are going out with a bang. The first three episodes of season four adapt the most famous Superman comic book story arc of all time. Saying what it is outright would violate embargoes. However, any serious fan knew the prospect of battling Doomsday during season three’s cliffhanger ending boded ominously. Dark days are ahead, but the Kent family must band together in the first three episodes of Superman & Lois’s fourth and final season, which premieres tomorrow on the CW (moved up from its previously announced date).

Thanks to a suit and some training from the DOD, Jordan Kent is Superboy, but he remains the same dumb kid. His brother Jon continues to be the more mature one (comparatively speaking). The Kent family needs his stabilizing influence when Lex Luthor declares war on them. Beyond the obvious supervillain reasons, he created Doomsday to take on Superman, to get to Lois Lane, Luthor’s real nemesis. The disgraced mogul still blames the former Daily Planet reporter for his incarceration and his estrangement from his daughter Elizabeth.

Luthor is not too happy with Lois’s father, General Sam Lane, either. In addition to serving as Superman’s handler, he also helped secure protective relocation for Luxor’s daughter. Striking while the iron is hot, Luthor has his thugs kidnap the General. Although the Kents remain in crisis mode, Superboy can focus his super-hearing on finding his grandfather’s location.

At least it gives him something structured to do. When Superboy flies off on his own initiative in the following episode, “A World Without,” it leads to trouble. Frankly, they already have plenty of that. In addition to the embargoed stuff, Smallville Mayor (and Clark Kent’s old sweetheart) Lana Lang Cushing undercovers evidence of Luthorcorp’s plans to buy up considerable parts of the town, presumably for nefarious purposes.

Things look pretty bad in the next episode, “Always My Hero,” so the DOD must call in reinforcements. There is no Justice League in this world (and not much time left to create it), but there are John Henry Irons, a.k.a. Steel (Shaquille O’Neal played a very different version of him in a movie best forgotten) and his daughter (no longer his niece) Nathalie, a.k.a. Starlight, who happens to be Gen. Lane’s granddaughter, in a weird multiversal kind of way. They will see their share of action in an episode rife with tragedy, but driven by hope.

Indeed, these three episodes show why Superman & Lois is better suited to take on this storyline than the live action films. Despite the spandex and superpowers, this show always put family drama front and center. It is about the Kents rather than cosmic spectacle. (That said, the big extended super-slugfest is rendered surprisingly well.) Despite some changes to fit the show’s pre-existing mythology, it really gets to the essence of the classic storyline.

It is also just as much about Smallville as was Smallville. Indeed, Emmanuelle Chriqui supplies some of the most memorable quiet moments as Mayor Cushing, who comes to support her friends, the Kents. However, Michael Kudlitz is definitely the star of these three episodes, as Luthor, who is undeniably on the march. He certainly has the swagger and the snarl for the super-villain.

Dylan Walsh also delivers some standout scenes as Gen. Lane. While his character is imperfectly human (as we see during flashbacks), he is a refreshingly sympathetic military figure. Indeed, the way the series developed his relationships with the Ironses, nicely played by Wole Parks and Taylor Buck, has been quite an intriguing wrinkle. Parks and Buck also deserve credit for rehabilitating the Steel character after the Shaq debacle.

Guitierrez’s The Wait

Jobs were hard to come by in 1970s Spain. Poor Eladio would have been better off working as a bellhop in a dysfunctional hotel in Torquay. Instead, he accepts a position as the gamekeeper on Don Francisco’s estate. They say the soil there is cursed and he might be too in director-screenwriter F. Javier Guitierrez’s The Wait, which is now available on VOD.

There was a time when Eladio was an avid hunter, but he is over it now. However, his young son Floren has a passion for shooting, but more so inanimate targets than animals. Regardless, the little boy takes to Eladio’s new gig much more readily than his mother, Marcia.

One day, Don Francisco’s crony, Don Carlos, offers Eladio a Faustian bargain. Don Francisco approved ten shooting stands for the big annual hunt, but Don Carlos, the hunt master, wants to sell thirteen. Eladio fears the potential crossfire could be dangerous. However, his increasingly embittered Marcia browbeats him into accepting Don Carlos’s bribe. Tragically, Eladio’s concerns are vindicated when Floren is killed by an errant shot.

Thus begins a Job-like succession of woes raining down on Eladio. They almost break him, but instead, he latches onto thoughts of vengeance, especially when he uncovers remnants of strange and possibly occult rituals.

