Guillermo Del Toro To Direct Pinocchio, Revive Childhood Nightmares

I do what I want!

Apparently the Mexican director plans to direct all of my favorite books—literally, all of them. First there was the announcement that he was going to direct The
Hobbit. Then came the news that he would take on both Frankenstein and Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde, along with whispers that he wants to shoot H.P. Lovecraft’s At the Mountains of Madness. Now, I have received the glorious news that he will be directing a stop-motion version of Pinocchio.

For those who are only familiar with the stickily saccharine Disney version of the story, you’re in for a surprise. Carlo Collodi’s pitch-black parable of a devious little marionette is a subversive satire of 19th century Italian society. Though it was written for a children’s magazine, the serialized story features an aggressive and malicious young boy (not unlike his picaresque counterpart Tom Sawyer), whose folly and frivolity get him him into increasingly dire situations. We see little P smash the talking cricket during one of his tantrums, convincing the cops to arrest the unsuspecting Gepetto, and, in the story’s intended conclusion, the mischievous protagonist actually ends up hung to death. How’s that for a bedtime story?

Martians Kidnap Santa, Fail To Steal Presents From Earthling Children

Seriously, why are you green?

While I’m on a Christmas countdown kick, I want to thank my friends over at Film and Cinema Puritans for mentioning Santa Claus Conquers the Martians on their list of favorite Christmas films. As the title may suggest, this is a classic holiday-themed sci-fi flick, most famous for its regular appearance on worst films ever made lists. Obviously, this is one of its most attractive traits, since “worst” is often just another word for “best” when it comes to B-movies—especially of the science fiction variety.

As the highly nuanced title suggests, this 1964 made-for-TV gem sees martians kidnapping jolly Saint Nick (and two unwitting Earth children) to enslave for the purpose of building of toys for their children. Through a series of unexpected events, a dim-witted robot ultimately ascends to the position of extra-terrestrial gift-giver and Santa returns to the North Pole with the presumably scarred little-uns. There’s also a commentary on the reclamation of individuality and cross-cultural (er, planetary) dialog in there somewhere, but really this movie isn’t so much about lessons as it is about laughing yourself into a stupor of stupidity.

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Sherlock Holmes: The Comedy

Pucker up, Watson!

Just when I thought my little heart couldn’t handle any more Sherlock Holmes excitement, I’ve been given some potentially devastating news: Judd Apatow is producing a “comedy” based on the classic detective, featuring almost-past-his-prime funnyman Will Ferrell and Sacha Baron Cohen (aka Borat aka Bruno aka Ali G).

Don’t get me wrong, I love both actors. And, despite having spawned a tiresome genre of movies about bumbling man-boy stoners, I can’t totally criticize Apatow either. The problem is that I just…well…I don’t like mixing geek stuff with dork stuff. We’re talking about apples and oranges here—Sherlock Holmes as a slapstick comedy?! I don’t think so.

From what I can tell, the project is still in the very preliminary stages and doesn’t even have a name. I’ll have to do some more sleuthing of my own and investigate further.

The Adventures Of Langdon St. Ives

Eerie adventures...

James P. Blaylock has an affinity for inventing authors out of the blue. His fictional poet William Ashbless was reportedly imagined with the help of then fellow Cal State student Tim Powers. Though the two later found guidance under Philip K. Dick and have since gone on to become successful authors of their own, this urge to treat the imaginary as the real permeates Blaylock’s work.

The Adventures of Langdon St. Ives is a throwback volume of the purest form. Blayblock revives his classic steampunk stories and novellas in the guise of Langdon St. Ives for a pure parody/poem of Victorian exploration and eccentricity—a love letter to the literary imaginations of Jules Verne and H.G. Wells. The volume is divided into six sections and includes stunning illustrations by J.K. Potter.

Sci-Fi-O-Rama

No Dr. Manhattan in here

If you’re in the mood for some nostalgia-inducing art, check out Sci-Fi-O-Rama, a blog that features out of print covers, rare sketches, and gorgeous graphics from the expansive and varied world of science fiction storytelling.

