BLUE VELVET (1986)

Director: David Lynch

Writer: David Lynch

Producer: Fred Caruso

Cast: Kyle MacLachlan, Isabella Rossellini, Dennis Hopper, Laura Dern, Dean Stockwell, George Dickerson, Hope Lange, Priscilla Pointer, Frances Bay, Fred Pickler, Brad Dourif, Jack Nance, J. Michael Hunter, Ken Stovitz, Jack Harvey, Jon Jon Snipes, Dick Green, Peter Carew, Leonard Watkins, Moses Gibson, Philip Markert, Selden Smith, Donald Moore, A. Michelle Depland, Katie Reid, Michelle Sasser, Sparky (the dog), Angelo Badalamenti, Jean Pierre Viale, Robert J. Maxwell (uncredited)

When his father (Jack Harvey) suffers a health crisis, college student Jeffrey Beaumont (Kyle MacLachlan) returns to his small hometown of Lumberton, North Carolina. While walking home from visiting his father in the hospital, Jeffrey discovers a severed, human ear lying in a field. He brings the body part to Detective Williams (George Dickerson) at the Lumberton Police Department. Jeffrey’s curiosity is roused, and he learns from Detective Williams’ daughter, Sandy (Laura Dern), that she overheard her father often mentioning the name of Dorothy Vallens in connection to his other current cases. Vallens (Isabella Rossellini) is a local nightclub singer whose apartment is near the field where Jeffrey found the severed ear. Jeffrey begins his own investigation by sneaking into the singer’s apartment. The young amateur sleuth is soon embroiled in the dangerous circumstances of Dorothy Vallens’ life.

The Flashback Fanatic movie review

I have never been a fan of films that are so obtuse or personal on the director’s part that I can’t possibly interpret them as having any meaning or narrative coherence. Directors creating such works will probably write everyone off who does not “get it” as either being ignorant or wanting to be spoon fed all their entertainment. Such directors are usually affecting cultural and intellectual superiority, when they can’t just admit that they are so self-indulgent that they won’t bother to tell a story well. The late filmmaker David Lynch often comes perilously close to fitting into that category, yet his work can usually hold my attention.

The recent passing of David Lynch has prompted me to revisit some of his films. He is such an idiosyncratic filmmaker that his work can be interesting and head-scratching (Lost Highway-1997) or utterly confusing and irritating (Inland Empire-2006). Nevertheless, each of his films seems to establish a mood all their own, which is probably why David Lynch has inspired the stylistic term “Lynchian.”

Although I am trying to reacquaint myself with some David Lynch films and have not seen all his work, I will probably always feel that Blue Velvet is THE David Lynch movie. I think it is the most accessible of his films, while it still benefits from those touches of Lynchian weirdness.

Now, I suppose that the more erudite among you are probably poopooing me as the most shallow of Lynch-film watchers. Sure, this schlockoholic likes Blue Velvet because it fits a genre and has a coherent plot. However, what I like most about the film are the oddball characters with behaviors we can’t quite understand, but can try to interpret, and the bits of incongruous humor. These are things that do not appear just to fulfill any mystery story or crime drama expectation. They add a grotesque flair to this genre film that makes it distinctive and offbeat, just as any dangerous and bizarre experience should feel to both the film’s protagonist and the audience.

Artist that David Lynch is, he also presents imagery that can be a bit perplexing, causing us to ask: Why do we need to see bugs crawling beneath the front yard of a cozy home in the suburbs, and why must we zoom into the dark abyss of a severed ear? These stylistic touches are meant to be disturbing and perhaps never intended to make any sort of statement. We may attach meaning to them or simply be a bit weirded out. Either reaction serves to make this movie unique and atmospheric without making a jumble of the story.

I am certainly not the first to state that Blue Velvet is about corruption. More specifically, I think it is about the perception of that corruption; a filmic painting displaying corruption in contrast to the idyllic setting it infests. That corruption is not presented as a process. Rather, it is shown as already established and perhaps intrinsic to all things. An example of this is the front yard in that postcard-perfect slice of American suburbia teaming with voracious insects that seem engaged in an unsavory orgy of consumption, copulation, or combat. That thriving nastiness has always been there just beneath the proper, placid surface.

