Blood Capsule #329

BELIEVE (2000)

Upon glancing at writer/director Robert Tinnell's IMDb page, it becomes apparent that his heart is in the right place.  Those are probably the most glowing words I can dish on Believe, a domesticated "haunted house" flick that barely earns its PG rating.  I considered skipping out on this capsule.  But!  It's not too shabby.  A teenaged boy is forced to move in with his salty grandfather, and almost immediately, he notices a ghost on the premises.  Is his grandfather hiding some abstruse family secret?  If so, what does it have to do with the family across the street?  I'll level with you.  Believe is remarkably light stuff.  If it were a boxer, it would inhabit the featherweight division.  Or bantamweight.  I don't know anything about boxing.  You may have seen the (admittedly cool) VHS cover in the horror section at Blockbuster, but it's horror by rote.  There is no blood.  Even the atmosphere is flimsy despite a preponderance of the action taking place near a cemetery.

But!  Again!  I've seen worse, especially when it comes to family-friendly spookshows.  Ricky Mabe gives a favorable performance as our lead.  His girlfriend is played by a young Elisha Cuthbert.  This was well before her breakout turn in 24.  She couldn't have been any older than thirteen (you creep).  All of the adults are fine, but Believe is tailored for the young adult demographic.  Unfortunately, it's missing the wackiness of Goosebumps or Eerie, Indiana.  Still, I'll give it a halfhearted recommendation, listless though it may be.  That's all I got.

Random Album Alert

I have a thing for slow and/or mid-paced black metal.  Thus, I have a thing for Old Forest.

Blood Capsule #328

THE HORRIBLE DOCTOR BONES (2000)

What is it that makes us seek out grubby entertainment?  I'm convinced that some of us are born with a specific gene that makes us enjoy the most rotten films in existence.  Take The Horrible Doctor Bones, for instance.  I knew it was crap.  Did that deter me from popping it into my Blu-ray player?  Of course not.  If anything, it augmented the dopamine boost I experienced when I pressed play.  If you're wondering why I own this movie on disc (as I am at this very moment), it was simply cheap.  That's all it takes, friends. Bones was one of two cheapies churned out by Alchemy Entertainment, a subdivision of Full Moon that was supposed to specialize in "urban" horror.  The other was Ragdoll, and man, how does Charles Band sleep at night?  From the ground up, there is so much wrong happening here, some of it feels right.  The titular Dr. Bones is a famous hip-hop producer.  He's holding open auditions, the likes of which range in unease from edgy rap to...help me.  Please.  God, help me.

So Bones is going to transform listeners into zombies through liturgical chanting and general, all-purpose black magic.  For those curious, we do see zombies, but they're just regular people.  Y'know, method actors.  The doctor is played by Darrow Igus.  I dug his garish make-up (supplied by Gabe Bartalos), and I have to hand it to the guy.  He's committed, probably - no, definitely - going above and beyond the call of duty.  None of the cast members are actually bad.  The Horrible Doctor Bones itself isn't actually bad, especially compared to other Full Moon flotsam from the late 90's/early 00's.  It's not actually good either.  I'm sitting here and trying to remember what happened in the third act.  Wait, how many acts are there in a 72-minute film?

Iron Supplements #6

GENETIC WISDOM

I'll be upfront.  This particular Supplement isn't great or anything.  Genetic Wisdom is pretty cool.  Interesting even!  I'm listening to their debut LP at the moment, and it's just cool enough to write about.  The Fear Dimension was released in 1993, which was a sweet year.  Don't believe me?  It was the year of Ticks and Doink the Clown.  It couldn't have been that bad, right?  I don't know where trends were in the Netherlands (the band's country of origin), but over here, we were NOT into progressive thrash around this time.  Genetic Wisdom would have been seen as emphatically unfashionable.  Maybe that's why I dig them.  The first track - "Perseverance Kills the Game" - isn't too far removed from what Chuck Schuldiner was cooking up on Human.  There are no death metal elements, though.  The vocals are...meh.  Again, this record won't destroy you, but it shouldn't be this obscure.  I had to dig for the songs on The Fear Dimension individually, as I can't find it anywhere to stream or download.

Genetic Wisdom churned out one more album before calling it a day.  Check 'em out.  Or don't.  For metal nerds only.