Expect to find art by Dean Ellis, Colin Hay, and Roman Cieslewicz, along with unexpected gems like Karel Thole’s commissioned work for Italian sci-fi mag Urania and Alejandro Jodorowsky’s setches for a never-made Dune movie.

Sexploitation: Sci-Fi Style

If you haven’t seen Zack and Miri Make a Porno you’re really not missing out. There are a few funny parts, but the plot is just more over-the-hill Kevin Smith dribble with a few gurgling laughs thanks to an unrecognizably sheered Jason Mewes. The movie’s one redeeming factor is that it features the making of a porn called Star Whores, which leads to a scene in which the characters rehearse a battle with glowing, neon dildos.

Because there’s nothing better than the right combination of sci-fi, porn, and parody, here’s a list of three sexy spoofs from the golden age of both science fiction and sexploitation cinema.

2069: A Sex Odyssey (1974):
Five scantily clad Venutians come to Earth to harvest male “seeds” for use on their apparently semen-starved home planet. Much bumping ensues.

2069: A Sex odyssey

Flesh Gordon (1974):
With the help up Professor Flexi-Jerkoff, nubile football player Flesh Gordon is the only man who can save sex-crazed Earth after evil Emperor Wang blasts the planet with his Sex Ray.

Flesh Gordon

Run, Virgin, Run (1973):
Ok, so maybe it’s a retroactive spoof of Run, Lola, Run‘s title, but the movie’s premise involves a mythical breeze with Viagra-like side affects and a solitary sex god in a small mountain village. What it lacks in thematic relevance, it makes up for in hilariousness.

Run, Virgin, Run

Frankenhorror; Or, The Modern Monster

God is dead.

Modern horror was invented in the summer of 1816. Trapped inside on a rainy day, Lord Byron invited his disgruntled companions to each write a ghost story—a challenge that famously spawned Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus and John William Polidori’s less well known The Vampyre, a predecessor to Dracula by more than 80 years. While it’s hard to imagine an uneducated teenage girl and a 21-year-old physician out-writing two of the great Romantic poets (Percy Shelley was also at the scene), the event has become so widely mythologized that it’s difficult to determine who actually wrote what.

The Vampyre was almost immediately met with attribution confusion. The story was published in New Monthly Magazine in 1819 without Polidori’s permission, and, much to his and Byron’s irritation, was falsely advertised as a new work by the famous poet. The credit was later amended, but the issue only hints at the authorial skepticism Frankenstein also met—a debate that continues to this day.

Chronicle Review‘s current article “The Birth of Frankenstein” analyzes the disputed parentage of Frankenstein—a scandalous affair practically fit for Jerry Springer. While the debate leans in favor of Mary, Chronicle‘s comprehensive account walks through the various points of view regarding the story’s evolution.

Fashion Show Or Science Fiction?

I shall crush your face with my leather studded power glove.

Forget for a moment that the two people pictured here are fashion designer Karl Lagerfeld and the bobble-head formerly known as actress Kate Bosworth. Now imagine this image as a scene from a sci-fi movie.

Leave a description of what you think is happening in the comments section.

The Best Of “Best Of”s

A Boy And His Dog

While I typically object to anything bearing the phrase “Best Of,” Subterranean Press’ Michael Swanwick anthology is a rare exception. The 58-year-old Swanwick may have won five Hugos in six years, but he is also one of those science fiction writers to whom the genre label barely applies.

Swanwick’s stories surpass all adulatory adjectives—they demand the invention of a word imaginative enough to describe his creativity. If “scrumptulescent” weren’t already taken, I might even opt for that.

The collection of stories features time traveling refugees, conniving dogs that can talk, zombie laborers, and the account of a harrowing crash-landing on Jupiter. To describe these stories any further would only be a disservice to the reader, so just buy a copy and find out for yourself.