Imagin Sentai Kamen Rider Den-O (2007-08)

Dennis Potter’s Cold Lazarus (1996)

The second part of Potter's final work requires you to have seen all four episodes of the first part, Karaoke (HERE). I won't drop ruinous spoilers about CL's plot, but I'll need to refer to Karaoke, so please think carefully before reading anything beyond this point if you've any interest in watching Karaoke and have yet to do so.

As we saw previously, armed with the knowledge of his failing heath, Daniel Feeld prepared for the future of the people he felt close to. In contrast, the author was unprepared for what awaited him in his own future, 374 years after his death.

The introduction of cryogenics into Karaoke's plot may have seemed odd in isolation, but it makes sense when you consider CL. Scientists unearth the frozen remains of Daniel and plug him into a machine that translates activity in his brain into visual images that can be recorded and analysed by a people who've lost sight of what it means to be human. Their society is in chaos and, for reasons that aren't fully explained, their historical records are inadequate. They believe that memories of the past may help them better understand their present.

The fact that memory, being the subjective construct that it is, is an inherently unreliable source of information is addressed a little but not enough to build a foundation for the entire process to stand solidly on. Similar criticisms can be applied to various parts of CL's plot. At times its reach overextends the length of its component parts, and the whole suffers. When it isn't doing that, when it sticks to more relatable concerns, it explores the nature of free will and deepens our understanding of why Daniel was the person he was in Karaoke.

The scientists are an odd bunch, only a few of whom are any good at acting, but luckily it's those few that get the most screen time. They're at the mercy of a hedonistic evil bitch named Martina Masdon, played with zeal by Diane Ladd. Martina is one of the most memorable characters, and yet many of her scenes are largely superfluous. I'm unsure if that was a kind of commentary in itself, but I'm convinced that some of the subtext is purposefully imbalanced.

On the flip side, some views are so blatant that they're like a punch in the face. I can imagine the author having one final laugh as he contemplated the BBC's reaction to a story about a corporate attempt to control a dying writer's mind.

4 episodes, approx 50 minutes each.

3½ button pushers out of 5

Dennis Potter’s Karaoke (1996)

The first part of Potter's final work was broadcast two years after his death. He wrote it with the full knowledge that he was dying, which makes viewing it a deeply poignant experience. You might expect the situation to have pushed him towards tapping into the bleaker side of his talent, but there's a huge amount of darkly wry humour in the script. There's also a feeling that inevitability can't be conquered, so it should be thoroughly mocked instead, as best we can.

The main protagonist is a screenwriter named Daniel Feeld. Daniel, played with intensity by Albert Finney, is diagnosed with the same painful medical condition that killed Potter in real life, so it's fair to assume that it's at least partly autobiographical in nature. His most recent work is causing grief for both himself and the director of the TV adaptation (Richard E. Grant). It's fiction but, as is already established, fiction often has a modicum of reality in it.

When Daniel, in his real life, encounters people who resemble his written characters he begins to feel somehow responsible for what happens to them.

The director, the one filming Daniel's burgeoning fiction, is tethered to a single scene that repeats over and over for both him and us. As he struggles to make sense of it, the wider story and the parts each person plays within it, like we do in our actual lives everyday, begins to resonate more and more, driven forward by Daniel's need to prevent his words becoming someone else's reality.

The journey toward completion sends tendrils of consequence into the fates of everyone involved. The people at the centre of the drama obviously get it the worst, but even the ones on the periphery are affected.

I mentioned at the beginning that Karaoke is the first part of Potter's final work. The second part is Cold Lazarus (see HERE), which came out the same year.

4 episodes, approx 50 minutes each.

