Reviews

MEAD is one of the most refreshing independent science fiction films in years. In an era when most of the genre has been overrun by dreary post-apocalyptic nihilism or depressing dystopian parables, this is a vibrant and humorous space opera with likable protagonists and an interesting villain to boot.

The story, based on the underground comic book "Fever Dreams" from 1972, follows a pair of outlaws--the symbiotically linked human Friz (Samuel Hunt) and his robot/spaceship MEAD (voiced by Patton Oswalt)--as they flee from the zealous Admiral Gillette (Robert Picardo), who has a personal grudge against the pair. MEAD has the unique ability to project illusions to trick his enemies--illusions that Friz must first imagine. Together, they use this ability to evade would-be captors and stay alive.

Along the way, they pick up a fellow outlaw named Phoebe (Lillie Young), who begrudgingly joins them as they set off to steal fuel from a military base on Ganymede. What follows is one of the funniest scenes in the entire film, as they use illusions of a teddy bear, a tyrannosaurus, pteranodons, and a giant toy robot named Timmy the Wunderbot (voiced by Patrick Warburton) to distract military forces and steal the necessary fuel cells.

The trio flees and Admiral Gillette sets after them in an enormous spaceship named Achilles. What the pair doesn't know is that Gillette has brought with a special new helmet that allows him to see through their illusions and instruct his crew how to properly fight the outlaws. A cat-and-mouse firefight ensues, leading to a climax that's one of the most exciting--and surprisingly emotional--scenes in the entire film.

I was fortunate enough experience this in the movie theater with a live audience, where several of the patrons were actually crying during the final scene. I don't know if the film will be playing in theaters again any time soon, but if the opportunity arises, know that this is the best way to experience it--MEAD dazzles on the big screen.

Some technical elements of the film are a little rough around the edges, to be sure, but those are to be expected from an independent production of this scale and budget. To compare its visuals and music unfavorably to movies like Dune (2021) or the recent Disney Star Wars entrees seems to be missing some critical qualifications of how to critique movies. Small productions like MEAD shouldn't be kicked to the ground (as I'm sorry to see some other reviewers have done) for aiming high and not quite hitting all of their marks. On the contrary, we should hold big studios more accountable for recycling the same I. P. again and again, polishing it with all of the finest special effects and music that Hollywood money can buy, and serving us the same recycled tripe for every meal.

For all of its imperfections, I'd take another 10 films with the imagination and ambition of MEAD for every Marvel film of the past decade. If that's the kind of thing you're after, look elsewhere. Otherwise, MEAD may be just the thing for you.

The buzz about "180" rolled in like a great crescendo to Springfield, Missouri around late 2010. Likes on their Facebook page skyrocketed and production updates rolled out by the week as the filmmakers boasted something truly exquisite. And then, days after its 2011 summer premiere, that noise evaporated with a swift and deafening silence.

After one viewing, it's not hard to see why.

The story of "180," a fairly standard redemption tale of a washed-up musician named Gavin Larson, has all of the familiar trappings the genre requires: a roundup of the band, a couple of failed attempts before the final triumph, and, of course, the obligatory romantic subplot.

The screenplay, penned by William A. Price III and director Nathan Pope, has all of the wit and subtlety of a Rob Schneider comedy rewritten by prepubescent teens. The narrative, formulaic as it may be, would have room for potential were it not sheathed in such humorless gags, ludicrous dialogue, and characters who are both nauseatingly idiotic and fundamentally unlikeable.

Gavin, a man who smokes, drinks, cheats, steals, abuses narcotics, and freely uses racist, misogynist, and homophobic slurs, is easily the most unredeemable protagonist ever put on film. He's played with the confident ineptitude only a washed up reality star could bring to the role; that star, of course, is former "Survivor" contestant Benjamin "Coach" Wade, best known for some incredibly dubious claims about breaking kayaking records and fighting pygmy tribes in the Amazon. Swell.

Luckily the bar wasn't set too high against Wade, however, with the crude Randy Evans as lead guitarist Marvin and fellow "Survivor" alumnus Danielle DiLorenzo as the thoroughly unpleasant Tuesday both foundering through their parts. Of course, who can totally blame them with a script so out to sea? These are characters so petty and selfish, one wonders how the filmmakers ever thought anyone would sympathize with them at all. The whole ordeal plays as if they set out to remake "The Blues Brothers" with all of the comedic irony and consequentialism removed--where the Blues Brothers were lovingly anarchist, the players of "180" are bitterly objectivist.

The gags through which these poor characters must suffer are even more demeaning. Nothing--music jokes with Nickelback punchlines, rhyming waiters dressed as caricatured hillbillies, casually lauded thievery, or extreme closeups of bent over asses and exposed crotches--is too obvious, trite, hateful, or vulgar for William A. Price III and Nathan Pope's script. How any of this could have be conceived as comedy is astounding.

What's even more puzzling about "180" is that, for a film about the comeback of a musician, there's a surprising absence of music throughout most of the picture. Even the most basic transition scoring and source music are conspicuously absent from the film. Take, for example, when Gavin plays a scene from his crummy reality show in a hotel room: when was the last time anyone remembers a reality show that wasn't bloated from start to finish with Garageband-quality music? Apparently, the makers of Gavin's show (and the filmmakers behind "180") missed the the most basic Filmmaking 101 bandaid for salvaging crappy scenes with music. Alas, the moment instead plays out with a painfully long silence that only serves to highlight the abounding shoddy camera-work, poor editing, and D-level performances.

