Escape

DVD, Smallville S9 (Escape)

My concern was what had happened to Lois! She gets taken over (in yet another possession story), and the creature becomes itself when Clark turns up, but I thought it just changed her appearance, that was the impression I had, yet Clark burns it up in his fiery heat vision and we see there's nothing left of it. Hence my concern for poor Lois (I couldn't even tell if was played by Erica Durance or someone else, the makeup was so good), and it doesn't help that she isn't seen again until the last scene when they arrive at the Talon apartment. I must have missed her falling away and being replaced with the creature, that's my only explanation. Not that it made much sense to fight sound waves with fire… Aside from the opening where Chloe's on the phone to Clark, relaying crime hotspots to him so he can whizz round and stop them, I was quickly disappointed by the prospect of another super-soap episode, dedicated to romantic weekends away when we see that Chloe and Queen have gone to the same McDougal Inn Clark and Lois are heading for (although the explanation of how they both chose that destination was conceivable - Clark had seen Chloe's brochure and assumed it was Lois' and she wanted to go there), but then I hoped that at least it would turn into some old-fashioned comedy with the two couples trying to avoid each other, so I had to concede there was potential for levity - there was a bit of fun in the awkward breakfast conversation between Clark and Oliver, trying to make small talk about superhero matters in a half-embarrassed way, but it turns into a more traditional horror story for the series.

Still, at least the lovey-dovey stuff wasn't the focus after all, even if I hate it when magic is brought in as Clark's only other vulnerability apart from Kryptonite. It's such a weak angle to take, as magic can be anything, and maybe that's why it was brought into the Superman mythology, because he was practically invulnerable, but I can believe in Kryptonite based danger, not the magical, and they don't even attempt to link it to that when it's witchcraft and wizardry, so it was in the style of the older episodes, but without any interest. I assume this Silver Banshee was another of those characters from the comics that was pre-existing, otherwise why give it a name like that, and there were probably viewers in the know squealing with delight, having never thought such a character would ever show up on the series. But, as usual, not having any comics knowledge, I have no idea whatsoever. I liked her design, with the black and white look and homespun outfit that you could imagine had roots in Scottish culture of the distant centuries, but there was no character there, it was a simple case of possession, hopping from one female to the next. And it did present some amusing situations, but it's all stuff we've seen so many times before on this series and others (even 'Voyager' did an episode, 'Favourite Son,' about a race of women that lured men to their world only to drain the life out of them), so there wasn't anything new to recommend this version.

One scene that did appeal, at first, was Tess and Zod's meeting in Clark's barn. Not only does he look at a picture of Jonathan Kent (something he repeats in the house in the final scene, which makes me wonder if they're setting us up for a cameo from Mr. Kent at some point - or is my wishful thinking reading too much into it?), but his enmity with Tess turns into some sort of alliance. I thought she was in deadly opposition to him and his people, seeing them as the threat to the world that Clark exists to combat? She's either playing a dangerous game of luring Zod to his own destruction, or she's got some other motive we don't know. She's not an easy character to follow because she seems hellbent on one thing at one time, then acts differently another, so you're kept off-balance. Maybe that's the point, and I did at least like her cleverness in discovering if Zod's power really had returned, and her preparedness in having some Kryptonite handy with which to stop him from having the upper hand. Like Lex, she always plans ahead. The episode turned out quite differently to what I expected from the Zod story - from the way Clark was doing so much good in the city at the start, and the way Zod was hearing the people championing The Blur, I thought he was going to rush round sabotaging his rival's reputation while he was out of town (perhaps coming into conflict with John Jones who'd been left to patrol in Clark's absence), especially as he was dressed the same, so who could say he wasn't The Blur? Instead, Tess tries to convince him that Clark is one of his own.

As often happens, the episode had a basketful of inconsistencies and oddnesses: a storm is the reason Clark and Lois' booked room is unavailable, not because of a leak in the roof, but a leaky pipe. Not sure what could cause an internal pipe to leak because of an external storm, but I'm not a plumber, so maybe… Then there's things like Chloe going out for a calming walk in the woods, the next night on from hearing a weird cry and the host saying it could be from wolves! Okay, so the host (whom I assumed was going to be the murdered woman who came back from the dead in her family's legend, but wasn't), told Clark, not Chloe, but I'm sure it would have gotten around the whole inn. What about that painting? They say that a new portrait has been painted over it, but in fact an extra canvas has been pasted over it, which is quite different and less believable! Then there's Chloe's insistence on venturing further into the wood once she's seen a person with glowing eyes! Why would she do that, she should have turned tail and gone for backup, but her curiosity was too strong. It's sad to see her further descent, as we've already seen her appetite for surveillance, even of her friends, and now she's become a bit of a playgirl, wanting only fun without obligation or responsibility. Some might see her as growing up, but I would say it's like she's become more juvenile this season. At least she got in a good 'Star Wars' reference when talking about how she used to love Clark, "A long time ago, in a Smallville far, far away." Another low point of the season, is my ultimate opinion, maybe not as low as it could be.

**

Gun

GameCube, Gun (2005) game

The word I most associate with this game is 'disconnect.' It promises to be a lively, cowboy sim and ends up making you feel rather at arm's length as experiences go. Maybe cowboy 'sim' is pushing it a bit, it's really a story set in the Old West with a bit of an open world to explore, but the story is by far the main motivator, even though it's a bit hit and miss (more miss - and if it was taking part in a duel at high noon I wouldn't fancy its chances!). The game could have been so much more than it was, they'd created a good, solid base upon which to play, with a vast landscape for GameCube at the time, only rivalled by the huge 'Zelda: Twilight Princess' overworld in scope and scale, but as in so many cases (of the time), it was relatively empty as a play environment. It featured a fair few animals like buffalo, horses, birds… but where were deadly snakes or the opportunity to fish in the lake? You never feel at risk from wildlife and you never feel at risk from humans because you have nothing to lose. How involving it would have been if you'd had the option to really make your way in the world, your money actually being part of an economy so that you could buy and own a horse or take on a patch of land and build up your own ranch. If this was pillaged by raiders you'd feel so much more investment, even taking a regular job as a ranch hand on someone else's land could have been engrossing, but instead you're given the choice to take on side missions which you dutifully do, and then you're cut loose.

I can't deny that riding the trails and exploring the varied locales are interesting, but only to a point. They seem vast and epic when you don't know your way around, but you eventually get to know the layout and it holds few surprises. The fact that you can't take on your own smallholding is only one part of the disconnect: you don't own a horse, your ticket to fast travel between empty stretches of desert or hill, you just take any one that happen to be wandering around, whether wild or in the towns, no one seems to mind. This has the effect that you don't have a bond with your animal. You don't save for it, buy it, or name it. Lots of them die under you, but who cares, at most it's a minor annoyance that you have to run around until you stumble upon the next fully saddled, waiting equine. Unlike 'Zelda,' there's no way to call your horse if you get separated, or if one dies, so you find yourself stuck out in the wilderness with only your legs to get you anywhere. Even though there are plenty of the beasts around, it's still annoying to trudge around looking for one.

Your money has very little meaning, as evidenced by the Poker missions. I've never played Poker, I don't know how to, yet the game gave me no instructions, even in the instruction booklet, on how to play, and I still somehow managed to win all those missions (and a satisfying feeling it was, too - once I got into the rhythm of it, it was quite fun as a diversion, in spite of it being more of a gut instinct or blind chance rather than any skill or understanding). But you don't keep your winnings, you get a small payout for completing the mission, and that's all. But then there's not that much to spend your cash on anyway… Ammo, horses, health… it's all out there to be picked up, and it's only the few items that shopkeepers have in each town (or the Indian hunter in the wild), that give you reason to have money at all. Once you've bought everything, that's it. It's a small game in that respect, your actions without any real consequence. That goes for the relative ease of the game (it took only a few weeks to finish, with a few hours a week) - if you die, you simply restart the mission or even continue on from the point you got to in a mission.

I'm not saying I wanted it rock hard and unforgiving, but that there was jeopardy and loss to be avoided. You don't lose money in Poker, progress for dying, or anything else, you're encouraged to just hurry on with the next part of the game rather than revelling in a cowboy role and having an impact on your environment. Not to say I didn't enjoy some of the missions: the hunting quests where you had to seek out a rare animal, get close enough without spooking it, and take it down, could have been a bigger part of the game in itself and was another satisfying part to complete. And there are some nice moments, such as attacking the fort or driving cattle to Dodge in the dawn, but most of the time you're just running to places, then shooting, and you don't get an attachment to anything or anyone. Even your weapons are merely okay, easy to flip between, but tools and equipment should have created more connection with the land than they did - case in point being the shovel you buy to 'mine' gold, the extent of which means standing next to it and pressing a button.

I'm not saying it had to be a simulation so that you needed to work and pay your way (or steal and cheat, as you decide), but if you could have owned property, traded in horses or furs, and had more interaction with people other than just the few that have a pointer over their head it would have made for a far more immersive experience. Much of the time you're following your way to the next 'X' on the radar, so gameplay isn't as varied as you'd first expect and you learn the best thing to do is complete as many side quests as possible (hunting down wanted men, cattle drives, rescuing hostages, etc), to get cash, upgrade and buy out the shopkeepers in each area, then bash on with the story. There's little joy in experimenting or exploring, except for the initial journeying where this large world opens up for you - you soon discover it doesn't have that much within it. Gold to mine, rare animals to hunt and some pretty landscape and that's it. It's fair enough that it's an early example of the sandbox genre, but it's as if they put all their effort into creating this living, breathing, varied landscape, then decided to simply run a story through it rather than giving the player the freedom to truly experience life as a cowboy in the Old West. So much work must have gone into creating the world without making sure the gameplay lived up to it.