Such a perspective applies to the some of the denizens of Lumberton. The police department has a corrupt detective who has been in cahoots with the criminal element long before the story begins. The Lumberton criminals we meet are presented, without any backstories, brandishing their eccentricities to leave us wondering how such behaviors became instilled in them. This sudden confrontation with unpredictable evil leaves us just as unnerved as Jeffrey Beaumont, the young hero of the story. As most of the narrative is from Jeffrey’s perspective, there is no storytelling cause-and-effect preparation helping us assimilate to the unsettling reveal of the corruption already underway in idyllic Lumberton.

The corruption element can also taint the seemingly decent people we are inclined to root for. Our hero, Jeffrey Beaumont, becomes ensnared in the dangerous situations resulting from local chanteuse Dorothy Vallens being controlled and abused by local criminal Frank Booth. At first, it seems that Jeffrey is simply an impetuous, young adventurer wanting to find clues to a crime. Once we see him hiding in Dorothy Vallens’ apartment spying on the distraught, beautiful woman, we may be seeing him indulging his voyeurism. This aspect of Jeffrey’s character was made much clearer in some excised footage meant to take place earlier in the story that underscored Jeffrey’s conflict between his prurience and his basic decency. We are shown corruption as something everyone must grapple with.

Kyle MacLachlan made his feature-film-starring debut in David Lynch’s previous film, the ill-fated, big-budget, 1984 adaptation of Frank Herbert’s science-fiction novel Dune. MacLachlan would also star as FBI agent Dale Cooper, the hero of Lynch’s cult television series Twin Peaks (1990–91); its prequel film, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (1992); and the 2017 television series revival, Twin Peaks: The Return.

As Blue Velvet’s Jeffrey Beaumont, MacLachlan seems guileless, yet his character’s curiosity may be leading him into indulging darker impulses. Of course, our own curiosity is waiting to be sated by Jeffrey’s investigations, so we identify with him, even if his motives may not be totally pure. He still seems moral and is upset by the injustice and brutality he witnesses, but his sensitivity does not make him an infallible hero. Jeffrey Beaumont is both physically and emotionally vulnerable in the dangerous situations he faces.

The daughter of actors Bruce Dern and Diane Ladd, Laura Dern, would begin her acting career at a very young age and have quite a prolific career herself. Like her Blue Velvet co-star Kyle MacLachlan, Dern would continue to work in further David Lynch film projects: Wild at Heart (1990), Inland Empire (2006), and with MacLachlan in the 2017 Twin Peaks: The Return series.

As Lumberton Police Detective John Williams’ teenage daughter, Laura Dern’s Sandy seems to be the most unsullied character in Blue Velvet’s community. She becomes Jeffrey’s reluctant cohort in his investigation when he gently coerces her assistance to help him gain access to the apartment of the mysterious Dorothy Vallens. During the rest of the movie, Sandy is Jeffrey’s confidant. Dern’s Sandy has appealing, nice-girl chemistry with MacLachlan’s Jeffrey. She also expresses the film’s theme of lurking corruption when she half-jokingly tells Jeffrey, “I don’t know if you’re a detective or a pervert.”

Our neo-noir femme fatale here is Isabella Rossellini. She is shrouded in mystery and misery as The Slow Club’s lounge singer, Dorothy Vallens. This was only the Italian actress’s second American film, and Rossellini gives a very brave performance. Her character is only glamorous when in the nightclub spotlight. The rest of the time, we see her as a tragic and tortured woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Her beauty entices Jeffrey Beaumont, and her plight earns his sympathy and compels him to continue his risky investigation.

If ever there was a scene-stealing performance, it is Dennis Hopper’s as the despicable Frank Booth. He is full of bizarre quirks and outbursts that are usually profane and threatening or funny. His psychotic temperament drives his every scene to an unpleasant conclusion. Frank Booth is the volatile thug that has made Dorothy Vallens his virtual prisoner. Frank seems to actually revere Dorothy as he cries during her nightclub performance of “Blue Velvet.” Otherwise, she is nothing but his long-suffering slave. While we hate his guts, we still see he has some unspoken mental conflicts probably responsible for his manic and violent behavior.

