David Ogden Stiers

Perry Mason: The Case of the Lady in the Lake (1988, Ron Satlof)

There are many things wrong with Perry Mason: The Case of the Lady in the Lake, starting with the title being a little long followed by the first red herring in the movie, which is in its first scene. Then the next red herring is in the second scene and so on and so on. Actually, I don’t think I really noticed it as the movie was playing out because so much else is bad about it, but the way screenwriter Shel Willens perturbs the plot is something awful. It’s too functional and too dismissive. Lady’s script is impatient, which is simultaneously good and bad.

It’s good because so much of the acting in the movie is terrible. David Hasselhoff, John Beck, Doran Clark, John Ireland, and Liane Langland are all bad. I even wanted to cut Beck some slack and it’s just not possible. He’s just bad. Hasselhoff’s terrible and he’s trying, which makes it even worse. Doran Clark’s weak. John Ireland’s weak but it doesn’t matter because he disappears. He’s just there to bring Raymond Burr into the story.

As for Burr, he’s great. It’s a terrible courtroom sequence in this one but Burr plays the hell out of it. Even David Ogden Stiers gets going as the district attorney. For some reason, even though the script is bad, it gave its capable actors opportunities. Of course, poor Barbara Hale gets jack to do in this one. Except to solve the case for Burr and set William Katt up on a blind date. And Katt’s pretty good. He’s better than he’s been in the last few Mason movies anyway.

So what else is wrong with it? The direction. Satlof does a bad job. He never establishes a tone–it’s even comical when Katt finds himself in trouble, if only because of Dick DeBenedictis’s weird score–and he’s crap with the actors. Really bad photography from Arch Bryant this time out; he’s shot the entire series and I’ve never mentioned him before because he’s fine. Only not here. It’s like Lady is cursed.

There’s some decent location shooting and some of the action sequences might work if it weren’t for Satlof’s quirky tone.

Oh, and George DelHoyo is fine. He plays Hasselhoff’s scumbag brother. Terrence Evans is good as the sheriff, but only because he’s clearly not taking it too seriously.

The only standout (who knew Lake could have one) is Audra Lindley. She’s excellent. She’s so much better than almost everyone else in the Lake; she understands this bad of a script requires an actor to bring their own dignity to the part, because it’s not coming from the script, it’s not coming from the director.

Anyway, Lady in the Lake is quite bad, but the regulars are professional enough to muddle through it.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Ron Satlof; teleplay by Shel Willens, based on characters created by Erle Stanley Gardner; director of photography, Arch Bryant; edited by David Solomon; music by Dick DeBenedictis; produced by Peter Katz; aired by the National Broadcasting Company.

Starring Raymond Burr (Perry Mason), Barbara Hale (Della Street), William Katt (Paul Drake Jr.), Doran Clark (Sara Wingate-Travis), David Hasselhoff (Billy Travis), John Ireland (Walter), Liane Langland (Lisa Blake), John Beck (Doug Vickers), Audra Lindley (Mrs. Chaney), George DelHoyo (Frank Travis), Darrell Larson (Skip Wingate), Terrence Evans (Sheriff Ed Prine) and David Ogden Stiers (D.A. Michael Reston).


Perry Mason: The Case of the Avenging Ace (1988, Christian I. Nyby II)

Perry Mason: The Case of the Avenging Ace is a domino effect of lame. Lee David Zlotoff’s script is really bad, but director Nyby is also really bad, and then some of the performances are really bad. Some of the performances a Perry Mason TV movie needs to be okay aren’t okay here. Avenging Ace is relentlessly tepid.

Zlotoff’s plot construction is a departure from the series norm, with Raymond Burr and Barbara Hale around from the beginning. Only Hale doesn’t have anything to do and Burr’s got maybe eight minutes before any character development is halted again. And not just because of the script, but because Nyby doesn’t handle the transition well. There are few good performances in Avenging Ace; Burr is one of them. He manages to rise above the incompetencies. Pretty much no one else succeeds at it.