Blood Capsule #327

METEOR MONSTER (1957)

I don't run across much independent fright fare from before 1970, so this is a treat.  Thankfully, I enjoyed Meteor Monster, which was released as Teenage Monster.  Story goes, cinematographer Jacques Marquette needed an inexpensive film to serve as the second half of a double feature with The Brain from Planet Arous (an awesome flick, by the way).  After his director quit on him, he ended up helming the project himself.  All of this is ironic, seeing as how Arous is already a "budget picture."  This was Marquette's only directorial credit.  I'm not sure what that says for the movie itself, but if you adjust your expectations accordingly, you'll find that Meteor Monster wines and dines you.  Hey, that's more of a commitment than I'm willing to make.  Nothing personal.  Anyway, this screwy slab of sci-fi horror is unique for the 50's in that it's a period piece.  Our action takes place towards the end of the nineteenth century.  The location?  Um, somewhere in the Southwest.  A meteor crashes in the next paragraph.

Right, so the meteor - literally a sparkler - kills a man and wounds his son.  We cut to seven years later.  The son is grown, but his injuries have turned him into a hideous monstrosity.  He looks like a cross between a werewolf and a caveman.  I don't know how a meteor can keep you from visiting a barbershop, but them's the breaks.  The rest of the plot involves a gold mine and manipulative shrews.  I'll hand it to screenwriter Ray Buffum; Meteor Monster is more engrossing than it has any right to be, at least on paper.  Dandy make-up effects come courtesy of Jack Pierce.  Apparently, Quentin Tarantino is a fan.  A clip from Meteor Monster shows up in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood.  I'm going with four Z'Dars, but (and I know I'm repeating myself from other reviews) you have to consider the source.  I own the big box VHS that was released by Monterey Home Video as part of their Midnight Madness line.  That makes me cool, right?

Now Playing #24

Deftones - Private Music

I talked about this album on the debut episode of Dom Reacts.  At the time, I wasn't really feeling it.  But!  Those were my first impressions.  I have since accumulated, like, a lot of impressions.  As such, I can safely render a more official verdict.  This is a cool record.  It's not one of my favorite Deftones releases, but let's be honest.  It was never going to topple White Pony or Around the Fur.  That would just be crazy talk.  However, these new jams have seeped into my pores like a warm rush of air pollution (???).  I dig the menacing basslines of "Ecdysis," the sheer riffage of "Cut Hands." and the catchy chorus vibes found on "Metal Dream."  Any duds?  "I Think About You All the Time," a chill cut in the middle of Private Music, hasn't quite won me over.  It wouldn't be fair to call it a true dud, though.  Overall, I'd say this is a stronger batch of songs than Ohms, which in retrospect, seems a little patchy.

Craft - Total Soul Rape

These guys are often compared to Darkthrone, but the more I listen to Craft, the less I hear Darkthrone.  For starters, Craft is Swedish.  And while the production could be considered rough around the edges, it's nowhere near the level of Transylvanian Hunger or Panzerfaust in terms of "rawness."  Simply put, this is quality black metal.  The drumming is more involved than one might expect.  No, it's not technical, but it's...well-played?  Total Soul Rape might be my preferred Craft album.  They're all worth checking out, though.  You've got to love the songtitles.  "Death to Planet Earth," "Ultimate Satan," and "Past, Present, Dead" are my personal favorites.  My actual favorite song is "World of Plague."  It slows down at juuuuust the right moment.  If it doesn't make you overtax your neck muscles, you don't have a pulse.  Or to steal a famous tagline, if it doesn't make your skin crawl, it's on too tight.  Listen to Craft and prepare to be skinned.

Blood Capsule #326

THE SLEEPING CAR (1990)

This movie is so obscure, I once rented it on VHS and it wouldn't play in my VCR.  Okay, it's not that obscure, but I doubt that many cinephiles know that David Naughton had a spell of "train horror."  The Sleeping Car is on par with Night Train to Terror.  I'd have to rewatch Terror Train to comment on its viability in this category.  Let's see...oh, Horror Express!  That has to be the top pick.  In any case, Naughton stars as a college student pursuing a degree in journalism.  He's strapped for cash, so he has to settle for a makeshift apartment that used to be the caboose of a train.  On second thought, it may not have been the caboose.  It matters none.  Eventually, Naughton - er, Jason - realizes that his locomotive domicile is haunted by the restless spirit of his landlady's dead bridegroom.  Because the genre was still spinning its wheels trying to parrot the success of a wisecracking Freddy Krueger, our villain has a silly name.  The Mister!  Unfortunately, he has absolutely no charisma.  Hence, no sequels.