The disconnect is stronger because of the lack of investment: the character and his unknown origins are what drives the story, which is largely forgettable (I literally couldn't follow it from session of play to session of play because it didn't engage me), but although you have the illusion of a vast landscape to explore, you're fenced in by it being mostly empty with so little interaction (night and day only play a part in story or side quest, there's no in-game time passing). I like to get 100% on games if I can, but I was in half a mind to give it up once Magruder had been defeated (I liked that he's left to nature to be destroyed rather than your character doing all the things he'd like to), with the Poker and hunting missions still to do. But they were easier than I thought, and as I'd done all the rest, and I was glad I still had the option to continue in that world rather than the game coming to a stone dead end once the baddie had been beaten, I carried on, and in one evening polished it off - the only thing left to finish was getting one last gold rock out of forty-four, but as that didn't count towards the percentage rating and I wasn't going to spend hours trawling well-trodden paths for one solitary item, I left it with conscience clear and a certain amount of satisfaction in the completion.

As a whole, the game left me with a relatively good impression, if expectations are low (it is a console game, after all, and not designed for simulation purposes), but the tone and style of the game brought it down to 'average' for me. I've never been that big on third-person games (where you see the character in front of you), and often felt that the style would have suited a first-person much better. 'Hitman 2' was the same, in that controls are somewhat fiddly, you don't have the complete freedom of abandon to dash and jump as you would in a platform game, or the precision and reaction power you have in first person - sometimes you have to switch weapons quickly and efficiently or look around without the aid of a first person view, making it occasionally awkward. When this came out, few games on Nintendo systems were rated '18' ('Perfect Dark' being one notable example), and usually it's just an excuse for a lack of imagination (not in 'PD's case), with excessive violence/gore and bad language/innuendo there to remind you this is supposed to be an 'adult' experience instead of the required deep gameplay or mature reasoning, so it ends up feeling more juvenile than adult. It didn't put me off playing, but blasting people's heads off was unnecessary and one more thing to mark it down for. Adult intelligence should have been aimed at, rather than it merely being unsuitable for children.

Coming to it ten years after its release, when sandbox games are common, I'm sure it wouldn't stand out in the market today, and arriving late to the party as it did, at the tail end of the 'Cube generation, it may have slipped through the cracks. It had a lot of potential, and it is fascinating from a historical perspective to see how games of that time developed (I didn't play it back then), and it has plenty of nice little touches (such as being able to leap off your horse mid-gallop), but it doesn't really seem to know what it wants to be: a straight up narrative-driven FPS, an explorathon in the 'Zelda' mode, or something else - freedom or barriers, detail or simplicity… One thing I can say is the music is stirring and evocative, the main theme setting your journeying off in great style. With a little more thought and ingenuity, a decision to make it either more guided spectacle or go the other direction and be more fluid and open, and content suitable for a wider audience, this could have been something really special. As it is, for all its graphical excellence (people look almost real, the terrain is pretty realistic), and aural appeal, I'd rather watch a real Western.

**

Conspiracy

DVD, Smallville S9 (Conspiracy)

A weird shift in loyalties, or apparent shift, is what runs through this instalment: the Kandorians Clark helped make new lives as humans aren't happy about the 'tower of doom' being destroyed, though Clark won't admit that it was he who did it, so you can see that that bit of crucial information could return to bite him in future. Their loyalty is still to Zod because he's apparently been a charismatic and heroic leader (when it suited his purpose, which is power), but Zod comes around to rapprochement with Clark since being saved by him with a drop of his own blood after the maniac that was catching and sawing up Kandorians, knowing they were aliens, shoots him. Lois gets brownie points for trying to help Zod (who she thinks is an FBI agent), but Clark saves his life. As I expected, Zod then regains his powers, as how else was it going to come down to Clark versus Zod by end of season if he was either unable to restore his people's powers, or restored all their powers, overwhelming Clark. Predictable that it would be just him, though I didn't predict it. But now Zod has the upper hand ('you will believe a man can fly'), with Clark in the dark about his treacherous core. I suppose all the stuff about how great Zod's been to his followers was meant to sow seeds of doubt in Clark's mind so he'd be able to accept that Zod was now a changed man, an ally in their quest to conform and merge with society, but the writing wasn't strong enough to make that feel real.

Dr. Chisum, the guy carrying out butchery on Kandorians so he can provide irrefutable proof of alien life (which makes sense how?), wasn't the greatest villain and reminded me of countless forgettable freaks-of-the-week that didn't really have a character except for being driven slightly insane by either Kryptonite or some other source - in this case some of the Kandorians (the 'good' ones, too, that Clark had helped!), decided to carry out experiments on humans for no discernible reason, bringing Chisum back to life and mucking about with his brain. He, of course, had sent multiple letters to the Daily Planet asking them to accept his findings, which were filed in a box of whacko, filled with bundles of just such letters - why would a newspaper even keep them? They'd realistically just chuck them away as soon as read, but it's a point of the story that Zod has to find them so he can track down Chisum's lair. But the story is full of holes like that: the tower's destruction is considered a freak accident by the authorities, but how could they think that when Clark was hundreds of metres away blasting it with heat vision? Surely that much heat would have melted the debris and not even a normal fire would heat up rubble to such an extent! There's also Zod's claim that he came and cleaned up the evidence of the girl's disappearance so the police wouldn't be informed, but leaves a massive graffitied Kryptonian symbol that Chisum had sprayed, at the site! Not to mention that it's not the best example to show someone treating someone's wound by dripping their own blood on to it!

Okay, so these aren't so much narrative holes as common sense being ignored or maybe even nitpicking, to an extent (except for the letters, they wouldn't keep the letters…), but it was hardly the most inspiring episode of this season's saga. One point of interest was that Chloe is found to be embezzling money from LuthorCorp, which Tess finds out and puts Oliver on the case, who finds out that she's only 'borrowing' it to create a cargo crate full of Kryptonite weapons as insurance against the Kandorians. Nice idea, but it shows how far Chloe has fallen that she's willing to steal so much and secretly create a cache of weapons, but not only that, she's tracking every one she made fake IDs for, continuing her descent into a surveillance fiend of Lex Luthor proportions! Worse, it's all because she's  not able to accept trust in Clark as their only solution, so she's really diving down deep this season.

It was fitting that Chisum ends up electrocuting himself when his saw cuts through a power cable, but it would have been so much better if they'd had the saw crunch into Clark and fall apart, but they often miss such obvious opportunities for impressive visuals like that these days, instead the closeup of the drop of blood had to suffice. It was nice that Lois gives Zod a good impression of humanity's compassion, even though he's far too evil to ever really care, but at least he's less likely to just snuff her out (not that the series would ever allow that!). Lois just sort of bumbles around, gets kidnapped at gunpoint, fights the kidnapper, gets knocked out, all the usual cliches, with the only interesting moment happening at the end when the spot of blood she saved from the scene gets taken by The Wall, the chess piece-loving organisation from a few episodes ago. Whether it was intentional, or they stole it from her, I wasn't entirely sure, though they probably did, since they left a pawn in its place as a sign. The only other thing worthy of mention is that Zod goes undercover at the Daily Planet, using a pair of glasses as his disguise - just who would ever think that such a thing would be an effective cover…?Another Kandorian episode, another disappointing melange of plot bits. There's still time to fit in some good episodes, though…

**

Star Wars Episode VI: Return of The Jedi

DVD, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of The Jedi (1983) film

Where to begin with this film? Some may consider it the weakest of the Original Trilogy, and some may even have valid points, but for me, tinged, nay submerged; buried; enveloped in nostalgia, this is my favourite 'Star Wars' film, and even my favourite film of all time, almost the only film I ever considered 'near perfect' (the other being 'Star Trek: Insurrection,' though that was more of a momentary consideration, not an enduring experience, and is another story entirely, for another time). Why should it appeal so much to me, even above the oft-acknowledged 'The Empire Strikes Back'? For one thing, I don't have a problem with Ewoks (just as I didn't with Jar Jar), and for another, and most crucially, it was the first of the films that I actually saw (or so I believe from that dim and distant past where memory is all that survives in its plastic-wrapped carbonite hibernation until it gets reactivated and all I see is a big dark blur or a big light blur…). I associate it with Christmas because, in my mind, it was often on at that time, though it was probably only a couple of Christmases. My exact memory is of the excitement of the end of Boxing Day (I assume), when relatives had been and gone, after a fun-filled time of games and food, and we were allowed to watch 'Jedi' up until the Speeder Bike chase. I don't know if it was because the end was deemed unsuitably scary, or whether it was time for bed, but I remember a feeling of loss following the exhilaration of chase on the forest moon of Endor. Jabba The Hutt stuck in the mind, too!

The film can never hope to recapture that childish wonder for me now, especially as it's one of the films I've watched most in life (too much, as I got quite sick of the OT for parts of the last fifteen years), but it was intriguing to me to see what the original version was like, having indulged in the sharp, shiny Special Edition ever since I got hold of the videos in the late nineties. That original version definitely looks a lot less high quality and I can say without shame that the SE's are my preferred version (as long as it's not version 1.5 with Hayden Christensen booting out poor old Sebastian Shaw as ghost-Anakin! I've never even seen version 2.0 where Vader is reputedly given a "NOOOOOOOO" to make 'the circle complete' with 'Revenge of The Sith' - because everyone loves the subtlety in that scene where he realises Padme's dead, right…?). Aside from the magic of rekindling Christmas past, from the early nineties or even late eighties, what I like so much about this film is that everyone's so perfectly established, they all look great, the effects are the slickest they got, and the ending satisfies greatly. I need a good ending to my films: 'The Lord of The Rings' has it, 'The Bourne Ultimatum' has it, 'Star Trek: Generations' has it… and my favourite film has it, too: Darth Vader is redeemed through the willpower of his son, who refuses to give in to the easy, tempting future that is spread out for him by the Emperor, and instead is willing to die rather than go to the Dark Side. It's a wonderful moment of triumph matched only by the celebrations on Endor and around the galaxy, that the Galactic Empire is defeated!

