director John Landis. But, the content of the movie (or, specifically, this segment as the film was an anthology of four stories) should not be judged by an external tragedy. Remember, the death of cast and crew is hardly an unusual misfortune and many films that have caused the death of someone involved (most famously, The Crow with the untimely death of Brandon Lee), have gone on to garner much acclaim. To address the first criticism; well, here they have more validity. To be fair, no remake or cinematic adaptation of a beloved series can ever live up to the source. In view of this, I must say that if one views Twilight Zone: The Movie with an open mind, one will find an effectively chilling and surprisingly loyal updating of three classic episodes plus a new story. Each director (Landis, Steven Spielberg, Joe Dante, and George Miller) bring a distinctive style to their respective segments but the spooky prologue with Dan Aykroyd and Albert Brooks alone is worth the price of admission.
Shadows & Fog (1992): Although the late 80s-early 90s was Woody Allen’s second heyday, this obscure gem is hardly remembered in the comedian’s canon and when it is brought up, it is never favorable. But Shadows & Fog (while no one would argue that it deserves a place with Annie Hall, Manhattan, or Hannah and Her Sisters) does not deserve to be ignored. To understand the smartness of Shadows & Fog, one has to be in tune with Allen’s love for German Expressionist cinema of the 20s. In rich black and white photography, Allen recreates a visually stunning homage to the films of Fritz Lang, F.W. Murnau, and Robert Wiene set in a European village in the 1920s, that is austere, intriguing, and often funny.
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