The Mister's makeup is abundantly spooky, but he might be the least interesting aspect of The Sleeping Car.  Kevin McCarthy shows up as a nextdoor mystic who supplies some of the comedy relief.  Overall, the dialogue is obnoxiously clever.  Every line sounds as if it's being read from a script.  However, I dug Naughton.  And I really, really dug his girlfriend, the impossibly sexy Judie Aronson.  I recognized her from somewhere, but I was drawing a blank.  Turns out, she was one of the camp counselors in Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter.  Killer resume, no?  We do get a charitable dose of nudity, so yay.  The death sequences are peculiar.  Each victim dies from being perforated by the coil springs of a sofa.  Points for originality, I guess.  Honestly, this isn't a bad flick, but I can't say that I was particularly staggered by it.  It will do in a pinch.  My rating is a tad generous, as I have a thing for films that failed to become franchises.  In that respect, The Sleeping Car doesn't quite reach the level of Brainscan or Dr. Giggles.

My copy.

Ra$$lin'

Finally!  My main wrestling crush from back in the day is heading back to the squared circle.  As much as I love Iyo Sky and Stephanie Vaquer, A.J. Lee is the reason why I'm going to be paying way too much money to watch wrestling in the not-too-distant future.  Peacock?  Cancelled.  Netflix?  Eventually, cancelled.  I have to make room in my bank account somewhere.  Thankfully, AEW and New Japan have been aggressively meager lately.  I can't keep up with everything anyway.

Am I just getting too old for this nonsense???

Blood Capsule #325

WAR OF THE INSECTS (1968)

I'll level with you, dear reader.  My mind is occupied...elsewhere.  I'm not "with it."  I'll spare you the details, but suffice to say, real-world stress is trying to rain on my b-movie parade.  I only mention it because horror fiction is the ultimate outlet for escapism, whether in print or on celluloid.  Today's subject is no different.  In fact, you could say that it's rather kooky.  Produced by Shochiku (the oldest among Japan's major movie studios), War of the Insects - a.k.a. Genocide - is a psychedelic slice of bug-addled horror.  My copy is a bootleg, but it's worth mentioning that it was released by Criterion in a swanky set alongside 1968's The Living Skeleton, 1967's The X from Outer Space, and 1968's Goke, Body Snatcher from Hell.  Do me a favor.  Don't let me buy that thing.  As it stands, I have a surplus of Blu-rays and tapes to sift through.  Do me another favor.  Don't let me drift off-topic again.  Just smack me.

Right, so War of the Insects.  The plot is baffling.  Pests everywhere are sick of humans destroying the planet.  They won't stand for it, man.  Somehow, they all agree as a hive mind to flip out and overthrow us.  I'm not sure if that includes mites and gnats, but this act of sedition manifests itself as a swarm of locusts (I suppose they could have been wasps or rabid dragonflies) that takes down a plane carrying an H-bomb.  It's all very apocalyptic.  What's more, we meet a mad scientist.  In a nice change of pace, our unhinged entomologist is a buxom blonde.  She's concocting a poison that will equip bees with a hallucinogenic stinger.  Apparently, her motives are not related to the bug uprising.  A happy accident?  To be honest, it seems unnecessary.  It's as if screenwriter Susumu Takaku simply wanted to jam as much conflict into the script as possible.  On the upside, none of it is boring.

If you're looking for a breakdown of the film's social commentary, you're woofing up the wrong tree.  I do appreciate the downbeat ending.  Go ahead and give War of the Insects a whirl.  Recommended to fans of The H-Man and the letter "h" in general.

DOM REACTS!

Check this out, yo!  And give me something to react to!