Again, I have to say that the original version was superceded by the alterations to those last moments where we have an even more joyful, uplifting song of the Ewoks as we flash across the galaxy to planets throughout the saga, all celebrating the downfall of the oppressors, and then– dum de dum de dum de daddla daaaa daa, da da da daaaa da, daddle adaaa da, da da da daaaa… we're into John Williams' masterpiece of joy, the main theme of the series. Everyone's happy, it could have remained untouched forever and that would quite comfortably exist as the end for SW. But of course they made so much money, as does the merchandise that it was only a matter of time before Episode VII was conceived. Perhaps that will tell us what happened to all those many thousands of loyal Stormtroopers and officers of the line. How can it be that the entire Empire is defeated merely by taking out its biggest weapon and its top two leaders? You can think that it was as much the evil spirit of the Emperor keeping those forces together as it was military tactics (which might help to explain the generally clumsy, useless actions of the foot soldiers in all three films!), and, like Sauron's destruction at the end of 'The Return of The King,' his minions were scattered and panicked into disorder. I must admit, like most people I was always keen to see the story continue, but until recent years I never thought it would happen - sad then, that it comes when I'm no longer excited by the prospect, though still interested.

'The Force Awakens' can wait for its turn in my reviewing spotlight, because I'm here to examine 'Jedi,' and what makes it work or not work so well. I find it interesting that this was seemingly the beginning of the prequels' design to emulate scenes, scenarios or images from the OT, as we have several elements that are an obvious return to the first film. The biggest (literally), is the second armed and fully operational Death Star and the squadron of tiny ships sent to take it out. I used to think it was just the original Death Star which they'd collected up the bits of and were in the process of sticking back together, but that's not entirely practicable! It certainly has a cooler look this time what with it's deceptively incomplete construction, shown by reddish girders sticking skeletally out into space. We also see the two droids, the real stars, both running through a firefight again (as they did in the first ever scene), and recreating their desert wanderings on Tatooine (I don't think it was named in this film, but Luke admits he used to live there). Unlike the prequels, the exact details of planets, midiclorians and such aren't important, it's story that counts, not feeding the fans with their desire for dry detail, satiated at the expense of drama. I love that the pair of droids are integral to the plan, even though, as usual, C-3PO isn't in the know - at least he's become a much nicer character than he used to be. We also see Luke and Leia swing across like Tarzan and Jane, just as they did in the first film, though it's much more dramatic this time, escaping Jabba's Sail Barge which is about to explode (though you do wonder what the rope was attached to…).

Others aren't so much recreations as continuations, with visits to Yoda, Vader and Obi-Wan important to the plot. Yoda's death is probably the most affecting moment of the film, beautiful yet tragic, and I still marvel at his life, not even lifelikeness, but that he has a real life to him and it really is devastating when his time has come and he fades away. I might even suggest that he's not in the film enough, but if a character leaves you desperate for a few moments more with him then you know you're onto a winner. It is a little strange that Luke arrives just in time to see his Master die, but I think of Yoda as marshalling all his strength to keep going until his former protege arrived and what we see is him relaxing his hold on life: as he rightly says, he deserves to rest. I only hope that if they do bring him back for his own film or cameos, that they can recreate the life of that puppet that was so sorely lacking in Episodes II and III with the CGI version, and even Episode I, though it had reality to it, still didn't quite achieve the same level of realism as the production magicians of the 1980s did. He lives just long enough to give Luke the information that we already knew from the last film: that there is another. They don't keep us in artificial suspense a moment longer, Luke instantly seeing it's Leia and that she's his sister (not smirking any more are you, chap!), his insight serving him well (though it could have served him a lot better if he'd known that when he first met her!).

It's a good film for Leia (apart from the embarrassingly old-fashioned, "Hold me!" she cries, flinging herself into Han's arms in a whirl of emotion), not only does she get to show her diplomacy skills, winning over Wicket The Ewok, but has her share of action, taking out Jabba and being part of the 'Mission: Impossible' team that take out the gangster and all his court (the 'M:I' feel continues with the Death Star briefing on what appeared to be the stark white ship of Captain Antilles, which I hadn't noticed before - this viewing also made me realise that Luke transfers off an AT-AT on Endor when he meets Dad in that transparent corridor, I don't know why I never realised that previously!). She gets better hairstyles than she used to, too! I'd love to see how she fared as a Jedi… One plot hole, that's really rather insignificant in the grand scheme, but for which I couldn't help grimacing slightly, is her assertion that she saw the face of her Mother. Yes, we know that Padme died of a broken heart and gave up on life despite having twins to bring up (kind of selfish, really), and the babies were around just long enough that Leia might have some image, but I didn't get the impression from Episode III that she was very sad. More like distraught enough to die from it, when Leia's words always gave me the idea of a wistful Mother. She says she died when she was very young - well, yes, the day you were born! But none of this is the fault of 'Jedi,' I lay it squarely at the feet of III, just one more stupid decision that continues to haunt the franchise like a sick Sith ghost.

Wicket is about the only new supporting character and, like Billy Dee Williams before him, Warwick Davis should be applauded for being able to add to the mix without interfering in the superbly judged family chemistry that Luke, Leia, Han, Chewie and the droids have together. I never understood the hatred for the Ewoks in general - even as an adult, and understanding that they were a deliberate ploy to generate more cold, hard cash for Mr. Lucas because cute toys sell, I like them and their culture, it clashes so intensely with the high technology of the other races. Yes, they're laughable, on purpose, but they can also evoke sympathy, whether they're raising a chuckle by their terrified response to C-3PO's newfound powers or the real price of their combat with the Empire's forces - surprised by the sudden loss of one of his companions a lone Ewok grieves over his friend. They aren't just faceless cannon fodder and their inventiveness in taking on a far superior technological enemy is inspiring, far more than the Wookies in Episode III, which I felt tried to emulate the Endor battle with far less success  in structure and character. I also love their voices, facial features, and proud, fearless attitude. I think the main reason people are against them is because they show up the Stormtroopers for the lazy, useless slackers they are, but if you watch any of the OT films you come across the brainlessness of these troops which really are just cannon fodder, without any real character to them (and their armour squeaks like a mouse made of plastic!). It was also fun to discover in the credits that Kiran Shah (Frodo's scale double in 'LOTR'), played one of the Ewoks!

One of the strengths of the SW universe is the sheer variety and scale of the races and cultures embodied by their onscreen representatives, and that inventive alienness continues big time with Jabba's palace. Like the Mos Eisley Cantina of 'Star Wars,' this is a real hive of scum and villainy with no redeeming characters (except perhaps for the wildly upset potbellied keeper of the Rancor, who bursts into tears and is comforted by his skull-faced mate - even a hideous creature like the Rancor is loved by someone!), and it is into this mire of evil that Han's friends go to rescue him. Lando wears a rather dodgy mask, pointedly opening it up in case someone at the back didn't catch on that it is he (but who else would it be since he's basically the only token black character in the trilogy, like Leia is almost the only female - Oola the dancer and Mon Mothma hardly count! Mind you, this is really the Old West where women aren't supposed to be). Much credit to the makers and puppeteers of the vast Jabba creation, who not only looks and sounds unique, but is almost as impressive as Yoda. He totally sells the exotic weirdness of SW, perhaps more than any other creature, and is both disgusting and fascinating in equal measure (Deep Roy, who has many film roles, such as Keenser in the Abramsverse 'Star Trek' films, is credited as a Puppeteer, though I don't know if he had a hand in Jabba or if it was other outlandish creatures). He also gave us the important phrase "Bantha Pudu."

I can almost believe from the way he's presented as someone with a mischievous and cruel streak (such as throwing Oola to the Rancor), that he waits up every night with his group of gribblies to see if he can pull a practical, and lethal, joke on some unsuspecting denizen of his den, as how would he know that Boushh had come to release Han from his carbonite prison? He definitely has a life beyond the sum of his parts, and what's more, thanks to Jabba we get one of the best setups of the trilogy: as usual it's only R2-D2 that's in the know as Luke calmly gives the crime lord one last chance to save his slimy skin before unleashing the armed and fully operational powers of a Jedi Knight upon his gathering of misfits. It's such a great poker play, or seems to be, with this former farm boy threatening the vast and well-protected slug from his seemingly powerless position of prisoner, only to demonstrate his agility ability by turning things around at the last possible moment of being made to walk the plank above the Pit of Karkoon, otherwise known as Sarlaac (it always struck me as a rather empty addition to the fact that you're going to die: it will consume you for a thousand years - so it's a slow eater, you're not going to be able to stay alive long enough to experience that anyway!). For me, it is one of the two standout action sequences which stand this film apart, and not just because of the superbly excellent stunts, timing and breathtaking thrill of it all. It is the epitome of what SW is all about: teamwork, good humour and heroics in an otherworldly setting, against impossible odds, a group of disparate friends thrown together and taking on the galaxy.

If the Sail Barge sequence impresses with its visually appealing desert setting and full reality (none of your CGI halfheartedness here), it is the forest chase that really got my heart thumping when I was younger and remains possibly the best sequence I've ever seen on film, very few have ever come close to the perfection of the moment (I think of Chakotay being beamed away at the last half second as he rams his ship into the enemy in 'Caretaker,' the 'Voyager' pilot episode, one rare example of matching this, or that bit in 'M:I2' when Ethan rips off the mask of the South African baddie he'd been masquerading as, zipping along at pace as realisation hits his opponent!). It's the mix of speed, daring, and ultra-cool technology that can't be beaten (and what I believe they were trying to top with the Pod Race in Episode I, which was close, but not quite), that does the job: most people would probably choose a lightsaber as their tech of choice from SW, but I think it would be the Speeder Bike for me! Luke isn't a superhero, he's still basically a learner, but he's come on so far from the first film, his black, smart cut outfit and green lightsaber tell you he's confident in himself, without being arrogant. I have a theory about the lightsaber colours, which may or not be intended: red is Sith, blue is Jedi, we all know that, but the best colour by far is green, and it seems to stand for a Jedi Master. Yoda uses it in Episode II, Qui-Gon does so in Episode I, both considered Masters, and now that Luke is the only Jedi in existence, he gets the upgrade, too.