Poor Hale has maybe six lines. She doesn’t even get to sit at the counsel table for most of the trial, which is the worst written part of the whole movie. Not to get off track, but Zlotoff’s trial scene is awful. Burr just yells at people and David Ogden Stiers looks scared. Stiers doesn’t do well this time around. His performance is weak. The writing’s weak, but he doesn’t put anything into it. Same goes for William Katt. He’s charmless. With a mullet. He’s so bad, it’s hard to remember him being likable before. And a lot of it is Nyby’s direction. Sure, David Solomon’s editing plays a part, but it’s Nyby. He can’t direct actors. Or action. Or suspense. Or intrigue.

Erin Gray’s Katt’s love interest for a while, but then she disappears. She’s established as a badass Air Force captain and then gets reduced to Katt yelling exposition at her. Then she gets dropped for a while, though coming back just in time for some romantic suggestion. Between her and Katt, of course, who have absolutely no chemistry together whatsoever. If I could fit more negative adjectives in that sentence, I would. It’s so weak.

Larry Wilcox is fine. Charles Siebert, James Sutorius. Fine. Gary Hershberger is awful. Richard Sanders would be perfectly good if Nyby had any idea the tone Ztoloff’s going for in the dumb script. Instead, Sanders is just weird. He gives a weird performance. Not a successful one either, which pains me to say. Patty Duke’s okay. Sort of. She gets a pass. James McEachin’s returning cop is kind of weak. Nyby apparently directed him to appear like a jerk in court.

Avenging Ace is a tedious, mind numbing experience. Not even Dick DeBenedictis’s music is any good.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Christian I. Nyby II; teleplay by Lee David Zlotoff, based on characters created by Erle Stanley Gardner; director of photography, Arch Bryant; edited by Carter DeHaven and David Solomon; music by Dick DeBenedictis; produced by Peter Katz; aired by the National Broadcasting Company.

Starring Raymond Burr (Perry Mason), Barbara Hale (Della Street), William Katt (Paul Drake Jr.), Erin Gray (Captain Terry O’Malley), Larry Wilcox (Lieutenant Colonel Kevin Parks), Charles Siebert (Jason Sloan), James Sutorius (Mark Egan), Patty Duke (Althea Sloan), Arthur Taxier (Frank Johnson), James McEachin (Police Sergeant Clifford Brock), Richard Sanders (Chester Lackberry), Gary Hershberger (Lieutenant Wilkins) and David Ogden Stiers (D.A. Michael Reston).


Perry Mason: The Case of the Scandalous Scoundrel (1987, Christian I. Nyby II)

Perry Mason: The Case of the Scandalous Scoundrel is a bit disappointing. It’s got a really lame script from Anthony Spinner. Spinner doesn’t have a good mystery, he doesn’t write characters well, he writes dialogue something awful. So there are no expectations from the script. However, Scoundrel has a great cast. A great cast who often can even get water from the stony script.

So it’s a bit disappointing. It’s kind of pleasant to watch, mostly because Barbara Hale has this secret admirer C plot and it gives her something to do. And Raymond Burr’s got some fine moments. Director Nyby doesn’t direct the scenes well–Burr’s fine moments, I mean–but he’s not disruptive. Burr still gets the moment, just not as effectively as he could have.

And some of Nyby’s direction is solid. If it’s interiors and not back and forth dialogue, he does some pretty darn good work for a TV movie. Everything else is a bit of a mess. Not always a big mess, but definitely some kind of one. He shoots terrible coverage.

Now, the cast. William Katt’s romancing defendant Susan Wilder. She’s not good, but she’s not bad. Morgan Brittany is bad. Other than those two performances, everything is great. Yaphet Kotto’s an ex-army general, Wings Hauser’s his sidekick. They’re both good, but Hauser’s actually awesome. Good enough even Nyby figured out how to direct his scenes. George Grizzard’s Brittany’s suffering husband. He’s good. René Enríquez’s a corrupt banker. He’s good. Robert Guillaume’s a loathsome tabloid king. He’s not so much good as it’s really cool to see him play loathsome. He revels in it. And Eugene Butler is excellent as Guillaume’s sidekick. Lots of sidekicks in Scoundrel, probably because Spinner’s quite bad at plotting out a mystery.

