Morbius

Saturday is traditionally "Take Out the Trash" Day.

Bore-Me/Us

or

I Was a Vampire Jesus

Sheldon Cooper : I have a question about Batman. Batman is a man who dresses up like a bat. Manbat is a part man part bat hybrid. Now, if Manbat dressed up as a man to fight crime, would he be Manbatman;?
Leonard Hofstadter : No, he'd be Batmanbat.
Howard Wolowitz : But wouldn't Manbatman just be a batman that was bitten by a radioactive man?
Howard Wolowitz : But Batman is a man. You're talking about a man who would have the powers of a man. That's just Manman.
Sheldon Cooper : Well, isn't Manman just Man?
Leonard Hofstadter : Well, what if Manman dressed as a bat?
Raj Koothrappali : Well, that's just Batman.

Leonard Hofstadter : No, if a man dresses as a bat, that's Batman, but if Manman dresses as a bat that's Batmanman.

"The Big Bang Theory" "The Viewing Party Combustion" Season 9; Episode 21

Semantics. There have been so many super-hero movies now, that things are starting to blur a bit. Not just that you can't tell a hero from a villain these days, but the characters (despite ©/®™ considerations) are starting to all feel the same, variations on a theme. Even if something feels completely revolutionary in the comics, they get so watered down in the movies, they don't feel too different from everything else.

 

Not that Marvel's "scientific vampire" "Morbius" was all that revolutionary. When he first appeared in the first series of "Spider-man" comics (No. 101, Oct. 1971), he was the product of a seeming "market need." Marvel created him because they wanted to use "Dracula" (but didn't want to use "Dracula" so much as an original, marketable character)—the comics code authority had dropped their ban on vampires*, while, at the same time, vampires were "big" on the daytime "soap" "Dark Shadows." Writer Roy Thomas and artist Gil Kane created the character as a villain for Spider-man, and, after transmorgriphying into his own comics and as a compatriot/villain, for such Marvel properties as "Blade" and "Ghost Rider." The character has gone through the usual continuity confusions of "is he a hero or is he a villain" as well as some changes in appearance, powers, and ret-conned history. He's always been Dr. Michael Morbius, brilliant scientist, who in attempting to cure himself of a lethal blood disease, turned himself into a "living vampire" without the usual superstitious tropes, sort of like Spider-man, but only if you replace spiders with bats. Or DC's Man-bat, but with vampirism. Or compare him to Marvel's Jekyll/Hyde appropriation, The Hulk, with the emotional on-set trigger.

 

See what I mean about the lines getting blurred? (And we haven't talked about the movie yet!)

So, Columbia Pictures/Sony has been doing "Spider-man" movies for quite awhile. So much so that they have pretty much run through Spider-man's best villains. IGN has made a list of the best 25. #19 is Morbius. Pretty damn low on the list.**

 
Still, since Venom has his own series of movies, CP/S (in association with Marvel) has decided to make a series based on that Spidey character not at the top of anybody's mind, Morbius. Like Tom Hardy in the Venom films, they've cast great character actor Jared Leto in the title role.

Unlike the Venom series, they failed to make it entertaining.

Morbius starts with a prologue of how Dr. Michael Morbius (Leto) flies to Costa Rica to trap some vampire bats—with his blood as bait—so that he can do blood studies on their DNA to improve human blood, all of which is explained in the next sequence (they evidently did the Costa Rica side-bar first because all of its swooping helicopter shots provide a bit more action and brings in Leto faster), where young Milo is in a Greek hospital, being tended to by Dr. Emil Nicholas (Jared Harris) for his blood disorder, requiring "an oil change three times a day."
Prognoses are not good for his survival, as he is introduced to young Lucius who is rotated in replacing another patient who has passed. Young Michael calls him "Milo"—he's called all the kids in the next bed "Milo", which tells you exactly what he thinks the new kid's chances are. The two become conveniently fast friends, but Michael is transferred out when his repairing Milo's dialysis equipment inspires Nicholas to study the sciences. Good luck with the next guy's being able to repair your faulty equipment, kid.

Michael does become brilliant, winning the Nobel Prize for his work synthesizing artificial blood. He works for Horizon Labs, where he does his blood research; Lucien/"Milo" has become quite wealthy in his own right and the two have maintained their friendship. Michael tells "Milo" (now in the form of Matt Smith) that he may be on the brink of discovering a cure for their rare blood disease, but, the process can only be done off-shore as the procedure is undoubtedly illegal and Michael will be the initial test subject.

With the help of Dr. Martine Bancroft (Adria Arjona), Morbius CRISPR's particular bat-blood DNA with a sample of his own blood and has it injected into his spinal marrow. As he's the first test subject, he, of course, doesn't have any knowledge of the side-effects that one usually finds dominating 2/3 of pharmaceutical commercials. And, for sure, he's never seen one that informs "Some side effects include vampirism, blood-sucking, echolocation, fingernails for claws, and great pecs." But, that's what he gets, as well as a pronounced 'roid-rage every time his batty-sense is tingling. Or hungry (at one point, he even says—Hulkily—"I'm starting to get hungry. You don't want to see me when I'm hungry."

That's bad news for the anonymous mercenaries who are evidently guarding the boat—the "Murnau" (snicker)—all of whom get eviscerated with Morbius performing one-way blood-transfusions on them. Morbius, satiated, comes out of his vampire funk, and seeing the somewhat less than sterile conditions on the boat...and seeing Dr. Bancroft knocked unconscious (it's what pissed him off) calls in a "May-day" and jumps ship, the "Murnau" being lost.