If Luke looks the part in 'Jedi,' the others do too, and to me it seems as if the wrinkles have finally been ironed out and everything is just right. Except perhaps for the Emperor, who's wrinkles get even wrinklier! For me, this is the definitive likeness of his evil highness, because unlike the unfinished version which appeared to be a puppet in Episode V, or the very prosthetic-like design for Episode III, the skin of Palpatine looks real. It's not shiny, the wrinkles aren't tailored and manicured, he has leathery, pale skin and an uncertain facial structure that we never fully see. It's also more stretchy than the taut version of III, and far superior in helping to create the character. It's also interesting to me to note that Vader's eyes, which in Episode IV were tinged with red, and in V appeared to be fully black, have a slight silvery sheen on the inside. Maybe it was just the lighting, but it's almost like you're seeing the tears of a broken man before we even see the redemptive, but fatal, decision he makes. C-3PO's eyes also seem more distinctive with those triple planes of light emanating out from each pupil, though R2 continues to suffer the indignity of having to be painted black for any scene in which he's in space, the blue panels obviously subject to faults with blue-screen techniques.

3PO, much more a member of the team in this one, has an interesting side story as being worshipped by the Ewoks. It does strike me as a little bit daft to be creeping around in a forest setting, all wearing camouflage in order to blend in, and then bringing along a blazingly shiny gold droid with you that could be seen a mile off! Not that I'd have had it any other way, as he's an important part of the family: not only is he fluent in six million languages, but he tells a great story with his own in-built sound effects, as wonderfully presented when he explains/performs the basics of the whole saga until that point! That's the great thing about this film, though, everyone gets their moment. It might have been nice to have Han and Lando together on the Millennium Falcon for the big offensive (if nothing else but that Lando didn't have to make that promise about not letting her get a scratch, which he blatantly fails to do!), especially as Han is almost an extra thumb for much of the film thanks to his recovery from the effects of hibernation sickness after being in carbonite for a while. Perhaps Boba Fett's demise could also have been a little more meaningful than being in the wrong place at the wrong time and being accidentally knocked into the pit by a half-blind Han, but I'm not entirely convinced by the love of his character - yes, he looks cool and I love his ship, but he hadn't been developed enough to be as big a part of the universe as people consider him to be.

Spare a thought for all those Empire staff, too, many of whom weren't that bright, may have been drafted from who knows how many worlds, and never had a say in anything. Perhaps there were cooks on the Death Star that would have loved to be part of the rebellion if only they hadn't had to make ten thousand sausage rolls by dinner time? Even the leaders don't appear to be all that bright: when that first commander responds to Vader's criticism his first words are that they'll complete the Death Star on time, then a few moments later he says the Emperor asks the impossible! I expect he was just a bit unnerved by the wheezing bucket head that was pointing a finger under his nose, even if he was more 'forgiving' than the Emperor. The Death Star attack was excellent, especially when they realise it's a trap, and it's an awesome display of Palpatine's foresight and planning that he uses all this for one simple purpose: to turn Luke to the Dark Side. But he couldn't foresee everything, and as Lando and his pug-faced chum burst out of the enveloping flames of the soon-to-be fireball, it creates an exhilarating finale that still has the power to effect a response in even the most jaded viewer. The real cost of it is seen in Luke's solemn duty, and it's with great pleasure that the final scenes are without dialogue, after, fittingly, Leia has the last word. Seeing Anakin blink into existence at the side of ghost-Obi-Wan and ghost-Yoda is the icing on the large cake of the galaxy that is 'Star Wars.' I would recommend the SE vastly, thanks to its sharpness, crispness and for the extra scenes included that probably integrate better than the other films, and for me it will always remain the best film ever.

*****

Persuasion

DVD, Smallville S9 (Persuasion)

They do love their holiday-themed episodes, don't they. We've already had Christmas and Halloween episodes, and now we get a Valentine's Day one. Initial impressions were that this was going to be a cutesy, silly, lovey-dovey, forgettable entry in the season, but it doesn't go quite that route, instead straddling both comedy and tragedy, though not necessarily in the right proportions: it has an identity crisis, one moment having a meteor dust-infected Lois dance round the Kent farmhouse in Martha's wedding dress, and in another, pitching Tess and Chloe against each other in frenetic female fistfight combat, another thing they love to do on this series. But it never has a balance, it's nasty enough to prevent the story being a lighthearted examination of love, as you might expect from a Valentine's Day scenario, but it is heavily comedic in the most old-fashioned way (both in terms of the series itself as we have another meteor-infecting cause like the old episodes had week to week, and in the real world as we see Lois turn into a fifties housewife!). It's not boring, it's ridiculous, but in an accepted way for the series, using its conventions; it moves the ongoing Kandorian story forward; and it alters the future we saw earlier in the season, as well as revealing who actually killed Jor-El.

If the comedy had been the full body of the episode, that would have been enough for me, and equally, if the dramatic side of the story, despite featuring the Kandorians and Zod quite heavily, had been focused upon, I'd have liked it better than the mishmash we got. Who would suggest a Valentine's Day episode in which Zod executes one of his own people at her request? Or to feature a violent, hand-to-hand bust-up? The tone didn't suit the polar opposites of the two stories. Yet it wasn't bad, either, it didn't fill me with irritation or make me pine for the good old days of Season 1 or 2 (except perhaps in the more singleminded execution of a narrative that they tended towards back then), and it was certainly a few notches up from the previous episode. The premise is fairly daft: during a Valentine's do on the street, Lois and Clark are both exposed to 'pixie dust' which is later explained as coming from a Smallville quarry, making it meteor dust, or Kryptonite to us these days. At first, I thought it was making people fall strongly in love with Clark, but you soon realise that it gives a moment of super-powered persuasion: Clark wants Lois to be more traditional, Chloe to watch out for him, and Emil to stop being so hyped up and relax. He also manages to persuade Zod to tell the truth about whether it was he that killed his Father, and even persuades himself to go and take revenge on Tess, whom Zod falsely claims was the one who committed the act.

So it was the perfect maguffin for a comedy episode, and it would have been fun to see Clark go round persuading more of the cast - maybe Oliver (who doesn't appear), could have more self-belief, or Tess might want to put Lois in charge of the Daily Planet, or any number of humorous scenarios. Instead it turns a disturbing corner when these conflicting interests that have such powerful persuasion behind them start to grate against each other. That was the way I thought it was going, with Chloe and Lois coming to verbal blows, but it didn't even go that route for long, culminating in Chloe risking her life to take out Tess' firewalls, even though the mogul says that would leave Clark open to even more danger: she doesn't want Clark to just be the saviour of Earth, she sees him as the leader of the Kandorians! Meanwhile, Clark is getting on their good sides by providing new identities for those that want them, though as it turns out, one of these is the weird-eyed Alia (who appears to wear huge blue contact lenses for some reason…), the killer of Jor-El, whose guilt makes her turn to Zod for death so that Clark will have justice. Interesting that Zod doesn't like doing it, though he does it anyway. It was a nice moment when we see Clark helping them in this way, and their grateful acceptance, showing that they don't have to turn into enemies.

Except that the 'Tower of Doom' is finished during the episode, and then promptly destroyed (in one of too many end scenes, making the episode drag a bit towards the conclusion, though the funeral procession was interesting from a Kryptonian culture point of view, even if it turns the episode into a Bonfire Night episode). I was surprised they did that, as it looked pretty close to the sight of the Twin Towers collapsing, even if it was done at night and we don't see the full collapse. Before this there's a good scene between Clark and Zod where they lay out where they stand, some truths get told and we see Clark's pain and how sometimes he wishes he could do the things Zod does, and I didn't even mind Callum Blue, which is something. The episode falls down in the solution to the pixie dust, with Chloe standing nearby with some Kryptonite - so Kryptonite neutralises Kryptonite? Didn't make sense. I suppose I should be grateful that it wasn't some other colour of the alien rock that started it all, as that was my first thought, since Clark's eyes usually flash with colour when the various types come into contact with him. Then again, maybe the dust was of purple Kryptonite as it did make people's eyes turn that colour for a moment.

Also, the big reset button is pushed once Lois comes round and realises what a fool she's been acting, calling up Martha Kent, her Dad, General Lane, and even her sister, though sadly it's all one-sided conversations and we don't get cameos from anyone. It's nice that they keep making these Martha references, so she's still part of the series in a small way, but it also cheats us out of a real appearance, or two. So Lois decides engagement and marriage isn't the thing to do right now, but what about her job? She quit the Planet, but we never hear anything about her getting her job back. The other story underlines the end of the episode with the future altered: with Alia dead, she won't be skewering Chloe in the future we saw, and the tentative alliance between Clark and the Kandorians seems to be at an end when he chooses to take out the tower, but peace between him and them was always going to be an interlude. It might be interesting to see how events play out this time round, now that things have changed. Or it might not. Either way, Season 9 continues to be better on average than most recent seasons, and it's only a strong finish in the latter part of the season that's required to make me consider this a keeper. It could have been a worse episode - at least it wasn't a proper Valentine story!

**

Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back

DVD, Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back (1980) film

My theory is that the phenomenon really began with this film. Sure, the first 'Star Wars' was a huge success, but this only encouraged George Lucas to make more of his universe. I was surprised to notice that this original version of the film, the cinematic release, even then had 'Episode V' emblazoned above the opening scroll as I had it in mind that, like Episode IV, it was only added with the Special Editions of the late nineties. It must have been a bit of an oddity to go and see a sequel to such a popular film, then find that rather than it being called Episode II or Part II, or whatever, it's clearly denoted as a fifth part! Mind you, I expect with all the excitement people wouldn't have paid all that much attention to the first few titles, they were all in high gear of anticipation for the coming film, no doubt. Still, it makes me think that this was the point at which Lucas' grand plans first really formulated: we see major revelations, the tone is much more serious, there's a greater sense of family and equality amongst the main characters, and the roles are more clearly defined. The first film set up the bowling alley, now this film begins the game. And I like that it is more serious in tone. That isn't to say it becomes po-faced like some of the prequels, it plays off of the fun between characters, whether that's C-3PO's constant worrying or Han's teasing of Leia, or even Yoda's joy at life at the expense of the moody Luke. Depth and seriousness don't preclude levity, and in fact this lightness only contrasts the hard moments of choice and revelation that Luke endures.