4 artistic temperaments out of 5

Kamen Rider Blade (2004-05)

Hammer House of Horror: Volume 1 of 4 (1980)

The House That Bled to Death

A haunted house story set in a modest home on a typical suburban street. The studio uses the lower budget to its best advantage; the familiarity of the surroundings being more relatable to many folks than an ancient and gothic castle on a hill. It strives for a perpetual sinister aura but falls a little short of the mark most the time... until the blood! — 2½ leaky pipes out of 5 —

The Silent Scream

Hammer Films regular Peter Cushing brings his talents to the small screen alongside another fine actor, Brian Cox. Cushing is a pet store owner. Cox is an ex-con, fresh from the big house.
The camerawork is solid throughout and there's an occasional dramatic flair from the lighting department.
It's certainty a horrifying experience for the characters, but is more of a suspense story for the viewer, even providing some audible triggers that move us closer to the edge of our seats each time they ring out. — 4 natural instincts out of 5 —

The Two Faces of Evil

Director Alan Gibson had worked for Hammer more than once prior to The Two Faces, but the single episode is without a doubt his best work for the studio. It's really amazing. I'll even go so far as to say it's almost Nic Roeg quality at times.
The hospital setting was beautifully lit and shot; the blinding white existing alongside the gray and black was reflective of certain parts of the story. I found the daylight scenes there intensely creepy; a feeling brought on by more than just the canted camera angles.
Like the previous episode, it's not cut from the traditional gothic horror template. It's a psychological terror experienced by a woman in her role as wife and mother as the world she knows and trusts begins to change. — 4 upturns out of 5 —

3 episodes, approx 51 minutes each.

HANNIBAL: SEASON TWO [2014]

"The most beautiful quality of a true friendship
is to understand and be understood with absolute clarity."

Bryan Fuller's grotesquely beautiful psychological horror series Hannibal returns for a second helping of disturbed mind-games, exquisitely prepared stomach-turning feasts and bloody nails digging dip into the troubled psyche of it's characters and viewers alike.  Inspired by novelist Thomas Harris' characters from Red Dragon & Hannibal, the series builds into a discomforting world of it's own and seems to transform into a creature far apart from the films most folks are quick to compare it to.  

The season starts off, directly where the previous year left off at, with the heavily damaged crime scene profiler Will Graham (Hugh Dancy) incarcerated in a mental hospital, framed for the atrociously violent crimes that his brilliantly manipulative flesh-eating psychiatrist Dr. Hannibal Lecter (Mads Mikkelsen) set him up for.  Not a single soul believes Graham (who questions himself) is innocent, even his boss Jack Crawford (Laurence Fishburne) who blames his own agenda for pushing Will too far into the minds of the deranged killers they chase.  Here we're invested in a clever reflection of what is come, as we see Graham & Lecter speak to each other through bars, politely playing each other ever so carefully with love, hate and everything in between.   The tale digs deep in to a some darkly rich storytelling about human weaknesses, coming to terms with oneself, unhealthy obsession and where the thin line between friends and enemies is drawn.  

With a lesser talented cast, some of the more absurd moments wouldn't really work but with Fuller's imagination it places it in a nightmarish world we know doesn't exist but it feels right somewhere deep within our minds.  Unlike last year, we aren't so focused on individual cases and instead the writing is more interested in digging into the psychological aspects of the characters and how they slowly twist and turn into what Dr. Lecter wants them to be.  It's a difficult but successful task to make us believe Hannibal is as intelligent as he is but what is even more impressive is we never feel the other characters are dim-witted to not even suspect him in the slightest.

   

The show is wise to rarely ever show Hannibal's murders committed on-screen, so we do feel something for him but when we do catch the odd glimpse here and there, we're absolutely terrified and shocked at the violence erupting from the normally calm-mannered man we've grown attached to.  That's not to say there isn't any violence because the blood comes in the gallons, so much that even as a horror-hound myself, I find myself very uneasy in several moments.  It's like they break your mind down with psychological horror then absolutely traumatize you with graphic violence and to say the least, it works so very, very well.  This is especially proven in the heart-breaking bloodbath of a season finale that will leave you aghast and most likely very upset long after the credits have rolled.

The cinematic photography, on-the-nose editing, moody yet vibrant color palette and effectively frightening soundscapes from composer Brian Reitzell, makes Hannibal a rarity among the legions of more accessible shows it bumps shoulders with.  It's the cable TV show snuck onto basic cable that critics and fans alike have constantly called the best series on network television that no one's watching.  Seeing as season one and two combined play like a first chapter, it seems to be just the appetizer to what can only be an intriguing main course.  

4  man-eating pigs out of 5

Engine Sentai Go-Onger (2008-09)