Back again for more, are you? Well, we’ll soon fix that! This week, we’re hip-deep in “I Made From TV Love You!”, the series about movies inspired by their small-screen counterparts. And this week . . . ah, Jay Ward. You fine animator, you. You gave us so much. Rock and Bullwinkle. Dudley Do-right. Mr. Peabody and Sherman. Endless Captain Crunch commercials. So . . . what happened? What took you from pithy wit and subtle political satire to and brain-dead Tarzan parody? This show didn’t even last a year . . . and yet three decades later, The All-Conquering Mouse decided that the world needed a live-action big-screen resurrection of this sad aberration, starring no less than a very oiled-up Brendan Fraser. Oh, Jay. Sweet, sweet Jay. We’ll always remember you for Moose and Squirrel, not . . . that other thing. But is this a fitting tribute to this unfortunate misstep? Does the remake surpass the original? And why won’t Disney consider Super Chicken as a long-needed addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe? Why, I ask you! Well, I can’t promise you an answer to that last one, but we’ll try to answer the others. Give a listen!
Poll question: how much to a movie’s musical score (the background music, not the pop songs on the soundtrack) affect your cinematic experience? Tell, tell!
In the mid-1960’s, a television program appeared that would profoundly change the medium of tv, science fiction, American popular culture, and even scientific exploration. Its influence is still felt today among its legions of fans, who range from “devoted” to “psychotic.” I’m speaking of course of 1965’s “My Mother The Car,” starring Jerry Van Dyke. This criminally ignored, ground-breaking show was the first to consider the idea of the Singularity, where human consciousness and technology would subsume and be subsumed by each other, forming an entirely new form of sentience. But since Hollywood has blindly and stubbornly rejected all of my spec scripts, there’s no movie to discuss so I guess we should talk about Space Walk or whatever that other show was called.
This cinematic version of Star Trek represents a very daring and risky venture, wherein the film’s creators decided to take a venerable and frighteningly-beloved franchise . . . and almost completely rewrite it, changing the characters’ backstories, presentation, and even, in effect, discarding the history of the show itself. Does it succeed? Is it fascinating? Highly illogical? Be there whales here? Give a listen and find out!
Poll question: what fictional cinematic character would you most like to sit down and have a conversation with, maybe over lunch or drinks?
Holy cathode ray tubes! It’s a brand-new series here on “Max, Mike; Movies”! This time we’re checking out creations for the big screen that had their origins on the small screen. No, not on your phone, I’m talking about television . . . although recent technological and social changes really have redefined what the term “small screen” might refer to. Heck, it might even make people think I’m talking about their smartwatches! The cultural and linguistic ramifications are seriously . . . hey, but, movies! Movies that were spawned by tv shows! That’s what we’re talking about in this new series “I Made-From-TV Love You” [note: title of series is a clumsy paraphrasing of an old Mystery Science Theater 3000 quote. Patent pending]. This week we’re starting off with a movie based on a tv show based on a series of New Yorker cartoons based on . . . probably some stuff scribbled on a bar napkin: “The Addams Family.” This is the live-action one, not to be confused with the recent CG movies or the family’s appearances on assorted episodes of Scooby Doo. Give a listen and try to blot out the memory of the atrocities MC Hammer committed on the classic theme song.
Poll question: (a reversal of a question from a couple of shows ago) What is a movie that you love, or at least really enjoy, that everyone else can’t stand (or looks at you funny and edges away when you tell them you love it)?