In the original 'Star Wars' Luke is practically a teenager, a boy who has yet to grow up, who craves adventure and excitement. Goodhearted, but he doesn't have the features of a real man inside him. 'Empire' is his journey to becoming a man, or a Jedi in the parlance of the story, leaving it to 'Return of The Jedi' to complete his arc and for him to take his rightful place. In the meantime, he gets tempted to take the quick, easy path, a shortcut to where he wants to be. I don't know whether this temptation would have been more effective if Darth Vader hadn't been his Father, or maybe hadn't revealed this fact yet. Would he have been more likely to accede to the villain's wishes if he hadn't had such a jolt of anguish at that key moment? Was that the real reason neither Obi-Wan nor Yoda told him of the man's true identity, in order to gut-punch him and force such strong emotions that he was concentrating on that, rather than on making a choice to become a Jedi the wrong way? It's an intriguing concept, but I don't think Luke would ever have joined the Dark Side, however the point had held, it's just that the revelation makes him almost suicidal with grief. I don't think he planned to escape, I think he fell back in loss, perhaps without really considering, and it was only the unique makeup of Cloud City that prevented him from plummeting to his doom.

Had Luke been killed, there was a safety clause in the contract as it is this film that we hear that he isn't the only one, that there is another. I suppose from the fact that it's Leia he reaches out to when dangling from an aerial below Cloud City, and that she is able to respond, we should be able to guess that it is she who has the potential for Jedi-dom. But was this always the plan, I have to wonder? It could just as easily have been someone we'd never met as one we had, and I still feel uncertain about how much Lucas knew about his story. In the first film he clearly has no plans to make Luke and Leia siblings, and there's absolutely no indication that Vader is his Father, which is why it feels like a bit of a retcon in the third film when it comes down to 'a certain point of view.' But in the second… After the success of 'Star Wars' they had to deliver, so how better than to make the man that we were told had killed Anakin Skywalker, be himself, it's just good writing? But at what point did Vader himself know? Obviously Luke made an impact because, like the movement of The One Ring in 'The Lord of The Rings,' the enemy knows the good side are on the move and have a plan. The Emperor himself has foreseen that Luke could destroy him. Did the Emperor let his servant, Vader, into the little detail that his child may have survived after all? The destruction of the Death Star at the assured, Force-guided hand of young Luke must have flagged him up as special. Perhaps it was a combination of all these factors that gave Vader reason to twig, though the same can't be said for him and Leia: once again they share scenes and neither ever shows hints of a familial connection.

Leia herself is at something of a disadvantage in this film, her royalty only worthy of passing mention now that her kingdom, Alderaan, has been atomised. It's difficult to be a Princess of somewhere that no longer exists. So she becomes a partly unwilling sidekick to space scoundrel Han Solo, though she continually refuses to acknowledge the bond between them, as true as Han's words are. It's not just her and Han, there's a strong sense of camaraderie between all in the Millennium Falcon, even 3PO, who gets a lot of good stuff to play even while he's mostly separated from his double-act partner, R2-D2. There's a sense in this film that though droids are still second-class creatures, barely one step up from the ship or facility computers, 3PO has become something more than that. I wouldn't say Han learns to respect him, but he does learn to listen to what he has to say (such as the problem with the Hyperdrive, or advice on what needs doing, which he relays discreetly to Chewbacca!), and both Leia and Chewie look out for him - she's very concerned when he goes missing on Cloud City, and Chewie makes the effort to search for him and carries him around, despite all his complaining. The rules of this universe are better established this time - in the first film 3PO sometimes has his eyes lit up, sometimes not, but in this we learn that when the eyes aren't lit, he can't see. Although he also calls the Princess both Leah and Leia, so things still aren't perfect!

The first film had a simpler narrative structure, but this one branches out so that, as well as seeing things from the villain's side, as before, we now have two hero strands to follow. Luke must separate from his friends in order to follow his own path to righteousness. I noted that in the opening crawl it talks of a 'band of rebels led by Luke Skywalker,' but it seems ridiculous that he could have risen to leader of the Rebel Alliance. I read it that he was a sort of cell leader of the Hoth group and that there are other cells in other places (otherwise where's Admiral Ackbar and such?). But even that doesn't make sense since it's General Rieekan who appears to have the authority, even granted that Luke's not around, especially as it's his orders that no ships leave until the shields are up (incidentally, when the roof of the snowy cave base starts to crumble, was that supposed to be Wampas trying to get in? I'm sure I read that in the photo novel - and just how many probe droids did the Empire deploy, as they're searching the entire galaxy and we see several arrive just for Hoth!). You'd think more than just Han would be wondering where Luke had got to if he was the actual leader of the outfit, so I would take it that it was more of a metaphorical leadership, that he's highly respected and his voice listened to, but that he isn't the literal leader. That said, he does display a maturity in battle, a willingness to change tactics and adapt to circumstances that is perhaps enhanced by The Force, as evidenced by the tow cables idea for taking down the AT-ATs (I guess their fall weakened the AT-ATs, as there's no other reason why the armour should suddenly become pregnable!). Even his face is different.

In fact Mark Hamill's face was literally altered since the previous film as he'd been in a car accident and, I believe, basically thought his career would be over. In fact, the subtle shift away from boyish handsomeness gave the character just the edge he needed, and they even cleverly incorporate the change into the story through not showing his face properly until he's had the fight with the Wampa (or 'Snow Creature' as the credits have it), which aids us in both seeing how far he's come in terms of his Jedi abilities, and how far he still has to go. I'll look at the changes between original and Special Edition versions later, but I think perhaps they got the improvements correct for the SE by showing the approaching Wampa more, as it does seem less tense in the original, even though you'd usually assume not seeing, just hearing the creature would generate more tension. That's one of the additions I appreciate, it may be that I'm so used to seeing it that way. I still think he should have used his lightsaber for warmth, either by cutting himself a cave in the snow, or maybe even by killing the Wampa and staying in its cave, though he was severely weakened in mind and body so he may not have been thinking straight. And that would have denied Han the chance to show his change of heart at the end of 'Star Wars' was more than a quick change as he performs his heroic act of friendship, rescuing his friend - plus we'd have been denied the sight of Han using a lightsaber when he cuts open the Tauntaun! Interestingly, each uses the other's weapon in this film, Luke making use of a blaster, though Han's reliance on it is proved false when Vader simply 'catches' the blasts in his hand.

Back to Luke, though: he demonstrates all the qualities a Jedi should have, and even if we can say that he mostly just interacts with R2 or Yoda and so doesn't have much opportunity to deal with people, isolated as he is (almost as if he's being set apart for his role as saviour of the galaxy), he still performs admirably, whether that's in the Battle of Hoth, giving the transports time to escape, or paying attention to Yoda. This little, dull-green puppet is the highlight of the film and even now I still marvel that such an incredible character could be created from a mould, with people operating and voicing him… He's so amazingly expressive: his eyes, the ears that bobble as he talks, the easy transition between funny little alien clown, to wise and ancient Jedi Master, a total triumph of technology. Unlike the CGI creation from Episodes II and III where all reality is lost and he seems somehow less real than a simple puppet. How is that possible? I don't know, but Frank Oz was a master of puppetry and voice acting and the character is written so well that we instantly warm to him and back-to-front talking, his. I got the impression that Yoda hadn't had so much fun in years when innocent mark Luke came down to his swampy planet for a visit (though the oddness of planets having one ecology points to the simplicity of the SW universe - first we had a desert planet, now a snow planet and a swamp planet, not to mention the coming forest moon although the change from desert to ice makes for a strong visual contrast - if 'Star Wars' was yellow, this film is definitely blue).

It was probably a combination between Yoda being cooped up on a dingy swampland for years, and a test to see how Luke would react to someone seemingly so unimportant and powerless - you can tell a lot about a person's character by how they treat those less powerful than themselves, not that Yoda needed to test him, as he'd been keeping an eye on him all his life, but perhaps it was for Luke's own benefit, to give him something to mull over: his own behaviour. Luke doesn't really excel, showing impatience, perhaps a hint of arrogance and later, despondency and a quick line in giving up. But what is a true hero without flaws? If he'd been perfect from the start where would the journey have been for us to watch, and we might well have wanted to see him fail, human nature to want the pompous to fall flat. Instead, we have an underdog feel, someone we can be disappointed in, but urge to do better in our own minds. Of course, as Obi-Wan says, "Was I any different when you taught me?" Hang on a minute… It was Qui-Gon Jinn who taught you, don't you remember? We can put this in the same category of age-related befuddlement that led him to forget he ever owned a droid, admitted in the previous film, except Yoda never contradicted him. Has his memory degraded too, or are they speaking loosely, not as in specifically an apprentice? Or perhaps we never saw the period in the prequels where Yoda did instruct him, besides moments of consultation. Another inconsistency is in his: "Do, or do not. There is no try" - it was said only the Sith deal in absolutes (which made no sense anyway). I can almost see the midiclorian connection when Yoda states life creates The Force and makes it grow...