Dean Stockwell manages the impossible feat of stealing his single scene in the film from Dennis Hopper. As the “suave” Ben, Stockwell is an eccentric criminal crony of Frank Booth, yet another of the many oddballs in the criminal underworld of Lumberton. There is really no plot purpose served by Ben and his scene; it is just a weird and wild stop during Frank’s nighttime road trip. This adds to the unpredictable nightmare vibe of the film.

Although now regarded as a classic from an important filmmaker, when Blue Velvet was first released, many were either nonplussed or offended. This was no mere crime thriller; while it dallied in the genre, its main goal was to evoke a unique atmosphere by contrasting the comforting stability of small-town America with the unsettling reveal of lurking, inexplicable evil. Whether you call it a mystery yarn, crime drama, or neo-noir, Blue Velvet is stylized filmic fabric hung from the genre curtain rod. It needs that genre support for its display, but its style is what intrigues, shocks, and fascinates.

EATING RAOUL (1982)

Director: Paul Bartel

Writers: Paul Bartel, Richard Blackburn

Producer: Anne Kimmel

Cast: Paul Bartel, Mary Woronov, Robert Beltran, Susan Saiger, Garry Goodrow, Dan Barrows, Ed Begley, Jr., John Shearin, Buck Henry, John Paragon, Don Steele, Edie McClurg, Richard Blackburn, Darcy Pulliam, Ralph Brannan, Hamilton Camp, Billy Curtis, Allan Rich, Anna Mathias, Richard Paul

Paul and Mary Bland (Paul Bartel and Mary Woronov) are a financially strapped, asexual, married couple living in a Los Angeles, California apartment building that is crawling with swingers. When Paul kills one of the sex-crazed partiers (Garry Goodrow) trying to assault Mary, the Blands find a lot of money on the body that they could use toward a down payment on the country kitchen restaurant that they aspire to open. It occurs to them that killing and robbing perverts they think no one will miss could quickly finance their business startup. The Blands place sex fetish performance ads in a local paper to lure more victims to their apartment.

The Flashback Fanatic movie review

Paul Bartel and Mary Woronov both had indie and underground film experience: In the 1960s, Bartel had directed his own experimental short films while Woronov appeared in famous multi-media artist Andy Warhol’s film projects. By the early ’70s, both Bartel and Woronov were working in low-budget feature films. They first worked together in the Bartel-directed Roger Corman production Death Race 2000 (1975). They would continue to collaborate in numerous films, both often playing roles together as an odd couple. Bartel decided that he and Woronov could play a couple that would be the main protagonists of a film. With that goal in mind, Bartel conceived the dark comedy Eating Raoul and gave the cult film audience the ultimate Bartel-Woronov movie.

As Paul and Mary Bland, Bartel and Woronov seem like the most reasonable people in a crass, hedonistic world. They have a lifestyle modeled after the squeaky-clean façade of 1950s media. In their apartment full of retro furniture and bric-a-brac, they sleep fully clothed in separate twin beds and are appalled by the rampant sexuality of the other tenants in their apartment building. Both at home and at work, the Blands are constantly confronted with lowbrow and debauched people.

While they are offended by this world full of crude horndogs, the Blands are just as amoral in their entrepreneurial pursuit. They feel justified killing because decent people like them are struggling, while those no-good swingers always seem to have plenty of money. Their only concern about the murders they commit is finding enough money in two weeks to make a bid on the property they want to buy for their restaurant.

The humor found in the behavior of the Blands is never at the expense of their staid character. They never relish their villainy or truly engage in the spirit of the sexual come-ons that setup their victims. Watching Mary Bland woodenly recite lines as she role plays contrasts hilariously with the rampant antics of her horny johns. Since the Bland couple agreed that Mary would never have to have sex with her clients before her fellow aspiring restauranteur Paul brains them with a frying pan, this is a case of the end justifies the means for the Blands; trickle-down economics be damned.