The Wait is a powerful film, but it is not a heck of a lot of fun. It is [almost] darker than Putin’s soul and Guitierrez’s pacing is agonizingly deliberate. The film doesn’t just rub viewers’ noses in Eladio’s pain. It grinds their entire bodies into his misery. Yet, there is no denying its haunting potency.

Scare Tactics (Reboot), on USA

Most Star Trek and Star Wars fans would love to jump into the movies they love, but you wouldn’t want to be a part of the action if you are a horror fan. Except, maybe you would, if you were a psycho-killer. Hopefully, participating (as the “prankster”) in horror-themed practical joke shows offer a harmless way of satisfying those impulses. Scare Tactics was the brand-name of horror reality TV, outliving most of its imitators. Since nobody has any better ideas, executive producer Jordan Peele and his Monkeypaw production company help reboot the franchise, but he does not host, when “Bedeviled,” the first new episode of Scare Tactics, premieres tonight on USA.

Peele was a solid host of his Twilight Zone reboot, so hopefully he is saving his hospitality cachet for something of similar cultural heft. Instead, we get “Flip,” a demonic horror-obsessed teen with a TV for a head. Flip feels like something a committee agreed on, so it won’t be shocking if a real host eventually replaces him. (Frankly, there are ought to be a dedication to original host Shannen Doherty, who passed away in July.)

Regardless, the first punking is quite cleverly executed. Two friends just “happened” to be passing by a chapel, where a mega-pregnant woman and her bridegroom are desperate to get married, but they have no witnesses, because all their invited guests were too scared to attend. It seems she is carrying Rosemary’s Baby, who will indeed become the Antichrist, if it is born out of wedlock.

There is plenty of gore and the old school stagecraft is impressive. However, some of the funniest lines sound like inspired ad-libs. Even the target laughs, despite the gross-out lunacy staged for his benefit.

Quentin Dupieux’s Daaaaaali!

You could almost say Salvador Dali was the Andy Warhol of the 1920s and 1930s. The idea an artist could be a multimedia celebrity pretty much started with him. Perhaps more than anyone else before or since, he lived his life like it was performance art. Fittingly, Quentin Dupieux examines Dali’s eccentricity and self-promotion in Daaaaaali! (another film to make you grateful for the control-C copy function), which opens today in New York.

When you understand the title, you understand the nature of the film. Reportedly, each “a” in Daaaaaali!, represents one of the thesps who were supposed to play him in the film (apparently, Dupieux has one “a” to grow on). It is sort of like his I’m Not There, but it is more playful, subversive, and dare we say it . . . surreal. The five do not merely play Dali at different stages of his life. They often switch off mid-scene.

Yet, there’s more, including a storyline—at least more than most Warhol films ever had. Judith Rochant is a journalist (or sometimes a barista) who needs an interview with Dali to take her career to the next level. However, he will not waste his time if cameras are not present. Fortunately, Jerome the producer is willing to fund a documentary sufficiently grandiose to satisfy Dali monumental self-image.

Of course, each attempt to film Dali leads to disaster. In most cases, it is largely or entirely his fault. He can be difficult, especially when he is a guest at a dinner party. Yet, in his defense, the dream a boorish priest insists on telling him literally never seems to end. Whenever, it seems to conclude, it turns out to be another false stop that restarts the unending cycle.

Daaaaaali! never claims to be accurate with regards to anything, but it is much truer to the spirit of Dali’s work than Mary Harron’s Daliland. It is also slyly inventive in a low-tech kind of way, like the early scene of Dali walking down an infinitely long corridor towards the room where Rochant hopes to interview him.

Planet of the Apes: The Good Seeds

Astronauts need to know their physics and engineering. Yet, since most of them have military aviator backgrounds, they are more likely to be the children of farmers than elite college professors. Alan Virdon is a perfect example. He knows his way around spacecraft and a working farm. The latter will come in handy during “The Good Seeds” (directed by Don Weis), the Planet of the Apes episode that premiered fifty years ago on this very day.

After all that training for G-forces, Virdon and Burke are in a great shape. In contrast, their chimpanzee friend Galen was a scholar, not an athlete. Not surprisingly, he twists an ankle while eluding a police patrol. Reluctantly, Polar, a gruff old share-cropper agrees to shelter them, but his eldest son Arto is not happy about it.

