Monthly Archives: April 2021

Thus Yawned Zarathustra

Stowaway review: Netflix's sci-fi drama is oddly down to Earth - Polygon

Stowaway should have sneaked onto a better movie.

It’s not that Netflix’s latest is a bad film. But given the stars, given the studio, given the zeitgeist of space travel, you can’t help but hear “Hollywood, we have a problem” echoing in the background of this sluggish thriller.

Which is a shame, given the terrific cast and the streaming service’s hot streak (it led all studios with 36 Oscar nominations and nearly doubled its wins with seven statuettes Sunday). And space travel — to Mars, no less — is enjoying a second heyday thanks to NASA’s latest triumph and SpaceX’s high-profile achievements.

Alas, Stowaway succumbs to melodramatic tropes and a plot twist that requires booster rockets to suspend disbelief.

Toni Collette, Anna Kendrick and Daniel Dae Kim (Lost) star as three astronauts bound for a two-year trek to Mars when they discover an unplanned passenger (Shamier Anderson) aboard who jeopardizes the mission and their lives.

The movie’s premise alone is a heavy payload. The film largely glosses over how a technical engineer would get stuck aboard the rocket (did no one share the launch date with him? Would no one have noticed the engineer did not report back to duty?). And while Stowaway focuses on a queasy moral dilemma — there’s oxygen enough for only three passengers — the film never quite seems quite up to answering it.

Collette plays Marina Barnett, the commanding officer of the mission, backed up by medical officer Zoe Levenson (Kendrick) and biologist Kim (Kim). All share in a terrific opening sequence, in which they try to keep their nerves — and stomachs — in check as their ship rattles and moans into the final frontier. It’s as good as many finales of other space films. If only it could muster as much drama at story’s end.

But Stowaway hits a lull after Marina discovers injured technician Michael (Anderson), who drops unconscious from an overhead compartment like a bleeding Tribble in Star Trek. We learn that Michael lives alone with his sister, whom he saved from a fire that killed his parents, and had no intention of space travel.

Thus begins the emotional ordeal of the astronauts. Kim is pragmatic, and argues there is no room for a literal hanger-on. He even offers Michael a suicide injection as a solution. Levenson is the astronaut with a heart of gold, who refuses to take die for an answer. Barnett is caught in between — and downright weepy over the conundrum.

And it’s those tears that help undermine the movie. Recent space travel movies like Gravity, The Martian and Interstellar found their footing on a similar theme: Resolution in the face of death. That determination is missing here, and Stowaway leaves audiences to ask: What do you do with a fourth occupant of a three-person raft?

There’s a solution, of course, but it will take a risky maneuver to get more oxygen to the crippled ship. Two astronauts must scale a towering tether to pierce an oxygen tank and extract air. But here, too, Stowaway isn’t sure what to do with the drama. The astronauts must face deadly drops thanks to the “artificial gravity” of the spaceship. But vertigo is a lot more palpable in natural gravity, in a real-world setting like a mountain or skyscraper. A starry backdrop isn’t as squeamish as director Joe Penna would have us believe.

There are nice touches throughout Stowaway, including some surprising character fates and a chance to hear Collette’s rarely-used native Australian accent. Anderson is a solid newcomer.

But given all the promising ingredients of the film, viewers may find themselves feeling like they rode steerage in Stowaway.

The Old Timey Vault

(From Big Earl Troglin)

Look closer, the sign reads: WEAR A MASK OR GO TO JAIL. Spanish flu, California 1918…

American troops on board a landing craft heading for the beaches at Oran in Algeria during Operation ‘Torch,’ November 1942

Marilyn Monroe

Mark Twain was actually a redhead (1870)

Ernest Hemingway and his son Gregory, Sun Valley, Idaho. October, 1941

A Female Air Force Service Pilot during World War II

Oldest known photograph of a tornado (1884)

Berlin 1961, Escape to the West

Night fishing in Hawaii (1948)

Five-year-old Albert Einstein (1884)

Ford Model T – U.S. Postal Service Truck, 1925

16 year old German soldier crying after being captured by the Allies, 1945

John F. Kennedy , winner of the Democratic Nomination for Congress in the 11th Massachusetts District, relaxes with his dog on June 22, 1946

The final photo

Cinema Is Dead. Long Live Cinema!

When Arclight Cinemas and Pacific Theaters announced this week that they were shuttering 16 locations and more than 300 screens — including the venerable Cinerama Dome in Hollywood — you could nearly hear the city deflate like a punctured balloon.

The news was met with a collective gasp and sob that Los Angeles hasn’t felt since Kobe’s death, and filmmakers and fans alike took to social media to pay respects, swap memories and brainstorm ideas to rescue the 1963 treasure, the world’s first all-concrete geodesic dome.

The L.A. Times fretted the movie house’s fate. “Could some craven developer turn it into an upscale steakhouse?” the paper asked. Its answer: probably not. The Cinerama Dome’s designation as L.A. Historic-Cultural Monument No. 659 likely would make turning the theater into a strip mall a litigious mess.

But the Times missed the bigger story. Namely, that it’s a small miracle the Dome could stay in business as long as it did. Because for a quarter-century, the Cinerama Dome and 40,000 theaters across the country were peddling a product that garnered middling American interest at best.

An exhaustive analysis by the box office website the-numbers.com paints the haunting portrait. When adjusted for inflations, the movie industry has been swimming in stagnant waters.

Starting in 1995, the analysis found Americans bought 1.22 billion movie tickets. In 2019 — the last full Hollywood season before the pandemic — that number was 1.23 billion. The heyday came in 2002, when Americans bought 1.58 billion tickets, according to the site.

But the numbers never dramatically spiked or plummeted. Here are the five-year totals:

  • 1995: 1.22 billion
  • 2000: 1.38 billion
  • 2005: 1.37 billion
  • 2010: 1.32 billion
  • 2015: 1.32 billion
  • 2020: 223.86 million (pandemic ravaged)

Meanwhile, the study found ticket prices climbed from $4.35 a ticket in 1995 to $9.16 in 2019. That’s still wildly affordable for out-of-the-home entertainment. And it propelled box office totals from $5.31 billion in 1995 to $11.25 billion in 2019, according to the data.

But inflation is not a business strategy. And the pandemic has left theater chains reeling. AMC, the nations largest, asked shareholders this week to authorize another 500 million shares for issue, but promises it won’t take them up on those sales until next year at the earliest. Analysts say that’s promising news for the company, but hardly a cure-all.

AMC recently reopened in key markets Los Angeles and New York after local officials lifted public health restrictions, “but it still has a long way to go to make up for the losses it and other theater operators endured in the last year,” Barron’s said in an article Friday.

So what’s the larger fix? A summer box-office resurgence notwithstanding, Hollywood may have to either increase prices for a ticket dramatically, make fewer films, or both.

Would a Broadway approach to business make movies a must-see event again? Of course, the pandemic has the stage in a standing eight-count as well: Fine and performing arts industries lost almost 1.4 million jobs and $42.5 billion in sales from just April 1 through July 31, according to NBC News.

Or do sporting events hold the key? Professional athletics have managed to stay afloat through COVID-19. But they rely heavily on television revenues, a taproot the movie business is loathe to mine.

Regardless, Tinseltown needs a hero like the ones it loves to splash on celluloid.

Otherwise there may really be no business like show business.