It is a bit baffling that they didn't make Obi-Wan Yoda's padawan in the prequels (not to detract from Qui-Gon, one of my favourite characters of those films), apart from it being difficult, even in 1999, to make Yoda work in that way. Perhaps if they'd put all their effort into Yoda instead of the CG Jar Jar (and this is the only time you'll find me saying something negative about the over-maligned Gungan in these reviews), the roles might have been improved? Obi-Wan also claims to have been reckless, but in the reverently portrayed version we saw in the prequels the most outrageous he gets is telling badly timed witty observations in a slightly mock-serious, prim and proper tone! Maybe he remembers the good old days differently? It just goes to show that you never know who's watching you, as Luke finds out that this great Jedi Master has watched him all his life and seen the flaws in his character. Even then, Luke still seems to underestimate the power of The Force and its greatest practitioners, and this may be the reason he's so quick to go and face Vader with incomplete training (though we'd find out in the next film that it pretty much was complete after all - he returns to Dagobah to be told he's now ready!). It's also because he loves his friends and is willing to die for them, but he doesn't consider the greater good at that stage: that if he were to die then all hope of ending the Empire's grip on the galaxy would be for naught. Obi-Wan's obviously still kept in the dark about some things as Yoda has to tell him there's another candidate - you'd think he'd realise it must be Luke's sister, because I think he knew Padme had twins…

If Obi-Wan's memory is fairly easy to reconcile (he's an old duffer, let's be honest), gaps in a droid's aren't so easily dismissed. Step forward R2, the most resourceful piece of tech ever to have graced the big screen, and the true hero of the SW saga, always there to make sure everyone gets out of scrapes. It was nice to see even he isn't immune from mistakes, as shown by his connecting to a power socket instead of a computer interface on Cloud City. If that had happened before Dagobah we'd have grounds for saying certain parts of his experience might have been lost, but it happens after. So why doesn't he recognise the most famous Jedi in history? Was it his experience getting spat out by the swamp monster and covered in mud? Maybe the slime permeated his circuits and he was too busy feeling sorry for himself to let Luke in on the fact that this little goblin creature is actually the leader of the Jedi Order in exile! He even has a little fight with Yoda who bashes him with a stick in one of the most hilarious moments in the film. It's so sort of cute and whimsical, and I can imagine that Yoda enjoyed having a bit of fun, but R2 should have had more respect. For that matter, why did't he use the boosters we saw in Episode II to get him onto dry land instead of 'swimming' ashore? Don't tell me, he was out of fuel. Or maybe they didn't want to make a droid too powerful, a qualm they clearly didn't have in the prequels where R2 becomes almost a superhero… He's also got a bad case of black panels in the space scenes, just as in the first film (still an issue with blue screen, I would guess).

R2's colour change isn't the only inconsistency that it's fascinating to spot: this time, and I could be wrong, but Lord Vader's eyes, which had a definite red tint in the first film, appeared to be fully black. His look, though, iconic as it is, was further enhanced by a peek at his bald, damaged head. Aside from the wish to show us, and perhaps to give the new Admiral something to balk at, I don't quite see why he had that relaxation chamber, or whatever it was, open. The only other time we see him come out of it he's made sure his helmet is on nice and tight, so I assumed the chamber had its own atmosphere which enabled him to breathe outside of the bucket, but then… It's the needs of dramatic tension against the needs of consistency, and no doubt over the years people have come up with explanations for why he did that - I can't deny that it makes you even more intrigued by the character and want to see what horrors lie beneath the black plastic. The Empire's technological achievements are most impressive, not the least that they somehow reach Cloud City before the Falcon, even though, I think, the Falcon only decided to go there after leaving the Star Destroyer (again, ingenious way to escape, even if I find myself questioning that there were no windows which would show a large ship covering a portion of the bulkhead, or that they wouldn't have internal or external sensors to detect it, not to mention that the size of rubbish a Star Destroyer leaves is ridiculous!). There must be some limitations however - another is that ships have to be of a certain size to be able to use a cloaking device, something common in 'Star Trek,' but unseen (!), in SW, which I thought was an interesting comment.

Size, scope and scale are once again superbly provided to enhance the impression of a living, breathing universe which can hold huge creatures like Chewbacca, a Wampa, or even the cave-dwelling creature the Falcon lands inside, right down to the tiny Yoda or the skittering little black droids that could easily get lost under Vader's flowing black cloak! It continues to expand our imaginations of what's possible and acceptable in this environment, whether that be organic life or artificial constructs, such as Cloud City, hovering romantically in the Tabana gas clouds. There's no shortage of outlandish creatures, but they somehow all fit into the world they inhabit (even if the bounty hunter with the orange reptilian feet didn't look so real, like an alternately-coloured Gorn). One of the most popular bit parts in the saga makes his debut: Lobot! No, I'm joking (and in fact he only gets credited as 'Lando's Aide'), it's Boba Fett, complete with original menacing accent, unaltered (I can't help thinking of George Lucas whenever Vader says "Pray I don't alter it any further"). Like the first film, it's so easy to forget the impact the shapes and style of people and vehicles had, whether it's the camel-inspired wonder of the AT-ATs, Boba Fett's trojan helmet, or his Slave I, cunningly not fooled by the Falcon's escape tactic. It's all effortlessly cool, and easy to be blase about since I've seen these films so many times. Yet the design ethos makes it stay fresh, and although there remains a seventies look to the haircuts and some of the outfits (Han, for example), most of it is timeless because of its period setting (a period we don't even know about, being a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away).

Talking of Boba brings me to the difference between the original and SE versions. Now I'll always prefer the SEs since those are the ones I saw so much, but there's more than one version of those versions and what I did not like was the alterations they made to the original SEs. It began with this film, where they changed the voice of Boba to match the prequel version (stupid, unnecessary), as well as replacing the first image we ever had of The Emperor (still not named, I think). In the credits it says 'Voice of Emperor: Clive Revill,' which leads me to suspect it was a puppet, a good reason being the eyes didn't look right. But they replaced that with Ian McDiarmid (again, I respect his contribution to the character, indeed he is the character, but I don't see the need to paste over the original vision), and not just that, but with the unconvincing Episode III version of his makeup which never had the reality of 'Return of The Jedi's more 'bedded in' look. That's it, really, just minor irritations. This time… I loved the additions of all the Cloud City windows so you can see out a bit more, even though the action is good enough that you're not paying attention to the stark, white sets much, and the original print is noticeably rough around the edges which you notice on Hoth with the Snow Speeders, and the asteroid, although slicker than the first film it's still a little indistinct compared to the SE, though it looks astonishingly good as they flash close to the surface of that massive rock!

It's fun to see the stop-motion animation that was done on the Tauntauns, mixed with full-sized puppets, and is a definite improvement on the Dewbacks of 'Star Wars,' showing a steady development in technological knowhow in the crafting that would be taken to new heights in the third film. It makes me wish they'd continued to make SW films well into the eighties and nineties, about every three years, as it would have been fascinating to see how the SW look developed. It's this great stage upon which the story unfurls, Luke having to make a hard choice about his future that could affect the galaxy. But this is of secondary concern, as his friends are the ones he chooses to help, and it's nice that it worked out well for him overall. Yes, he loses his head (well, a hand), in the battle against Vader, but all except Han are safe and well by the end. It's not really an ending, being the middle piece of the story, the confrontation with his Father, the climax. It might have been even more dramatic if they'd left the film at the point where he leaps to his possible death, with Han off to see Jabba, encased in carbonite, what would happen next? But I like how the films play out so I wouldn't really want it changed (are you listening, George, no more changes, please!). The fight with Vader is a little more involved than the minor skirmish between Vader and Obi-Wan, but you get the sense that the Dark Lord of the Sith is holding back, testing Luke, which was fortuitous for him. The fight is as much about what Vader has to say as it is the physical exertion or manifestation of his powers and has far more bearing than many of the other eye-candy fights of the prequels.

Lando deserves some sort of mention, despite coming across as a bit of a flirt - like Han, his heart is in the right place, but only when pushed. While he thought he could get away with a reasonable deal and carry on with his mining operations he does what he's told, but as soon as things sway too far in the deal he realises he's basically lost everything and he'll be on the Empire's radar from now on so might as well side with the rebels. I also think he does feel guilt for setting Han up. It's good to meet an old buddy of Solo's, it gives us a little more backstory for the character and Lando is such a smooth operator that you want him to be with the good guys, using his nefarious skills and contacts against the establishment. He's not on the same magnitude of new characters as Yoda, but at this stage he's more interesting than the barely seen Emperor, and Boba Fett doesn't really get much of an opportunity to be a fully-fledged villain. Han gets the teasing he was doing to Luke played right back at him from Lando, who swiftly moves in on Leia, so it's good to see Han get some of his own medicine for a change. It's still uncomfortable to watch how much Luke enjoys the smooch from Leia, however, even though she was only doing it to spite Han. One line from that recovery scene that I'd misheard for years, was Han saying Luke looked strong enough to tear the ears off a Gundark - since Episode I I'd always thought it was a Gungan, some neat little reference that they'd chosen as Jar Jar's species!

It struck me as I watched this film that they're never going to be fortunate enough to find such a perfect group of actors that clicked so well and made it about them rather than the supporting cast of special effects. Today, such effects are ten a penny, and could never enthral to the same degree unless they were able to come up with the kind of plot twists and character that they achieved with this film, and I don't think that's possible, at least not for anyone that saw films like this first. New generations will fall under the spell of whatever influences they're subjected to in their formative years, and part of the joy of such films is recapturing a different time of your life, when you were young enough to be affected, before too many stories had breached the freshness of them to reach the magnitude of the old. I still remember the first time I saw this film, beginning one afternoon around Christmas time, the sun setting and the dark drawing around me before the film had reached its conclusion. Yet even this story wasn't really new, it was the archetypal hero's journey, interwoven with family politics and the fight for freedom. What made the difference was its success in character; in keeping humour, but not at the expense of, or undercutting the drama; of showing us possibilities, the age-old struggle for supremacy between right and wrong, between fast thrills and shortcuts to success, and wise consideration, taking time to think things through. It was visually, emotionally and narratively rewarding, and even better, it wasn't over, the story was left to be continued in one more film: the saga would carry on!