Blood Capsule #324

THE CRATER LAKE MONSTER (1977)

If you look up reviews of this film, a couple of things will jump out at you.  A) The production company - Crown International - gave director William R. Stromberg a gastric ulcer (just guessing) by tampering with the final product.  B) You will notice throngs of dweebs grousing about the special effects.  Okay, maybe "throngs" is overshooting it a bit, but I did come across more than one artless comment on the stop-motion beastie in The Crater Lake Monster.  Don't listen to the dweebs.  This particular Plesiosaur looks incredible, considering the dinky budget.  I don't even know how certain shots were achieved.  The clay models mesh unjustifiably well with the actors.  And the bulldozers.  Yes, we get a brief struggle between our dinosaur and heavy machinery.  By the way, I'm calling it a dinosaur out of sheer laziness.  It's a prehistoric something that is shaken to life by a meteor.  I'm realizing with age that a generous portion of the best movies ever made begin with a bolide fireball landing in the middle of a forest.

To that end, I wouldn't rank this flick over other contenders in the "meteor monster" sub-subgenre.  Sorry, but it doesn't touch The Blob or Killer Klowns from Outer Space.  It's definitely fun, though.  I'm contractually obligated to enjoy it on account of a gratuitous car chase.  It's so random, as is the double homicide that leads to the car chase.  Seriously, where did that come from?  I do have to deduct points for the goofball comedy.  For some ungodly reason, we spend an inordinate amount of time with the muttonhead owners of a boat rental service.  The film won't let them fade from memory.  I guess we're supposed to react when one of them ends up as chum.  Personally, if I were the Crater Lake Monster (y'know, in The Crater Lake Monster), I would demand better chum.  I'd still say this is a fine motion picture.  Slightly superior to 1985's The Sea Serpent, which I recently watched.  Slightly inferior to the fossilized dung of the Midwestern Tree Dolphin.

Gotta watch out for those tree dolphins.

Iron Supplements #5

BEHOLDER

Here is one for fans of epic metal.  Beholder also falls into the power metal camp, although they're nowhere near, say, Hammerfall.  They trend towards Candlemass-style doom, with vocalist John Yelland (of Judicator fame) sounding like a younger Robert Lowe.  Any Dungeons & Dragons players in the house?  Apparently, that's where the name comes from.  A Beholder is a "floating orb of flesh with a large mouth, single central eye, and many smaller eyestalks on top with powerful magical abilities."  I probably just scared you off, but don't recoil just yet.  This stuff jams.  You can expect to hear prize-winning riffs and saucy solos (sorry, my adjectives are out of control) on In the Temple of the Tyrant, the 2025 full-length debut.  Amorphis frontman Tomi Joutsen delivers guest growls on "Eyes of the Deep," which is currently massaging my earholes.  All in all, this band is kicking my crippled caboose.  Highly recommended for fans of air guitar and...um, paladins.

Short story!  I once played D&D at a coffeehouse.  Once.  The night ended with my character (a druid, if memory serves) committing suicide as I ran over the game pieces with my wheelchair.  For some reason, I wasn't invited back.

Blood Capsule #323 (Special Edition)

What's a Special Edition?  It's a series where I review one of my favorites.  These are films that would appear in my Top 50 or so (if I endeavored to compile such a list).

THE HOWLING (1981)

I'll end the suspense.  The Howling is my favorite werewolf movie on the planet.  I have a sick fascination with the sequels, but they really did it right the first time.  Watching it last night (after a period of dormancy that lasted several years), things clicked for me.  I think I know why it works.  I mean, I've always known, but this most recent viewing shed some clarity on the matter.  The Howling is one of a handful - and that's being generous - of lycanthropictures that perfectly balances vein-slashing horror with genuine pathos.  The secret weapon?  Dee Wallace Stone.  She's invaluable as TV journalist Karen White, so much so that I can't imagine the film without her.  None of it, not even Rob Bottin's jaw-dropping special effects, would hit the same without her ardent, solemn performance at the core of the film.  If you need a synopsis, White is sent on a furlough to a mountain resort to find some solace after a harrowing episode where she assisted the police in nabbing a serial killer.

I don't think I'm spoiling anything by saying that this leave of absence is interrupted by a gaggle of werewolves.  The creatures themselves are fierce.  I can only echo the sentiments of others when it comes to the transformation sequence, which I just learned was shot after director Joe Dante ran out of money.  Who needs a budget anyway?  This is a five-Z'Dar supernova of fur and wolfsbane (I'm using five Z'Dars from my personal collection, I'll have you know), but it should be noted that the midsection is sluggish.  As much as I try to silence my inner critic, I had to mention it.  That doesn't diminish the explosive third act, though.  John Carradine earns a nomination in the category for Best Supporting Actor That is Almost Dead.  And that was a tough playing field, too.  Elisabeth Brooks was a shoe-in for Sexiest Werewolf Bitch.  I'm kidding; that's not a real category.