Every element of "180" is contempt for good taste. The script has nothing but contempt for its characters, the camera-work nothing but contempt for decent cinematography, the acting nothing but contempt of its craft, and the direction nothing but contempt for quality filmmaking. This is a bad, bad movie. If you have not watched it yet, spare yourself the dime or nickel or penny the filmmakers hope to charge you for the viewing. And if they should screen it for free, hold out until they're offering an hourly rate with benefits. You'll surely need the mental health plan.

"A Place to Grow" is a hokey, woefully stereotypical representation of the American Midwest, brought to us by the surprisingly racist and antisemitic writer, producer, and director Merlin Miller, who also happened to be 2012's presidential nominee for the American Third Position Party.

All politics aside though, the movie is a clichéd bit of Midwest feel-good melodrama, featuring the "talents" of singers Gary Morris and the late Boxcar Willie in perhaps what should remain their only acting roles. Though the cover proudly boasts a performance by Wilford Brimley (indeed, one of the few palatable aspects of the film), he's given very little screen time to do anything with his role—and even less in the script.

However, if one truly good thing can be said about this mostly unfortunate production, it is a fine young performance by Nikki Dunaway as Laura Shuler in her only known screen credit. Shuler not only carries her own weight, she even occasionally picks up the slack when her adult counterparts fall flat.

That aside, even hardcore Midwest, or more specifically Southwest Missouri, loyalists should best avoid this turkey. Most of it isn't worth the celluloid.

With 1998's unfortunate "A Place to Grow," 2008's competent yet all too ambiguous "Apollo," 2011's absurd "180," and the promising yet ultimately underwhelming 2012 web series "Epilogue," it's safe to say that Springfield, Missouri has seen a mixed bag of local productions, with none yet to truly qualify as a hit. With 2013's silent horror web series "Shadow Bound," writer, director, executive producer, star (polymath?) Nathan Shelton may have done just that.

When pulp writer Jack Pickman (Shelton) returns to his hometown Veritas following the death of his estranged father (George Cron), he arrives only to learn that his brother (Drew Diveley) has been committed in a mental asylum and that his father's last case may be directly related to these unfortunate happenings. Jack, perplexed by the news, begins an investigation to uncover the mysterious circumstances of his brother's illness and his father's sudden death. As he descends deeper into his inquiry, plagued by what begins as a series of unsettling dreams, Jack soon realizes he is being tormented by occult forces and that the people of Veritas are not all what they seem to be.

His acting being one of the stronger elements of both "Apollo" and "Epilogue," it should come as no surprise that Shelton's starring performance as Jack Pickman would arrive with such routine excellence. It is, however, admittedly surprising to see writing and execution of so high a quality from the first time filmmaker. A regular director and producer in the Springfield theater community, Shelton's talents have unquestionably translated smoothly through "Shadow Bound" from the stage onto the small screen (to quote Nicholas Meyer, "If only when it was good, it wasn't SO good!").

Shelton shares directing credit with Jason Brasier, Kevin Keppy, Sam Long, and Garrett Tripp, all of whom have (so far) brought a high level of commendability to the production, proficiently shooting in glorious black & white and welcomingly exploiting the area's more cinematic period locations, including some haunting Ozark forests, Central High School, and the historic Pythian Castle.

I am admittedly only reviewing as of what has yet been released (currently up to Episode III: Insomnium), but if the baroque build and high production quality that have so richly populated the first three episodes are any indication of what apocalyptic climax will come, "Shadow Bound" will no doubt solidify itself as the best thing to come out of Springfield, Missouri and the first best showcase of the many talents concealed therein.

Bravo, Nathan Shelton and company!

Firstly, everyone should know that Darkstar was the decade long work of ONE single father living in the mid-west, outside of the mainstream put countless time, energy, and money into it (I've heard it's something around $400,000 of just his expenses). J. Allen Williams wrote, animated, edited, produced, directed, and even played a small role in this project. His daughter also voices one of the characters. He's responded every single email ever sent through the official website. How anybody could write some of the scathing things I've heard said about Darkstar is simply shameful on this count alone.

Having said that, Darkstar is still without question a rock-solid adventure game.

If you're a person who could not care less about the minutia of game-play and the technical side of gaming (like me), you will see a beautiful story dressed to the smallest detail with stylish visuals, a rocking soundtrack, and a deeply engaging film-noir style murder mystery.

The game is not technologically progressive, but it is up to date as far as computers are concerned. My fellow reviewer, who gave Darkstar a scathing review on account of this technical nonsense, even had the audacity to complain about this and simultaneously whine that he had to install a newer version of QuickTime to play (indicating his old one must have been EXTREMELY outdated).

Don't be fooled by what that moron says about the game, as EVERY SINGLE review I've read has praised Darkstar. One even said, "...Darkstar is one of the best indie games I have ever played in my thirty years of gaming." Quite a different tune than our little savior was whistling...

Check out Darkstar if you're into story, visuals, music, or simply art. If you just want to shoot things or just ramble technical bullshit, avoid it at all costs for we don't want to hear your arbitrary complaints.