Soon after the Blands have new locks installed in their apartment, the shady locksmith, Raoul, breaks in at night and discovers the body of one of their recent victims. Rather than report this crime to the police, Raoul partners with the Blands. Raoul figures out more ways to profit from the Blands’ victims than just emptying their wallets.

Robert Beltran is best known for his role as Commander Chakotay on the television series Star Trek: Voyager (1995–2001). As Raoul, he is the handsome and pushy presence that manages to prompt some promiscuity out of the prudish Mary Bland. This adds complications to the Blands’ scheme and relationship.

There are many other small parts played to hilarious, tasteless perfection. Garry Goodrow, John Shearin, Dan Barrows, Ed Begley, Jr., and Don Steele are awesomely obnoxious as swingers. John Paragon is one of my favorite characters as the loudmouth sex shop cashier who always speaks in a raised voice about the sexual aids the embarrassed Paul Bland must purchase for his new, moneymaking enterprise. Paragon also played “Breather,” the sweaty, bad joke-telling creep who frequently made phone calls to Cassandra Peterson’s Elvira during her Elvira’s Movie Macabre (1985–2011) horror-movie-hosting television show. Paragon would collaborate as a writer with Peterson for her Elvira feature films Elvira: Mistress of the Dark (1988) and Elvira’s Haunted Hills (2001).

The comedic edge in Eating Raoul is maintained by not lapsing into the physically surreal. All the humor is derived from the amoral behavior and/or the bad taste excesses of nearly all the characters. The character friction is between the couple with standards and a society that seems to have none. This still allows the film, as light as it is, to satirize the do-it-if-it-feels-good hangover of the sexual revolution, while also demonstrating that sexually uptight people can be even more amoral in their entrepreneurial ambitions.

Eating Raoul was a modest success and critically well received. Bartel and Woronov reprised their Bland characters for a cameo in the 1986 techno-horror film Chopping Mall. In 1989, a sequel to Eating Raoul, called Bland Ambition, was in the works by Bartel and his Eating Raoul co-writer, Richard Blackburn. Unfortunately, the production’s funding was dropped just before filming could begin. That’s a damned shame. I don’t know if Eating Raoul’s comedic special sauce could be reformulated for a sequel, but I was salivating to be served another course à la Bland.

MR. MOTO'S GAMBLE (1938)

Director: James Tinling

Writers: Charles Belden, Jerry Cady, based on the Mr. Moto character created by John P. Marquand

Producers: John Stone, Sol M. Wurtzel (uncredited)

Cast: Peter Lorre, Keye Luke, Maxie Rosenblum, Harold Huber, Lynn Bari, Dick Baldwin, Douglas Fowley, Jayne Regan, John Hamilton, George E. Stone, Bernard Nedell, Ward Bond, Charles Williams, Pierre Watkin, Lon Chaney, Jr., Paul Fix, Adrian Morris, (and uncredited cast) Olin Howard, Lester Dorr, Gladden James

Japanese sleuth Mr. Moto (Peter Lorre) is in San Francisco, California teaching a course in criminology. Among his pupils is Lee Chan (Keye Luke), the son of famed Honolulu, Hawaii Police Detective Charlie Chan. While Mr. Moto and Lee Chan attend a boxing match that will determine the next challenger to the current heavyweight champion, the knocked-out fighter dies. It is soon determined that the dead fighter (Russ Clark) was poisoned. As there were many heavy bets placed on the outcome of the fight, there is no shortage of suspects for Mr. Moto to sort through to help the police solve the case.

The Flashback Fanatic movie review

This third film in the Mr. Moto series from the 20th Century-Fox studio has a rather convoluted production history. This was originally intended as an installment in Fox’s popular series of Charlie Chan detective films starring Warner Oland. Charlie Chan at the Ringside began filming in January of 1938. Oland was going through a contentious divorce and was becoming more disenchanted with the studio. Production was halted when Warner Oland left the set never to return, either due to illness or a temperamental act of rebellion. Unfortunately, Oland caught pneumonia and passed away on August 6th, 1938. Without their star to finish portraying the Chinese detective hero, the studio salvaged their investment in the unfinished film by changing it to feature another East Asian sleuth, namely Mr. Moto of their burgeoning series starring Peter Lorre.