Random Album Alert

Another day, another 2025 release that rips.  The band is Shrieking Demons, and this is an excellent slab of death metal.  Could very well end up on my year-end list.

Blood Capsule #322

UNNATURAL (2024)

Disclaimer!  I'm only roping Unnatural into Random Werewolf Month for two sketchy reasons.  How sketchy?  Enough to warrant a disclaimer.  I needed there to be a "current" film amongst the dead pool of titles that I curated.  Also, this is a werewolf movie for, like, five minutes (the first five, to be exact).  It switches to vampire mode for the rest of the running time.  I had to include it, though.  Folks, Unnatural is a horror/western hybrid starring Al Snow.  Yes, the wrestler.  I didn't realize that he entertained an acting career on the side, but his IMDb page is variegated in an assortment of low-budget projects that range in style from horror to Homeless for the Holidays, whatever you would call that.  He's pitch-perfect here as a grizzled cowboy.  Actually, that's going to be a theme, as I have to say that Unnatural is pretty...unbad.  Don't get me wrong.  It's obvious that this flick is limited in scope, but I didn't spot nearly as many unintentional gaffes as I was expecting.

Snow plays a stolid, imperturbable drifter who opens the film by saving his grandchildren from a werewolf.  Incidentally, our lycanthrope looks...can I use "unbad" again?  It's un-ungood.  From there, we cut back and forth to a Dodge City of sorts.  The sheriff is a bloodsucker.  By God, if Al Snow can't send him and his acolytes back to Hell, he's going to die trying.  That running time I mentioned clocks in at 103 minutes.  Normally, that would be a hindrance for a z-grade picture show, but while Unnatural moves at a methodical pace, I was never bored.  I was hoping to see Al Snow dispatch monsters at high noon/midnight, and for better or worse, that's what I got.  If I want to sleep at night, however, I can't hand out any more than three Z'Dars.  That's just the way it is.  Now, I'm no wobblin' jaw, so I'm going to head for the door.  Don't squat with your shootin' spurs on, partner.

By the way, Unnatural II and III are in pre-production.  Hot dog!

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Blood Capsule #321

AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN PARIS (1997)

I imagine that fans who flocked to see this film in 1997 were disappointed that it didn't (correction: couldn't) live up to An American Werewolf in London.  Can I share something with you?  Promise not to laugh?  In my opinion, London is overrated.  Any moron could tell you that the special effects were incredible, but it left me feeling flat.  It's definitely not my favorite werewolf movie.  Not even close (I'll get to my actual favorite a couple of reviews from now...patience, patience).  If you view Paris as a true sequel, it's not going to wash your dishes.  However, if you view it as a stand-alone creature feature, one produced in the gizzard of a slasher boom, you might find that most of its punches connect.  The main dude is played by Tom Everett Scott.  He is vacationing in France with his daredevil buddies, and right off the bat, this flick has a leg up on the original.  The oh-so-significant best friends are brought to life by perennial "that guy" actors Vince Vieluf and Phil Buckman.  Simply put, they rock.

This is the last time I'll reference it, but I never felt a connection to the side characters in London.  Here, they're entertaining, and as an added bonus, they play an integral role in the storyline.  Conversely, I can't say that the chemistry between our cloying leads is particularly riveting.  Julie Delpy is fine as the lycanthropic love interest, but...meh.  The rain-soaked opening credits ensured me that Paris would be easy on the eyes.  And it is, with the exception of the werewolves.  Good Lord, the CGI has not aged well.  It looks foul.  Malodorous even!  That's a crucial bone of contention, considering that the werewolves are the stars of the show.  In terms of gore, nothing stands out.  I realize that it sounds as if I've soured on An American Werewolf in Paris over the course of this capsule, but I had fun with it.  I enjoyed it more than I did when I saw it at the fragile age of thirteen.  I'm pretty sure I was just waiting to see boobs and/or blood in 1997.  I'd like to think I've matured since then.  Ahem.

My thoughts on Weapons...