Well, the FBI is called—in the forms of Al Madrigal and Tyrese Gibson—and before long, Morbius is on the run (or should that be "on the fly?") for the notorious "vampire murders" and Morbius has to contend with that, his dependence on his artificial blood mixture (which seems to have a lessening efficiency) and his ol' buddy "Milo" who's pissed off that Dr. Michael doesn't share and finds his own way to fang up and become a villain as that, seemingly, is his nature. One wonders why. Is it because he's rich, pampered—despite having a debilitating disease—or because we saw him get beat up that one time? Explanations are less than forthcoming, but, then, neither is the acting. Everyone seems to go through the motions of portraying "hero," "mentor," "rival," "love interest" but the script and the performances based on it feel devoid of anything beyond the rote requirements of the roles. There's just no inner life to any of them beyond going through the motions and hitting the marks.

One can say the same for the direction...except for one little sequence in a hospital corridor where—the conceit is—for energy-saving reasons, is lit only by lights triggered by motion-detectors. As someone walks along, the lights for the upcoming block comes on, the one behind turns off. Director Daniel Espinosa makes very good use of it, ramping up the suspense for the inevitable fake-out and jump-scare. 

 

One wishes the rest of the movie had as much bite.

* "Scenes dealing with, or instruments associated with walking dead, torture, vampires and vampirism, ghouls, cannibalism, and werewolfism are prohibited."

 

** The higher-ranked ones they haven't used are Kraven the Hunter, Hobgoblin, Spider-Slayer, Scorpion, Chameleon, Jackal, and Morlun. Except for Kraven, they all feel like you've seen them before...even though you haven't.

Last Night in Soho

Killing Two Birds with One Stone

or

Who Are you Wearing?

 

Edgar Wright's new film, Last Night in Soho, is his first horror/thriller film where the purpose isn't to make fun of them, where the emphasis is on the disorientation and not the whimsy (but don't worry, there are a lot of cheeky touches to it).

 

In it, a mousy fashion-design student, Eloise (Thomasin McKenzie—from Jojo Rabbit) moves to the big city of London to attend classes and achieve her goals of becoming au courant. But, as her grandmother (Rita Tushingham !!) warns her "London can be a lot." 

 

That it can be. Even in one time-line. Eloise has a rough first day, what with meeting her room-mate and a coven of snarky "mean girls" who occupy her dorm. It's tough on Eloise, who misses her Mum (she'd committed suicide when Eloise was a girl, but kept seeing images of her in the mirror back home). Finally, she decides to rent a room in Soho from Mrs. Collins (Diana Rigg !!) who's been there forever and wouldn't think of selling the place—"Too many memories".  That should have been put in the advert.

Eloise loves the place, seeing as she's obsessed with the 1960's. She's constantly spinning the old EP's—traveling, she takes an over-loaded suitcase and a record-player—and her fashion-sense runs to the eye-popping 60's. It's the place she'd most like to go-go. But be careful what you're wishin' and hopin' for. She goes to sleep with the neon buzz of the "Soho" sign right outside her window, and with the R.E.M blink of an eye, she finds herself back there, to find a world still fruging and twisting and swinging.

There's one little hitch, though. When she looks in the mirror—or any reflective surface—she sees somebody else's reflection, a woman who turns out to be named Alexandra (Anya Taylor-Joy)—"Call me Sandy"—an aspiring singer-dancer who wants to be the "next Cilla Black." Eloise and Sandy are tied to each other as they roam around the "Cafe de Paris" separated only by a silvered plate of glass, as Eloise watches her make her way through the club, fending off would-be suitors until finally latching on to Jack (Matt Smith), the loungiest of lounge-lizards, who promises to get her into "the business."

But, as Eloise witnesses whenever she goes to sleep, the path of success is littered with slimy, handsy men making promises and repeated pick-up lines that end up in disappointment and being used. As the old saying goes "nostalgia isn't what it used to be" and Eloise finds these visions only adding to her "outsider" stress and fears about life in the big city. Could Alexandra's cautionary tale be something that Eloise is inextricably tied to? And when that tale leads to murder is there anything she can do from being drawn into that fate?

Wright's ability to use effects and imagery are magical here—at times, in a moment's flash, Alexandra becomes Eloise and vice versa—so, one has to keep on one's toes, and the soundtrack is filled with a British Invasion of hits commenting slyly on the action going on-screen. The relationship between the two women is the strongest of the ones on-screen and Wright's tricks to achieve the doppel-ganging leave you utterly convinced, as things get darker and darker and darker.

One wishes the ingenuity required to pull it off extended to the screenplay. Oh, there are clever touches in the details throughout, and one sits on the edge of one's seat, anticipating the next twist. But, the longer the film goes, the more one realizes that time is slipping away, and Last Night in Soho feels longer than it's less than 2 hour running time would suggest—lately I've been seeing things with much longer lengths that seemed to zip by far more quickly. Perhaps there are one or two too many red herrings crowding the narrative—at one point, I was losing any sympathy for Eloise when a "what is she concentrating on them for" question crept in and lodged in my skull. Ultimately, it's merely a diversion, although it's rather short-lived (but then what do you expect in a thriller/horror film?).

But, it put enough doubt in my mind to make me question exactly what Wright was trying to say in this movie. Horror films, have—at their slimy core—some caution, some elemental lesson, that they're preaching in the most ghastly way. Is Last Night in Soho a plea to live in the moment? That seeking revenge against one's oppressors is a fool-hardy act? That victims can be just as dangerous as the ones who attack? Lord, I hope not. I just wish the intellect that kept the threads of who's who had been used to clearly say what's what. I was disappointed and somewhat appalled.