According to local custom, the family cow must give birth to a bull before Arto can lease his own farm. Of course, he assumes the humans will exert an unhealthy influence. However, Polar is quite impressed by Virdon’s irrigation and terraced farming recommendations. Clearly, the astronaut’s advice could boost his profitability and sustainability to an exponential degree. Nevertheless, the twitchy Arto bears close watching.

Although “The Good Seed” was the fourth episode to air, it happened to be the first one produced. Notably, this episode presents humanity in a much better light than its predecessors. Instead of bemoaning all our warmongering and tribalism, writer Robert W. Lenski finally gives us credit for our ingenuity. Instead, it is the apes who are mired in superstition and hidebound tradition, to their own detriment. (It is still way too early to start organizing to take back our planet.)

Although Galen’s injury has Roddy McDowell sidelined for most of the episode, it serves as an excellent showcase for Ron Harper’s Virdon, who has some rather touching moments remembering his family and his childhood back on the farm. Unfortunately. Burke makes a somewhat outdated reference that would have the Disney content censors clutching their pearls, but normal, healthy people will just roll their eyes and forget about it.

Mambo Legends: The Music Never Ends, on PBS

Do not call them a “ghost band.” For years, they played with Tito Puente and other great Latin bandleaders, so they are not about to stop now. They still sound great and keep gigging with a regularity younger musicians would envy. The reminiscences are almost as enjoyable as the music in Mari Keiko Gonzalez’s Mambo Legends: The Music Never Ends, which airs tomorrow on PBS, as part of the current season of Voces.

Led by bandleader John “Dandy” Rodriguez, under the “music direction” of Jose Madera, the Mambo Legends Orchestra is sort of like a Puente tribute band, because his music dominates their set lists. They all played El Rey, but most also had stints in the Machito and Tito Rodriguez bands, the other two of the big three Latin bands.

They are all accomplished and have plenty of stories to tell, like baritone saxophonist Carmen Laboy, who was the first women to perform on-stage with Puente’s band. We also hear from saxophonist Mitch Frohman, who happened to be a Jewish kid from the Bronx, who discovered Latin jazz and dance music when he sat in with Joe Cuba, while gigging with another band in the Catskills.

It turns out, you probably heard a lot of Frohman’s work. Years ago, he recorded multiple improvisations for episodes of Sex and the City. However, he has yet to receive full and fair compensation. And just like that, another musician gets a raw deal.

Ghost Stories: The Tractate Middoth, on PBS

For many [stupid] people, books are sort of like ghosts. They relics from the past, bearing witness to the folly we might have prevented, had we only read more of them. However, a part-time librarian might have a legitimately haunted book on his shelves, which is bizarrely in-demand throughout Mark Gatiss’s The Tractate Middoth, based on the classic M.R. James story, which airs on participating PBS stations over the coming month.

Although originally produced by the BBC as part of their annual Ghost Story for Christmas, PBS apparently believed the productions they licensed better fit Halloween season. Neither is wrong per se, because James is timeless—and hopefully so are books.

Intellectually gifted but financially challenged William Garrett rather enjoys working part-time in the library, while pursuing his advanced studies, even though “Sniffer” Hodgson, the supervising librarian, is a pompous blowhard. At least he did, until John Eldred requests the Tractate Middoth, an ancient Hebrew text.

The first time Garrett tries to pull it, he believes a mysterious shrouded figure coincidentally retrieved it before him. The next time Eldred calls to request it, Garrett passes out on the way to its shelf, overcome by the supernatural pollen suddenly swirling about. Clearly, that volume holds sinister secrets, involving its former owner, the nasty Dr. Rant, who maybe orchestrated all this weirdness while expiring on his deathbed, as we partially saw during the prologue.

Tractate Middoth is a particularly British ghost story. Indeed, it is easy to imagine how James’s tale might have inspired some of the early library business in A Discovery of Witches. If the story sounds familiar, maybe it is because Leslie Nielsen also portrayed the intrepid librarian on the early-1950s Lights Out anthology show.

Hold Your Breath, on Hulu

Compared to what Oklahoma experienced in the 1930s, current climate change looks rather mild. It wasn’t called the Dust Bowl for no reason. Even before, living was always a constant struggle for “dirt farmers.” Tragically, one high-strung mother’s two greatest phobias, dust and drifters, will plague her at the same time. They might even be related in Karrie Crouse & William Joines’ Hold Your Breath, which premieres today on Hulu.

