For the week of July 6th, the Criterion Collection is bringing Byron Haskin and George Pal's iconic sci-fi classic The War of the Worlds to Blu-ray. Since it was first serialized in 1897, H.G. Wells's novella of the same name has thrilled audiences, and with good reason: it's the first great alien invasion story. Without this, we'd not have Independence Day or even something like Predator, so vividly does Wells chart the horrifying after-effects of a Martian invasion. This 1953 film adaptation is still the best interpretation of the source material (sorry, Steven and Tom) because of the way it cannily splits the different between '50s special-effects reel and Wells's darker sociopolitical undertones. When people think of '50s sci-fi, they've often got this one in mind. Haskin and Pal layer in one trick after another, from matte paintings to trick photography to creature prosthetics to scale models. Yes, you can sometimes see the seams - part of the problem with a 4K restoration is that it reveals the wires holding up the spaceships or the Plexiglas frames that exaggerate the alien death-ray effects - but if anything, the imperfections lend the proceedings such charm. Haskin and Pal want to delight us with their effects, with the intensity of the Technicolor photography. And those enjoyable trappings end up luring us in for something all the more sinister. The War of the Worlds might look like poppy fluff, but despite the presence of square-jawed lead Gene Barry, this is no rah-rah experience. The film wastes no time in showing how hopelessly outgunned humanity is. Heck, in one thrilling montage, the aliens pretty much divide and conquer, forcing the remaining survivors into hiding. The most impactful sequence in the film isn't one of alien devastation. No, it's late in the third act, when Barry is staggering through a ruined town, and the humans around him all have descended into either madness or savagery. Like Wells, this picture knows that the greatest enemy to humanity is itself. We need but a push to destroy ourselves. And in a still-wrenching twist, we're denied the satisfaction of victory. The aliens might lose, but we certainly can't take credit.
In his Blu-ray review, Svet Atanasov wrote that he is "quite certain now that [his] recent viewing experience was shared by a lot of folks when they went to see Haskin's film in the early '50s. The film's bright colors and flashy action are just a cinematic facade that hides an entirely legit scenario, and once the mind registers that it is so it actually enthusiastically goes to work to assist Haskin and his crew. Folks, let me rephrase this so that it is perfectly clear why Haskin's film will remain a timeless classic. The depiction of the mayhem that starts in the small Californian town and then spreads across the world is practically irrelevant because it is not what actually makes the film so effective. Your mind does. The film just feeds it the right visual information to begin contemplating some really awful possibilities and then produces a bunch of different fireworks. This type of cinematic entertainment, where the mind is allowed to be in charge, just cannot age."
From Universal Studios Home Entertainment comes the animated sequel Trolls World Tour. Now, I have not seen the first Trolls. I'm only marginally familiar with the preexisting Troll Dolls as a concept. (They have gems in their belly buttons, maybe? And also their hair looks like Henry Spencer but for kids?) As such, I figured I'd be at a slight disadvantage going into Trolls World Tour blind. I was not prepared, however, for the profound psychic and temporal dislocation I experienced, and almost from the jump. Ostensibly, this new picture follows Trolls leads Branch (Justin Timberlake) and Poppy (Anna Kendrick) as they try to save the six Troll realms from the rock-and-roll-crazy Barb (Rachel Bloom), but I largely pieced that summary together from Wikipedia and the back of the Blu-ray box. While you're watching it, Trolls World Tour erupts as pure sensory overload, a barrage of songs and stunts and gags and set changes that are less "entertainment" than a full-out assault. In the span of like five minutes, we careen from a talking cloud to a cute-dog meme to a Trolls-universe rendition of Daft Punk's "One More Time" to Barb's Rock Troll convoy (which has the visual tenor of Immortan Joe's posse from Mad Max: Fury Road) to Branch and Poppy launching into a jukebox medley centering around at least five different pop songs to a diamond crusted Troll having a baby voiced by Kenan Thompson? And the film never really deviates from that manic pace over the remaining eighty-five-or-so minutes. It is so violently incoherent that I almost found myself admiring the breakneck abandon on display. At times, the proceedings almost seem avant garde - all conventional narrative signifiers get overwhelmed by sound, light, spectacle, like we're looking at the most expensive Nam June Paik installation ever commissioned. Do I wish the film weren't so insistent on selling me Trolls merch and Spotify Premium memberships? Without question. And the film wears on you after a while. I think Sam Rockwell's drawing Country Troll Hickory comes off best because Rockwell enters and exits the film as an oasis of understated, easygoing chill. But I'll take art in the middle of commerce wherever I can find it, and especially if it's unintentionally sourced.
Martin Liebman's Blu-ray review noted that "the movie does a fairly good job of finding a balance between the extremes on both sides, the happy-go-lucky colorful trolls and the dour, sour, blandly colored Bergens. It's never much of a secret how the film will play out and what it will have to say from a thematic perspective, particularly as it focuses on one troll who has lost his color and spark -- literally and figuratively -- and a Bergen who finds her cheer with a little help from the trolls. In fact, one can almost not help but to feel for the Bergens on some level. Sure they're the big bad villainous goofs with crooked teeth, but their actions are at least understandable. They just want to be happy. They're just going about it the wrong way, and they've never been told differently or had the opportunity to learn from their prey, not just consume them. Yet it's all very transparent as the movie maneuvers through the usual animated fare ebbs and flows of high points and low points, a roller coaster of manufactured emotions and plot contrivances that open up new character details while still remaining firmly entrenched in cliché."