Now retitled Mr. Moto’s Gamble, this film was a change of pace for the Moto series. There are no international criminal schemes to foil or globe-hopping intrigue for Moto to deal with here. This time around, Mr. Moto is concerned with solving a murder mystery. The repurposed plot is a Charlie Chan case that is slightly reconfigured to have Moto do all the detective work that Chan was originally intended to do. To accommodate this, Mr. Moto is introduced instructing a criminology course in San Francisco. In an early instance of popular culture series crossovers, none other than Lee Chan (Keye Luke), Charlie Chan’s number one son, is one of Moto’s pupils.

In the first two Mr. Moto films, we were not made immediately aware of Moto’s goals and ethics. He seemed polite and mild-mannered while employing devious and deadly means to achieve his objectives. With this entry in the series, it is immediately established that Mr. Moto is one of the good guys. As a respected international detective, Moto is not only teaching a criminology course, but he is also assisting the police on this case, just as Charlie Chan had in numerous films.

While the action and scope of the plot have been dialed down for Mr. Moto to pinch hit for Charlie Chan in a more conventional murder mystery, we are still in good hands with Peter Lorre as our hero. In addition to his intelligence and criminology expertise, Lorre’s Mr. Moto still displays his usual humility stating that he and others are amateurs in comparison to the absent detective Charlie Chan. I have always felt such mild-mannered grace on Moto’s part demonstrates his confidence in his abilities far more effectively than all the bad boy antics of many so-called heroes in modern films. Moto’s humble attitude also sets up his enemies, as well as the audience, to be surprised by his tactics.

The need for Charlie Chan to be referenced at all is due to the inclusion of Chan’s son in the story. Keye Luke is very likable as he portrays Lee Chan’s typical youthful enthusiasm for crime-solving in this case of prizefighting homicide. As I recall, the master detective Charlie Chan would always try to reign in his well-meaning offspring’s rash actions, yet Lee always seemed to idolize his “pop.” It is amusing that, despite his father not being around, Lee is still contending with his father’s dismissive authority by pretending he went to San Francisco to study art instead of criminology.

Along with Lee Chan is his fellow criminology pupil and comedy relief figure, Horace “Knockout” Wellington. As played by former prize fighter Maxie Rosenbloom, Knockout is quite funny. His comedic role is immediately established as an ex-boxer and kleptomaniac taking criminology to help him solve cases of his own larceny, because he can’t remember who he steals from. Knockout becomes a handy plot device when he swipes an overcoat containing an important clue. Luke and Rosenbloom are a fun duo and play well off each other as they compete with Mr. Moto to solve the murder case. They would be the first of the comical cohorts to assist Moto in some of his adventures.

From the previous Thank You, Mr. Moto (1937), Jayne Regan returns to the series as a different and less central character, the spoiled rich girl Linda Benton trying to tempt aspiring boxer Bill Steele (Dick Baldwin) away from his gal, newspaper reporter Penny Kendall (Lynn Bari).

It is a nice touch that Bari’s Penny is concerned about the physical risks associated with her beau’s profession. We get reminders of how grueling and unglamorous the fight game can be.

Two Perry Whites are in the cast. John Hamilton is featured as Philip Benton, Linda Benton’s father and head of the corporation that owns the boxing arena. Hamilton was much more likably gruff as The Daily Planet newspaper editor Perry White in the 1950s Adventures of Superman television series (1952–58). Pierre Watkin, the first on-camera actor to play Perry White in the serials Superman (1948) and Atom Man vs. Superman (1950), has a bit part here as a district attorney.

Even if you don’t know his name, any vintage film fan will immediately recognize George E. Stone. He was a prolific character actor often turning up in old movies being sneaky, suspicious, or associating with the wrong crowd. Stone’s shifty screen persona was tempered a bit by his recurrent role as “The Runt,” the sidekick to the crime-solving hero Boston Blackie in a series from the Columbia Films studio. Here Stone plays Jerry Connors, the shady manager of murdered fighter Frankie Stanton.