*****

Deckwatch

DVD, Starsky & Hutch S3 (Deckwatch)

On the bang or whimper scale, I'd have to say this is more on the whimper end for a season finale, but it's not as bad as I thought. That's high praise considering I've often had this in mind as one of the worst episodes of the season and series, and one of Paul Michael Glaser's worst excesses as a Director. But in fact I remembered very little going in so I was pleasantly surprised to find that there's actually a degree of tension for much of the episode, which is about a love-starved merchant marine that likes to leave a dead girl in every port. And seeing as he comes back to land every nine months of seafaring, and has been doing so for years, that's a lot of dead women in his wake - it's become a habit. What had become a habit for Glaser was his insistence on slowing down the pace for artistic shots and generally turning in a highly orchestrated style when the series was used to flowing. This wouldn't be his last directing duty on the series, with both series stars getting a shot or two in Season 4, so I surmise that the powers above were suitably content with what the pair of them cooked up, or it was written into their contract to keep them happy. But I've often felt this was Glaser's worst episode, the drawn-out shots, the slow pace and the bogging down of what tends to be an energetic, light TV series. It's actually not that bad, even though we're informed of the style right from that opening shot of Hector 'Harry' Salidas walking ominously towards camera on the dock (the street lighting with a diffused glow that I associate with the visual style of Season 4).

When we visit a bar for Harry to pick up his first victim, Madelaine, the camera roves around the room, following first one patron, then another, as if picking out a target, as Harry was doing, and even though this isn't typical of the series I quite liked the movement in the makeup of the shot. I also liked the shot where Starsky, Hutch and Detective Peterson are all in perspective, their heads crammed into the frame so that we have Starsky looking straight at us, Peterson in profile looking to the left of the screen, and Hutch in profile looking to the right. Visual gimmickry, perhaps, but it made for some interest. There's also fun with the two conversations being held onscreen at the same time, Starsky trying to make a deal with Chicky, the student who saw hiding Harry (though you couldn't do the plot point now where Harry asks him to get an ambulance so he'd go off and he could escape, as he'd just pop his mobile phone out and save all the trouble), while Hutch is trying to have a chat with Laura, his latest female friend, or not. It's no surprise when Laura is the next victim, Harry having broken into her place at random, where her aged Mother, Hannah, is also taken hostage. As usual it's all a bit contrived, but that doesn't matter, really. A tense standoff ensues where Hutch ends up going in against the better judgement of Captain Dobey, posing as Laura's brother, I think, who's a doctor. Or was he playing her boyfriend? Surely there would be photos of him in the house if he was a sibling?

The good stuff comes as Starsky has to scale the house to infiltrate and wait outside the door for Hutch's signal, which is disguised as three reasons he gives to Harry which is actually a count of three, and the guy's blasted away. That's it, really, there isn't much plot, it's more like 'Shoot-Out' from Season 1, where a group of hostages were stuck in a room. The tension isn't always as strong as it could be, but perhaps that's because it's a bright sunny day as opposed to a dark and stormy night, with moments that dissipate the tension, such as Harry recognising Hutch to be a cop, and old Hannah remains pretty composed for the duration of her ordeal. She's certainly the best character, in the same way that Gramps was in the previous episode, 'Quadromania.' At first you're not sure if she's fully with it, maybe her lack of mobility is just one aspect of her age, but although she accepts the situation, she seems sharper than on first appearance. Not only that, but she treats Harry as a human being, not a fearful monster, and retains compassion for him in spite of his threats and the knife he keeps near her throat. It's the shot moving in on her face, half-concealed in the doorway of the kitchen that stays with you, reading pity and sadness at Harry's inevitable death (which was another well-directed moment, Starsky blasting away, the chair tipping backward, firing through the chair, then slowly moving in on the corpse). It's difficult to feel sorry for a man that's killed in every port, no matter how tough his life was, but the music does a good job of attempting to invoke that response, where sometimes the death of a bad guy isn't given even a moment's thought.

The music is generally good, not stock music as sometimes seems to take the majority of the running time, but original, and adding to the tension, whether that's the urgency of Laura's run to the store to get what Harry wants, or the rising temperature in the house, even the lack of music for scenes, the clock ticking remorselessly by, both playing with the ambivalence of time, the fact that such a sound is homely, and a reminder that Hutch has only one hour before SWAT will be sent in. He doesn't have a very high opinion of them, saying everyone will get killed, but surely it was a much riskier strategy to go in undercover as a doctor, a paramedic, and try to sew up Harry's bleeding leg! Police officers have to have some medical training, but even so… It's a weird episode to finish out a season with: no Huggy, Dobey only gets a cameo, none of the lightness and jollity we enjoy between S&H, a far more serious style of storytelling. It's often that way when one of the stars directs, and Starsky definitely has a wholly serious edge to him throughout - I've said it before, but I think directing carries with it such responsibility and myriad details to remember that it's difficult for them to play things lightly and much easier to be a straightforward action hero with a purpose since that's exactly what they're doing in marshalling all the forces of a TV show.

Because of that tone, which doesn't allow for fun, it's an ignoble end to the season (and certainly in the negative vein of viewing the city, as we come to understand Harry's seedy life, see him crawling through cardboard boxes, hiding under bridges etc…), but even more so by the complete shift in the final scene where S&H, Hannah and Laura are all hanging out in the kitchen of the house at a later date - why did S&H go round there, to make things better or to finish things out, because through the banter we hear that Laura wants to cool things off with Hutch because she can't take being so close to the life of a policeman (though it may be that she has issues with commitment in general as we heard from her Mother that it usually ends up with Hannah playing cards with the latest boyfriend in the kitchen). Starsky's playing cards with Hannah, there's a lemon meringue that, ordinarily, you'd know was going right in someone's face, but when it happens, Starsky getting it by mistake when it was aimed at Hutch, complete with 'wa wa wa waaa' music, it's so out of touch with the rest of the episode as to be jarring! I'm not suggesting there should have been a funeral for Harry which they all attend, but some thoughtful conclusion would have been preferable (along the lines of 'Manchild On The Streets'), to all out silliness. Fine, if it fits the episode, but this time it really didn't.

Since most of the time is spent in a room in a house, there isn't much to take note of, nor are there the usual lists of references and points of interest to examine. One thing I did think was that this was a rare episode with an all-new guest cast, since I didn't recognise anyone in particular. So many this season have featured returning faces from roles in previous seasons, but my theory was proved wrong: there are in fact two that crop up, Carole Mallory as the short-lived Madelaine (she was Sue Bellamy in Season 1's 'A Coffin For Starsky'), and Wendell Powell as Patrolman #2 (he was Intern in 'Manchild On The Streets'). I did, in fact, recognise Susan French (Hannah Kanen), as being a face I knew - she had a role on 'TNG' ('Man of The People'). Chicky's the closest thing to a wacky character, but it's understated and he's more of an argumentative teen than over-the-top personality. Starsky's stunt double does the roof-based derring-do, you can tell; the area where Harry hides out looks similar to where Hutch used to live with ramshackle houses near a bridge, but it might not be the same; there's a mention of County General (the hospital Hutch is said to work for); and I noticed both a Dad with a baby carrier on his back and that Hannah had an electric wheelchair, making me wonder if these were new things of the day.

At the end of the episode I find myself reflecting: where are the speeding villains? Where the fun banter, the buddy-buddy horseplay? The fights and the running gags? Where's Huggy and Dobey? The question I'm left with at the end of Season 3 is 'where are Starsky and Hutch now?' A TV series in those days wasn't meant to change and grow, it was meant to give just exactly what was expected, to dip into week after week, or whenever you felt like it. You knew what you were going to get. So there was no grand plan for a season, stories got written, were produced and then watched, it was still all throwaway entertainment before the age of home video. Would anything have been done differently if they'd been allowed to peer into the future and see people watching even today? Probably not. There might have been a greater sense of pressure to get things right, but it's day to day living that we all worry about, not the future. It would have been nice to have a big, season-ending cliffhanger, or a massive, exciting story to finish with, but it was really just another episode. If we're looking at how the season panned out as a whole, I'd have to say that I enjoyed it more than expected. I had low expectations for many of the episodes, which was a factor - I wasn't all that keen on starting the season since I've always considered it the weakest of the four.

When I think back over the line-up, I have to admit that I mostly enjoyed what I watched, whether it was a great story or not, it was simply a pleasure to be going through the series again and spending time with S&H in their native habitat. I think also that watching with attention turned up to eleven for the purposes of writing reviews helped to make it more rewarding, as even the weaker episodes had points of interest to discuss or the opportunity to relay my impressions and thoughts. The good ones still stand out: 'The Crying Child,' 'The Heroes,' 'The Plague Part II,' 'Manchild On The Streets,' 'The Heavyweight,' 'The Trap,' 'Foxy Lady' and 'Partners.' So nothing really changed in my broad perspective of which worked best, but in viewing the lesser stories I found that they generally worked much better than memory allowed. I'd still have to say this is likely to be the worst season, but that's more to do with tone and being different to the others, even though it was less serious than I had it in mind to be. Season 4 returned to a better composition of drama and comedy (even if it took things too far sometimes), but I can give Season 3 a little more respect than I used to think it warranted, simply for getting me back in that world, with those characters.

**

Quadromania

DVD, Starsky & Hutch S3 (Quadromania)

Why is it that this is one of the lowest points of the season? I can't blame it on the main stars, who appear remarkably chipper for this stage of the season, but that might be because they're looking forward to their coming break, or it could be that some personal interest had been injected into the final two episodes (Paul Michael Glaser was about to direct the finale and David Soul had what I think may have been his then-wife, Lynne Marta, on this episode). It's a mixture of things, really, stemming from the cast, mostly: Huggy and Dobey only get cameos, S&H aren't together as much as they would be normally so there's less banter, and two of the main guest cast, Kingston and KC, are pointless, having no impact on the story at all. It's also a weak example of the series' horror sub-genre, and back to portraying the city at its depressing worst: grimy, rubbish-strewn back streets, closed-down theatres, prostitutes and pushers… Worst of all, nothing seems to affect anybody! S&H aren't there decrying the state of their beat and resolving to sort it out, the tone is fairly light and the setting is just a backdrop for the murders committed by an unhinged, failed actor. Despite having several descriptions, and despite taking people out for a spin with no real aim (as Starsky does to the 'old woman'), none of the cabbies, aside from those that had quit, not even Starsky masquerading as one, ever seem worried that one of the fares they pick up could be the murderer, instead a bored attitude is prevalent - you even get one doomed cabbie expressing surprise to his old passenger that he'd go for a walk in such an area. He has the same profile as one description of the murderer, yet the cabbie never twigs before he kills him!