Margaret Bellum’s hardscrabble life always emphasized the hard. She and her husband already buried their youngest daughter Ada, which prompted her understandable depression. Bellum’s sleepwalking incidents also required her to sleep separated from her other two daughters, Rose and Ollie, for their protection. Perhaps he should not have left her alone for an out-of-state construction job, but it was hard to turn down work during the Smoot-Hawley Depression.

Initially, Bellum’s sister Esther Smith appears more of a cause for concern, due to her poor housekeeping and erratic behavior. She also assumes Rose simply over-stimulated little Ollie’s imagination with her terrifying tales of the “Grey Man.” However, it turns out someone really is hiding in their barn. That would be Wallace Grady, who claims to be a friend of her husband and a faith healer. Of course, if this were true, Hold Your Breath probably wouldn’t be a horror movie.

Hold Your Breath is definitely a slice of macabre Americana, but its secrets and twists hold little shock or surprise, for even moderately experienced genre viewers. The early scenes are quite impressive, taking visual cues from Andrew Wyeth paintings and Florence Owens Thompson photos. As a result, the audience should readily understand how such a desolate and desiccated environment could drive someone crazy.

Ebon Moss-Bachrach is also surprisingly chilling playing against type as the Night of the Hunter-ish Grady. Unfortunately, Crouse & Joines ill-advisedly usher him off screen for long stretches of time. As partial compensation, Sarah Paulson reliably freaks out as Bellum. You could almost think of this as American Horror Story: Dust Bowl.

V/H/S Beyond, on Shudder

Thanks to the collector market, they are making small-batch limited-runs of new VHS tapes again. That is good news for this franchise. In addition to the new appreciation of analog formats, there are also plenty of weird moldy old tapes to uncover out there. The really disturbing ones fuel the creation of urban legends and the Cadillac of found footage franchises. Aliens get into the act a little bit more this time, but all the V/H/S hallmarks remain present in V/H/S Beyond, which premieres this Friday on Shudder.

In a bit of a departure, the wrap-around segments, Jay Cheel’s “Abduction/Adduction” are a mockumentary, supposedly investigating alien encounters at a notorious California mansion. Some of the segments are so well done, it is disappointing to break away to a full chapter. Fittingly, Whitley Strieber gets a lot of deserved credit for establishing and popularizing (or whatever terms might be more fitting) the now familiar alien abduction tropes. Frankly, it would be fascinating to see Cheel (who helmed Shudder’s Cursed Films series) expand this into a full film.

By far, the scariest constituent film (or tape) is Jordan Downey’s “Stork,” intriguingly “based on artwork by Oleg Vdovenko.” The premise is simple, but lethally effective. An elite anti-crime police squad raids the squat house of a cult suspected of kidnapping infants. What they find is a horror show. This is the kind of found footage that is truly terrifying. The crack-house-style design makes viewers crave a tetanus booster and the camera work keeps you on high alert. Like many of Beyond’s instalments, “Stork” is not unlike several previous V/H/S contributions, but it sure works.

That is also true of Virat Pal’s “Dream Girl,” but to a lesser extent. Tara is a Bollywood idol, who shares a kinship with Hannah Fierman’s Lily the Demon from the original V/H/S (and a spin-off), as a group of paparazzi learn the hard way. In this case, the Bollywood setting helps distinguish it from its predecessors.

‘Live and Let Dive,” directed by Justin Martinez (the only returning V/H/S alumnus, from when he was part of the Radio Silence collaborative group) probably earns the honor of the film’s second best segment. In this case, a reluctant skydiver celebrates his birthday with his hard-partying friends, just as the aliens swope down from the skies to attack. The horrors start in the air and finish on the ground. Martinez fully capitalizes on the found footage genre’s potential for what-the-heckness, staging some wild alien attacks, that actually look great, thanks to the subgenres built-in low resolution requirements.

“Fur Babies” directed by Christian Long & Justin Long (the Apple commercial guy and his brother) is probably Beyond’s grossest, most disturbing component film. It also delivers the most satiric “bite,” skewering an annoying band of left-wing animal rights activists, plotting an undercover sting operation against home-based kennel. However, their hubris leads to horrific comeuppance. “Fur Babies” is rough, but it is the one fans will be talking about for years to come.