I was told to go into this movie with very little knowledge of the plot beforehand.  So I won't give much away.  Weapons is already being touted as the best horror romp of the year, and while it's definitely worth seeing, I would probably give the edge to Bring Her Back.  Both films are intense, but this one does take awhile to get cooking.  I wouldn't even call it a disconnect.  You're going to see 45-60 minutes of plot unfold before you're lined up with a protagonist.  The narrative jumps from character to character, almost like an anthology, which is fine.  That's the nature of the story.  Whenever I'm confronted with an unorthodox framing device, I have to wonder if it wouldn't have been easier to digest as something more linear.  Of course, if you haven't spent time with Weapons, none of this makes any sense.

It sounds as if I was disenchanted, but I wasn't.  This is an engrossing sit, and I'm glad that I limited my exposure to "promotional materials" before I entered the theater.  I didn't even watch the trailers.  There is quite a bit to talk about here, but obviously, I don't want to get into details.  Suffice to say, the acting is first-rate.  There are a couple of disturbing moments that could read as "scary," although I never use that word myself.  It seems that everyone else has already bought a ticket to check out Weapons, so I don't know that it needs a recommendation.  For what it's worth, I do recommend it.  4 Z'Dars?  Super intriguing, not jaw-dropping.  That's my official verdict.

Iron Supplements #4

MONOLITHE

Technically, I'm cheating with this entry.  I think I may have listened to this album years ago, but that doesn't change the fact that I rediscovered Monolithe by clicking around on Metal Archives.  This is melodic death/doom, an environment I am totally comfortable with assimilating.  It should be noted that Black Hole District is LP number ten.  I can't vouch for the other stuff, but I do plan on dunking my head into this discography like a sugar-dependent child bobbing for apples at a Halloween party.  There are ten tracks here, five being one-minute filler interludes and the rest being gargantuan skyscrapers of towering riffs.  "Skyscraper" is actually an appropriate word.  You may have noticed the cover, which ties into the concept of the album.  I typically don't follow along with lyrics, but for those who do, Black Hole District is a science fiction story that takes place in a Blade Runner-esque city.

Again, that's fine and dandy, but I'm here for the tunes.  Catchy clean vocals crop up here and there, as do liquid guitar harmonies.  Overall, songs such as "Sentience Amidst the Lights" and "To Wander the Labyrinth" align with my tastebuds.  I never got into Blade Runner, though.  I once had a professor in college who knew that I fancied myself a "genre journalist," and he gave me the extra credit assignment of writing a report on the movie.  I think I got an A.  I hope I got an A!

Blood Capsule #320

LONE WOLF (1988)

The plot summary on IMDb refers to the characters in this film as "college students."  I'm calling shenanigans.  They act like high school brats.  If they aren't squabbling over girls, they're fighting in the hallway.  Plus, the teachers reprimand them like they're teenagers.  All of this is compounded by the fact that they are - easily - the oldest teenagers I've ever seen in a b-movie.  I mean, they could double as their own parents.  Clearly, Lone Wolf is a ditzy flick, but that's part of the charm.  It's also notable for being, like, ridiculously obscure.  As of this writing, it's still not on Blu-ray.  You can forget about finding it on VHS, although I'm sure it's out there.  Somewhere.  I shouldn't bury the lede; this is a fun werewolf romp.  The identity of our lycanthrope is a mystery until the ending.  The suspects?  Mostly nobodies, but the main dude is worth talking about.  He might even be worth starting a new paragraph.

Eddie (last name redacted...he's too cool for that) is the poofy-haired singer of a rock band.  He's dangerous.  And he has convinced the owner of the only club in town to let his band play every night, seemingly.  For weeks on end!  Did I mention that this was a ditzy flick?  I'll skip to the vital details, the most salient points.  Our werewolf looks awesome.  Plain and simple.  The first shot we see in Lone Wolf is the monster's bloodied claw transposed over a full moon.  Again, awesome.  The highlight of the whole ordeal is a beheading at the winter's ball.  My words don't do the scene justice.  You had to be there.  This is a 4-Z'Dar powerhouse, but it's not without pockmarks.  I'm man enough to admit that I checked the clock a couple of times during the third act.  If the pacing was a bit snazzier, Lone Wolf would be unstoppable.  It very nearly eclipses other werewolf movies from this decade that are held in high esteem.  Don't sleep on it if it ever makes the jump to more accessible physical media.

Random trivia!  According to myth, Lone Wolf was the last film that O.J. Simpson watched the night before he killed Nicole Brown Simpson.  Um, allegedly.