Another hard-working actor at the time that would become quite a name was Ward Bond. Here he plays reigning heavyweight champion Biff Moran, who is scheduled to defend his title against Bill Steele. Bond was a USC college football teammate of John Wayne’s and would go on to co-star in plenty of The Duke’s films. Bond’s enormous filmography was capped off starring as Major Seth Adams in the Western television series Wagon Train (1957–61).

Keep your eyes peeled for Lon Chaney, Jr., allowed only two lines in his role as Joey, the intimidating-looking thug accompanying gambling gangster Nick Crowder (Douglas Fowley). After appearing in a ton of films as bit parts, supporting players, and occasional low-budget leads during the 1930s, Chaney was just one year away from his most acclaimed film role as Lennie in Of Mice and Men (1939). Of course, in the 1940s, Chaney would become a horror film staple for Universal Pictures.

Despite the unlucky hand dealt to 20th Century-Fox, their Mr. Moto’s Gamble must have paid off. The change of tone for this third Mr. Moto movie did not derail the popularity of the series. A fun cast helps this installment play well with its own distinctive charm. It is a fine example of the polished entertainments that the movie factories of classic Hollywood could crank out, even while improvising around unexpected production challenges.

COLOSSUS: THE FORBIN PROJECT (1970)

Director: Joseph Sargent

Writers: James Bridges adapting the 1966 novel Colossus by Dennis Feltham Jones

Producer: Stanley Chase

Cast: Eric Braeden, Susan Clark, Gordon Pinsent, William Schallert, Martin E. Brooks, Marion Ross, Georg Stanford Brown, Willard Sage, Alex Rodine, Dolph Sweet, Byron Morrow, James Hong, Sid McCoy, Paul Frees (Colossus voice), Leonid Rostoff, Robert Cornthwaite, Serge Tschernisch, Lew Brown, Tom Basham

Dr. Charles Forbin (Eric Braeden) is the creator of a supercomputer called Colossus. It independently controls the nuclear defenses of the United States. It has been created to demonstrate to the world that war is now futile because the swift and uncompromising logic of Colossus will retaliate against any aggression. Soon after the U.S. President’s (Gordon Pinsent) worldwide announcement of the activation of Colossus, the supercomputer detects another similar computer system in the Soviet Union and demands to be allowed to link with it. This is the first of the supercomputer’s commands that must be obeyed to keep it from firing nuclear missiles at human population centers.

The Flashback Fanatic movie review

Perhaps the most prescient science fiction film ever made, and one whose speculated perils now seem all too imminent, Colossus: The Forbin Project bombed at the box office. It proved how tough it usually was to sell serious sci-fi to the movie-going public. It also proved how commercial success is often no indication of a film’s merit.

Nowadays, since computers are embedded into practically every aspect of civilization, one may think that the public would be more amenable to the message of such a film. I rather doubt that. The only time a sci-fi message passes with the mainstream masses, it is buried in a bunch of stuff that is there just to look cool (action, CGI effects, heroic bluster, snarky attitudes, etc). That is the only stuff that registers with most viewers, while the message, sincere or otherwise, is ignored. To push the uncomfortable consequences of sentient technology into perceptions of the blissfully conformist and stubbornly ignorant is an uphill battle. To anyone with an attention span, watching Colossus: The Forbin Project today feels like a coldy calculated kick in the crotch.

This film was smart not to depict the creator of Colossus as being mad or a megalomaniac. Dr. Charles Forbin is practically a superman. (Okay, he is not quite perfect; he uses gin instead of vodka for his martinis.) Forbin is brilliant, confident, calm, handsome, polite, and decisive, yet never strident. That is why this film’s scenario feels so uncomfortable. You could never find a more ideal human being to be the creator of a supercomputer that controls nuclear defense systems with the intent of making war obsolete, yet even Forbin fails to foresee the menace his creation becomes.

The message here is that sentient technology will not be contained and controlled by anyone, no matter how smart or well-intentioned that technology’s creator may be. Wake up, folks! The tech moguls gunning for each other in our Wild West of data-driven commerce are not as noble as Dr. Charles Forbin. Do you really think they will ever grapple with the AI control issues in their still-not-sufficiently-regulated vanity projects? If they are ever compelled to do so, will it be in time?