Where’s Wanda, on Apple TV+

It probably wasn’t the Nuppelwocken, the legendary minotaur beast that supposedly lives in the forest surrounding Wanda Klatt’s sleepy German village. Unfortunately, her abductor was most likely human. She has been missing for 70 days. Her parents are keenly aware of the significance of the 100-day-mark. Therefore, they decide to take matters into their own hands, but they are still the same goofballs they’ve always been in creators Oliver Lansley and Zoltan Spirandelli’s eight-episode Where’s Wanda, which premieres today on Apple TV+.

Just so everyone is clear, this is a comedy about two parents desperately searching for their missing daughter. It is probably a moderately-sized miracle that the series is not completely hobbled by tonal issues. To their credit, Lansley and directors Christian Ditter, Tobi Baumann, and Facundo Scalerandi never shy away from the fear, pain, and guilt felt by Carlotta and Dedo Klatt. Even in a dark comedy, their situation is a nightmare.

Nevertheless, they are who they are. Schlubby Dedo was also laid off, but he has yet to tell his wife, because he fears her fits of rage. Ironically, they have both largely neglected Wanda’s younger brother, Ole, during their extended family crisis.

Wanda disappeared on the day of the Nuppelwocken festival, leaving no trace until the recent discovery of her shirt in a neighbor clothing donation bin. Since the police have done little but act condescendingly, the Klatts hatch their own plan. Focusing on the homes within a reasonable radius of the donation kiosk, the Klatts devise pretexts to enter, so they can plant spy cameras. As a bonus, this desperate and technically illegal plan helps them reconnect with nerdy ole, who acquires the hardware on the dark web and helps monitor their feeds.

Each episode focuses on a suspicious house, interspersed with flashbacks to Wanda’s kidnapping and eventful moments of her captivity.  Even though she is missing, Wanda is a constant presence throughout the series.

That would be a provocative set-up for a serious drama, but there is also a great deal of slapstick physical humor. Where’s Wanda probably ought to carry a whiplash warning. Yet, the way Lansley and company depict the Klatts coming together as a family and reconciling as a couple are definitely the show’s saving graces. There is so much heart in Where’s Wanda, it never feels offensive or exploitative.

Heike Makatsch is also pretty incredible as Carlotta. When she rages against cruel fate, the useless cops, and her stupid husband, you can feel her pain. Her verbal lacerations are also often brutally funny. However, Axel Stein delivers a very familiar-feeling goofy husband performance, which stylistically is not nearly far enough from Ralph Kramden.

Things Will Be Different

It was supposed to be the ultimate “time-out.” The cops will never find these sibling outlaws’ time-slip hideout, but someone or something else has access to their sanctuary in director-screenwriter Michael Felker’s Things Will Be Different, which releases this Friday in theaters and on VOD.

Joseph and Sidney share some stormy family history, but they still sufficiently trust each other to pull off an armed heist. Their getaway could have been cleaner, but Joseph charted an unusual escape route. Apparently, this quiet farmhouse has the power to travel to some distant point in time, where they can simply wait out the cops. For each day spent in this mysterious other time, an equal day passes in the time-period the siblings left. They figure two weeks should be sufficient for the heat to blow over, but Sidney will still be home before her daughter misses her so badly.

However, just as brother and sister are about to triumphantly stride through that strange door, they find it mysteriously boarded up, with instructions to meet at the farm’s old mill. By using an old Dictaphone as a means of interdimensional, or intertime communication, the siblings learn the strange forces governing the farm are aware of their intrusion and they are not happy about it. However, all will be forgiven if they stay to capture and kill the violent “time bandits” using the portals for their own sinister ends. Of course, they agree, because what choice do they have, but the waiting takes a considerable toll, mentally and emotionally.

As weird as that sounds, Felker builds the premise and the rules of the world quite convincingly. This is gritty, grounded, lo-fi science fiction in the best sense. Frankly, viewers never get a full picture of the system that entraps the brother and sister, but the partial snapshot is pretty trippy. Technically, Things Will Be Different involves time-travel, but it really is very much its own thing. It is worth noting Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead, the team behind films like Spring, The Endless, and Synchronic served as executive producers and played supporting roles. Felker’s film should definitely appeal to their fans, both thematically and stylistically.