Starsky's the biggest culprit, and even if you take into account that he's got distractions (you'd think he'd be used to staying out all night on operations, yet he becomes bored and tired, impairing his professional judgement and putting himself at risk through his ambivalence), such as KC McBride, another cabbie (female, obviously), who shows zero worries about the murders of cab drivers, despite being one, and only seems concerned with playing her guitar and singing country! Aside from the usual problem I have with S&H's lack of professionalism when dealing with the opposite sex, she could have been used in some way, but instead it feels like a guest spot purely to promote the actress' song! Was it some kind of backscratching deal? Something to sweeten Soul? Admittedly, I don't know the details, but it's so bizarre that she just shows up here and there to sing 'Nobody Loves You Quite Like You Do' (revealed in the end credits as written by Lynne Marta and Yancy Burns, and sung by Lynne Marta). Why would they go to the trouble of pointing this out so officially unless it was a song she'd written that she wanted to advertise and they had to credit it? It's not even part of the story, except to set up Huggy's brief cameo at the end, where he comes into the Metro Cab Company (one of five or six such companies in the city), under the alter ego of Buck 'The Panhandle' Bear, complete with dodgy Texan drawl (or something like it). About the only good thing to come out of the episode is that his scene in cowboy getup and shades would replace the murky opening credits clip of him walking into a dodgy film, which was from the pilot and had been used ever since!

I suppose we should be grateful that they didn't go the obvious route and have KC be the victim who Lionel Fitzgerald III attacks, though I can only assume we're supposed to be worried that she could be a potential victim, except for the fact we're not given any reason to care as she's a one-note character (except for vocally, of course). But while she doesn't live up to the usual stereotype (and actually helps Hutch rush to the rescue without his quite realising what was going on, so he leaves his battered car at the side of a road with the door open - mind you, no one would want to steal it!), her boss, Kingston, is the epitome of a crazy Jamaican stereotype, throwing bananas around, listening to reggae records, speaking in rhyme. It would have been far more interesting to match him up with Huggy and for them to have a rhyme-off rivalry, something to add a dash of humour and colour to a bleak and dreary episode. I think it was because of the episode's mood that Kingston didn't really fit, being too rambunctious and crazy, fitting the template of the series' wacky characters. At the same time, the mood was all over the place and was unsuccessful in crafting a brooding atmosphere of doom that had been accomplished to a slightly better degree in earlier stories like 'Murder Ward' or 'Satan's Witches.'

Richard Lynch's Shakespeare-quoting, wronged actor, who's taking his vengeance on cabbies after one caused the injuries that lost him his arm and his assured mobility, and presumably ended a promising career, isn't quite hammy enough (think General Chang in 'Star Trek VI' as the perfect example of what he could have been), or on the other end of the scale, subtle enough. I did feel a slight sympathy for him, but that should have been played up so that if we could have seen a nasty cabbie, mistreating people and generally being uncaring and harsh, we might actually have started out thinking this partially disabled man who killed him, was almost a hero, a Dark Knight of the streets. But we never meet any memorable cabbies, they're plain and uninterested, and in spite of the premise of Fitzgerald dressing up as if to play Shakespearean roles before going out and committing murder, the roles were muted and, apart from the old woman, his final persona, weren't memorable or shocking. Somehow, with his metallic false arm prosthetic, Fitzgerald should have struck terror into his victims, but, since he could only limp along slowly, he wasn't much of a threat except to the unwary. Maybe that's the lesson of the story, to keep your wits about you and don't take everything at face value? He just came across as a sub-Bond henchman, less interesting even than that sounds. I'm not sure how they could have improved the character, except for my previous suggestion, and maybe making him more of 'sound and fury' rather than 'signifying nothing'…

The one good role in the episode is well played by the ubiquitous John McLiam as the original Lionel Fitzgerald, or Gramps to his grandson. McLiam can be seen in just about everything (he'd already appeared on this series in Season 1, getting 'Special Guest Star' billing in 'A Coffin For Starsky,' the episode I generally credit as being the first horror episode of the series), probably because he was such a good actor, and he continues that tradition here as the blind Grandfather whose career, and that of his son, were legendary, and who tragically believes his grandson is living up to the family name and continuing the tradition, until S&H pour cold water on his pride and tell him the Savoy Theatre that Fitzgerald III claims to be starring at, was closed a year ago. It's tragic because his joy at his grandson's success seems about the only thing left he has to enjoy, though he's sharp-witted and his hearing is almost superhuman, he has allowed his wishes and hopes to cloud his rationality. You have to wonder why he never asked to come along and sit in the theatre at one of Lionel's performances, or how he can aim a cushion at Hutch so accurately when he tries to snoop into another room, yet doesn't ask his grandson what he's done when he crushes a glass in his metal hand! It's all down to wish fulfilment, which Lionel Jr. plays to in the most callous way. The only time I felt sympathy for the villain was when he answers his Grandfather's questions about where he's been going if not to perform, and he says to see films that play until dawn, a refuge for the misfits, the deserted, the crippled.

If only this mood could have been wrapped across the whole episode and made it a deeper experience - though the Bard is quoted, nothing else of the inspiration or drama is used from the most famous playwright in history. Just imagine if the murders had been done in the manner of characters from the play, so that if we saw him dressed in a certain way we'd guess how the next cabbie would die. That at least would have been inventive, but instead it's all rather lacking in any atmosphere of suspense. Even when Starsky's unknowingly the next victim and could get a claw round the neck at any moment, because he's so tired and bored out of his mind there's very little tension - I think the music played a part in making it all seem uninspired, despite a promisingly ominous opening with harpsichord sounds and interesting direction, focusing on the killer's shuffling feet. The flipping between night and day was also jarring - I never liked night scenes on the series, right from the start, the pilot episode began in darkness, and the cameras of the time couldn't pick up enough light, so that, while the city lights or car lights looked good, the general feeling was of claustrophobia and vagueness, not crisp, sharp imagery, which added to a sense of slapdash in the production values. I've often felt the same way whenever they've done night shooting, though it can be used effectively sometimes. Here, Starsky takes the old lady out for a drive and it's pitch black, then when we return to them in another scene it's daylight and I didn't get the impression he'd been driving around for that long!

Fittingly, for an episode that returns to the negative side of looking at the city; unkempt; down and outs; driving around in Hutch's battered old car (when they're not in yellow taxi cabs); backward rather than bustling; dull, washed out; this is just another mystery in which the audience has the answers long before S&H do, waiting for them to catch up, and one of them is in trouble, will the other get there in time? In other words, the ending makes no sense: the attack happens, with little suspense, except a tiny moment when Hutch drives off after convincing his partner to take a last fare. But the attack comes, and somehow Fitzgerald's able to strike Starsky so hard he bleeds down one side (even though he was struck on the other side of the face!), and staggers around drunk for five minutes as his inevitable doom approaches in a grotesque, makeup-peeling frenzy (did he throw his cane around a corner? He chucks it in rage and I thought Starsky had gone round the side, but we see it land near him!). How could Starsky have been hit so hard with one blow that he wasn't knocked out, but can stagger around for so long - they were clearly trying to emulate the scene in 'Murder Ward' where Hutch was drugged and struggles to escape in a nightmarish sequence with real danger. In that case it made sense, in this, it didn't. The lens seemed to be covered in vaseline or something to blur it out, adding even more to the impression of dirt and grime that permeates the episode, making it unpleasant to watch.

Fitzgerald, despite his oddness, never really seemed mad, just angry and taking it out, so bearing down on his prey wasn't that of the terrifyingly insane, even though he wasn't of fully sound mind. For an example of such a scene done to perfection, see 'The Avenger' in Season 4! I half thought KC was going to run down Fitzgerald, the way the scene was directed, with a slow-motion view of the cab ramming towards us with the horn blaring. So it was a bit of an anti-climax when they just stop and get out. I'm not saying I wanted the bad guy to be run over, but it was an interesting choice. The direction had several shots like that that made me take notice, but it couldn't save the story or lack of drive (ironic in an episode based around taxis!). It's not even that it was badly written in the dialogue department (my favourite being when Starsky's brought in a drug dealer who was his fare and says they can't hold him for wearing a medallion, so he replies "How about impersonating a medicine cabinet with intent to sell?"), it's just that an intriguing premise, a disturbed mind who is also a master of disguise, was dropped like a dud and meanders around with irrelevant nonsense such as Kingston and KC, and as far as I can work out, the title isn't even a word. It's not scary, just plain disturbing, and even the makeup looks like it was applied by a blind artist. Which it was, supposedly.

At least there are plenty of references: aside from the Shakespeare quotes, Gramps says Lionel is "Playing King Lear, not Auntie Mame" (a character which inspired the 'TNG' character, Lwaxana Troi - that's not the only 'Star Trek' connection, though, as both Richard Lynch and John McLiam had been in 'TNG,' the 'Gambit' two-parter and 'Who Watches The Watchers,' respectively). The film, 'The Toulouse-Lautrec Story' is mentioned when Starsky's trying to get a description of a cabbie's last fare before his murder, Dobey mentions it being on 'The Late Show,' and Fitzgerald says he could have been 'an Olivier, a Barrymore, a Keane,' as well as making up a review of 'Macbeth' for Gramps. Kingston's singing 'Papa's Got a Brand New Bag' when Hutch visits, and I recognised the corridor outside Gramps' place as the same layout (though much dirtied up), as the hotel seen in 'Foxy Lady.' There are certainly some odd characters, too, with Baker, the overenthusiastic young cop, Kingston the rhyming cab company owner, and country-singing KC McBride all falling into that category to various degrees. This was Lynne Marta's third (and, I think, final), appearance on the series, having been in both previous seasons, though this time she's awarded 'Special Guest Star' status where John McLiam's was revoked for this second role. The only other familiar face was Carboni, played by Jerome Guardino whom I recognised as the bus driver from Season 2's 'Nightmare.'

**