With his birth name of Hans Gudegast, Eric Braeden had starred as the ongoing German antagonist Capt. Hans Dietrich in the World War II television series The Rat Patrol (1966–68). He would become a frequent guest star in a multitude of episodes in other series throughout the ’60s and ’70s. For Colossus: The Forbin Project, Hans Gudegast was prompted to change his name to the less Germanic-sounding Eric Braeden. These days, Braeden is certainly best known as starring in the role of Victor Newman for the past 44 years in the long-running CBS television network soap opera The Young and the Restless (1973 to present).

Braeden’s performance as Dr. Charles Forbin is perfect for a man who seems heroic without ever trying to be. In fact, the Forbin character is something of a paradox; he is the one chiefly responsible for the Colossus supercomputer threatening all of mankind, yet he manages to keep us from hating him. His project’s aim was certainly a noble one, and he has the best chance of figuring out how to defeat the menace he has created. Braeden’s Forbin has us rooting for him because he always seems capable and respectable. It really says something about an actor’s presence when they can command your attention without histrionics and maintain our respect, despite his character’s ingenious, humanity-threatening blunder.

Initially, Forbin seems intrigued, rather than concerned, about his creation’s first indications of sentience. Perhaps Forbin’s chief flaw is that his scientific ego probably never allowed for the possibility that there could ever be any eventuality in his project that would be beyond his intelligence to cope with. His team of fellow computer scientists also seems merely surprised and awed by the independent behavior of their handiwork. Their feelings soon turn to dread when Colossus displays a do-it-or-else attitude backed up with nukes.

Once Colossus starts making demands, it is quickly apparent that it intends to assert control over all mankind. The supercomputer also still needs its creator, at least for a while. A series of video cameras throughout the Colossus compound and monitors displaying the text of Colossus’s queries and commands allow Forbin to converse with his brainchild. Colossus demands that Forbin become a virtual prisoner, who is kept to a strict daily schedule and under constant surveillance. Forbin must suffer such indignities as beginning his day with exercise at 7:00 a.m. (I don’t even have a pulse that early!), Colossus critiquing his martini mixology, and even being watched on the crapper. The most amusing moments in the movie are Braeden trying to cooly negotiate with his computerized warden for a few small human privileges.

However, Forbin is a genius and manages to secure the most precious privilege of all: sex. He tells the computer that men require it for their emotional stability. Above all, sex must be allowed privacy. Under very strict conditions (spontaneity be damned), Colossus grants his creator scheduled, unmonitored bedroom time to unload his hard drive. Fortunately, the beautiful Dr. Cleo Markham (Susan Clark) is a computer technician on Forbin’s team willing to pose as his mistress for visits four times per week. In the hope of continuing to plot against Colossus, just prior to Forbin being put under the computer’s surveillance, he had arranged with Dr. Markham to cum and go as his outside world contact to secretly pass information between the sheets. Smooth, Forbin, smoooooth!

It is fun seeing previously platonic coworkers Forbin and Markham, under the surveillance of Colossus, trying to playact during their first “conjugal visit” as if they have already been involved in a long affair. This could become the world’s most nerve-wracking first date, yet Forbin and Markham seem to be trying to enjoy it and can appreciate the absurdity of this tricky situation that they have had to arrange.

That lightness of tone does not last for long. The consequences of Colossus and its demands escalate to domination of the whole world. I think the change from the original novel’s future setting to the 1970 film’s contemporary era is a wise one. This does not give the viewer any relief from serious consideration of a science fiction concept by relegating it to pure fantasy or a concern that can’t affect us anytime soon. Both nuclear weapons and computer technology were already prevalent and impacting the course of civilization.

Colossus: The Forbin Project refuses to stroke us with the comforting notion of humanity’s superiority (love, duty, spontaneity, creativity, and all that jazz) always winning out over unfeeling machine logic. The few people back in 1970 that watched this film didn’t walk out of the theater comforted by a neatly tied up Hollywood conclusion. They were still left to ponder the awful dilemma that the film’s story proposes. We have much less time today to ponder that dilemma. Oh hell, now I really need one of my perfect martinis!