Joan, on CW

The 1980s were an era of upward social mobility, flashy style, and conspicuous consumption. Joan Hannington wanted her piece of the pie, even if she had to steal it—especially if she could steal it. However, previous bad decisions, like her first marriage, keep blocking her attempts to get ahead in creator Anna Symon’s six-episode Joan, which premieres Wednesday on CW.

Joan is a loving mother, but little Kelly’s often-absent father is a lowlife, whose underworld debts endanger them both. Believing she needs money to create the safe, stable family environment her daughter deserves, Joan embarks on a series of desperate crimes. She has mixed success as a lone wolf, but she starts playing in more advanced leagues when she meets dodgy antiques dealer (apparently, that is the only kind you can find in London), Boisie Hannington. He has some big ideas, but they require patience and discipline, both of which Joan has in short supply.

Despite their bickering, Joan falls hard for Boisie and vice versa. She also enjoys the posh clothes and luxurious hotels that his schemes require. Of course, Boisie’s overseas accomplice Albie predicts Joan’s prima donna attitude will lead to trouble, but like everyone else in this series, he cannot walk away from a potentially lucrative score.

As you might be sensing, Joan has a real identity crisis. Symon cannot decide whether she is making a British version of Ocean’s 8 or an EastEnders spin-off. Just when it starts to get into a tantalizing larcenous endeavor, Hannington rushes off for another depressing meeting with social services or her grim family. To further complicate the audience’s response, we watch the future Mrs. Hannington break so many laws and make so many foolishly impulsive decisions, it is hard to root for her during the downbeat scenes of domestic drama.

Frankly, many questionable calls were made throughout the series, including the make-up for lead thesp Sophie Turner (the Dark Phoenix), which is so ghostly pale, you might half-expect the twist-ending from The Sixth Sense. It is a shame, because Turner is quite good expressing all of the title character’s emotional highs and lows. She makes Joan quite a roller coaster.

The Universal Theory

Thanks to Oppenheimer, viewers are getting used to the idea of physicists as movie heroes. Indeed, as the grandson of a Marine slated for the Japanese mainland amphibious landing, I’m probably alive today thanks to his Manhattan Project. Unfortunately, Johannes Leneirt probably lacks Oppenheimer’s brilliance and virtues. Yet, through dumb luck, he might stumble onto the secret of time-travel, the multiverse, and everything in Timm Kroger’s The Universal Theory, which is now playing in New York.

Leinert’s thesis advisor, Dr. Strathan, thinks little of him, but reluctantly drags him along to a post-war conference in the Swiss Alps. Frankly, for Strathan and his not-so-friendly rival, Prof. Blumberg, WWII maybe still lingers. Indeed, as proteges of Heisenberg, their activities under the National Socialists remain intentionally vague.

Evidently, immigration troubles delay the arrival of the keynote speaker from Iran, so Leinert has plenty of time to kill as they wait. He would like to spend it with Karin Honig, the hotel’s resident jazz vocalist-pianist. Weirdly, when he next approaches her after their memorable first meeting, she acts like a total stranger. Nevertheless, she eventually agrees to a series of assignations, until she suddenly disappears. As Leinert searches for Honig, he hears strange rumors regarding the effects of plutonium on the mountain overshadowing the resort.

Or something like that. Stylistically, Universal Theory is definitely Guy Maddinesque, but if anything, Kroger’s takes an even more abstract approach to narrative. Admittedly, Kroger and co-screenwriter Roderick Warich try to do something very cool and provocative, but it is not sufficiently grounded to connect beyond an intellectual level. The clever wrap-around segments (featuring an older, embittered Leinert appearing on a 1970s talk show, promoting his tell-all memoir, which his publisher insisted on selling as science fiction) offer some ironic humor, but the guts of it all are just too vague, too coyly open-ended, and too resistant to interpretation. Ultimately, the pieces do not quite fit together and the equation never balances.

Frankly, Olivier Asselin’s Le Cyclotron and Gyorgy Palfi’s His Master’s Voice share similar themes and aesthetics, but those under-appreciated films were much better executed. Universal Theory looks amazing, but there is less substance than Kroger’s portentous style suggests. As they might say in the Alps, it is all lederhosen and no Alpine ibex. In terms of storytelling, it is more closely akin to Tav Falco’s Urania Descending or F.J. Ossang’s 9 Fingers, which proudly proclaimed their avant-garde nature. If none of these films mean anything to you, you’re hardly alone, but take it as sign Universal Theory maybe won’t be your cup of tea.