I love “Critters,” I should say that first and foremost. I love the movie series, the first two are childhood favorites, and when it comes down to it, I prefer the Crites over the Gremlins. Come at me I don’t care. So when news came that we were getting a limited series based on the eighties movie series, I was excited to say the least. The trailer looked amazing and I was so ready for it. I’m not one to adhere to conspiracy theories, but the only reason I can rationalize the utterly terrible “Critters: A New Binge” is that it was once a movie that was split up in to a “series” for the sake of views.
I’m surprised “Treehouse” ends up being the best episode of Blumhouse and Hulu’s ambitious anthology “Into the Dark,” yet. I have to admit that I hated James Roday’s “Gravy,” so to see him approach “Treehouse” with a very relevant message, an inherent tone of terror, and some darkly comic undertones, was a welcome surprise. “Into the Dark” has been more hit than miss since its introduction in October, but with “Treehouse” it hits right out of the park as an ode to spring that explores hell having no fury like a woman scorned.
As a preamble I admit that I’ve never liked the “Kim Possible” animated series. I know as a Disney fan I’m supposed to love it, but I always found the series to be incredibly flat, bland, and boring. I didn’t really care for anything about it beyond Will Friedle who, at the time, was my favorite voice actor. That said, when “Kim Possible” was rebooted in to a TV movie series, I was surprised by how new and re-energized the reboot looked. Though “Kim Possible” is back, she’s returned for a whole new generation of fans that have embraced heroines fighting crime.
With the success of his iconic adaptation, “Batman: The Animated Series” behind him, creator Bruce Timm was asked by Warner Bros. in 1996 to produce a companion series to the darker crime drama. The natural jumping off point from Batman was, of course, Superman, the equally recognizable and ever immortal character from DC Comics. With “Batman: The Animated Series” ensuring the success of DC translating in to the animated medium, Superman was a welcome change of pace for the medium Timm had helped innovate for the decade. It was also a welcome reboot for Superman fans who wanted the Man of Steel brought in to the decade.
For Blumhouse’s polarizing anthology series in February, the writers of “Into the Dark” tackle Valentine’s Day. One of the nasty aspects of having to write the review for “Down” is it’s nearly impossible to write about it without spoiling the episode’s big hook. And the primary motivation for watching “Down” is the way the premise devolves in to a huge twist mid-way. Like all of the episodes of “Into the Dark” so far, the episode is fifteen minutes too long, but once it completely reaches fever pitch, it’s quite an exhilarating horror thriller based around the holiday.
How do you adapt a hit video game like “Double Dragon” that’s based around beating up bad guys with your fists, bats, whips, and assorted blunt instruments? Easy! You build the cartoon around mystic, non-violent laser blasting swords and give those to your heroes instead. Not only does it prevent any of that “nasty” hand-to-hand combat the games are famous for, but it also gives you room to build some really “nifty” toys for the game. The result, however, was one of the many failed attempts to introduce the Nintendo fighting game into the mainstream.
As one of the most popular horror authors of the 1990’s who penned two very popular series of horror novels “Goosebumps” and “Fear Street,” author R.L. Stine had a humongous influence on kids everywhere. He helped introduce many to the joys of spine-tingling horror and tongue-in-cheek mystery, as well as the art of storytelling. “Goosebumps” and “Fear Street” thrived on creating unique and realistic protagonists, along with introducing genuine plot twists and ironic endings that channeled Rod Serling and Richard Matheson. “Goosebumps” books a hallmark of school book fairs and local libraries across the country, and as a horror buff myself, I can attest to cutting my teeth on everything the man wrote at the time.
During the 1950s and early 1960s, Ernie Kovacs stood out from his comedy peers who approached television with a vaudeville and Borscht Belt vibe. Kovacs’ ingenious use of visual sight sags and off-kilter sound effects created a new school of small-screen comedy, and his gallery of brilliantly warped characters – including the mincing poet Percy Dovetonsils, the hostile Hungarian cook Miklos Molnar and the musically violent derby-hatted simians of The Nairobi Trio – brought a subversive sense of humor to a comedy scene that was often a little too safe for its own good.