Not a great hour for David Ogden Stiers. He and Burr don’t have any actual rapport, which just makes it seem like Stiers is a buffoon. It’s also a little strange to see James McEachin showing up as a dimwit instead of his regular cop part. It’s like there’s some joke and the viewer is left out.

Technically it’s fine, other than a weak score from the usually solid Dick DeBenedictis.

Scoundrel has a lot of good actors giving good performances from a terrible script. It’s engaging so long as the actors are weathering that script well. And Nyby certainly doesn’t help things. The handful of well-directed scenes can’t make up for the rest, especially not with the dumb script.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Christian I. Nyby II; teleplay by Anthony Spinner, based on characters created by Erle Stanley Gardner; director of photography, Arch Bryant; edited by Carter DeHaven and David Solomon; music by Dick DeBenedictis; produced by Peter Katz; aired by the National Broadcasting Company.

Starring Raymond Burr (Perry Mason), Barbara Hale (Della Street), William Katt (Paul Drake Jr.), Susan Wilder (Michelle Benti), Robert Guillaume (Harlan Wade), Eugene Butler (Nick Moretti), George Grizzard (Dr. Clayman), Morgan Brittany (Marianne Clayman), René Enríquez (Oscar Ortega), Wings Hauser (Capt. James Rivers), Yaphet Kotto (General Sorenson) and David Ogden Stiers (Michael Reston).


Perry Mason: The Case of the Murdered Madam (1987, Ron Satlof)

I’m going to say something I never expected to say. Ron Satlof does a good job directing Perry Mason: The Case of the Murdered Madam. He’s a regular director on the series and he’s never directed one as well as this one. The showdown between Raymond Burr and guilty party is fantastic. Satlof does well, editors Carter DeHaven and David Solomon do well, composer Dick DeBenedictis does well. Satlof’s got some awkward moments throughout, but between the finale and some of the thriller sequences, Murdered Madam is perfectly acceptable. Often effective.

Occasionally the cast helps with the effective, occasionally not. Ann Jillian’s okay; she does great in the thriller stuff, so Satlof basically just has to showcase her and he does. Barbara Hale gets a little more to do this time. She’s good. James Noble’s a good suspect. Richard Portnow’s a good vile criminal. Jason Bernard’s all right. Doesn’t get enough to do, but he keeps things together as the police detective. And Daphne Ashbrook’s a fine female sidekick for William Katt.

I just said all the nice things because now it’s time for the not nice things. Vincent Baggetta gives a really strange and bad performance as Burr’s client. There’s a real disconnect between how he portrays the character and how the character’s supposed to connect with the viewer. It’s Perry Mason, we’re supposed to like the defendant because they’re innocent. Baggetta’s clearly innocent but it doesn’t matter. He’s kind of a tool. And Bill Macy’s weak as another suspect. He’s annoying in such a way it breaks the flow of the movie as much as the commercial breaks.

Finally, at least as the acting goes, David Ogden Stiers is getting way real bored. He doesn’t even seem to be trying anymore. He’s opposing council and just comes off as a stooge. It’s because he doesn’t get enough material.

Other than not evening out material correctly, Patricia Green’s script is okay. It’s a little too cute at times, but the actors often can pull it off–especially when it’s Hale and Burr–and there’s a strange lack of tension throughout. Maybe because Baggetta’s such a tool; he’s got nothing to do with his own case. Burr and company aren’t so much defending him as uncovering multiple conspiracies.

What Murdered Madam lacks in specific amusements, it makes up for with its adequateness. I’m sort of more impressed now than when I finished watching it; even if his direction isn’t great, I’m impressed with what Satlof did here. It’s kind of messy and he does succeed in giving it flow.

1/4

CREDITS

Directed by Ron Satlof; teleplay by Patricia Green, based on characters created by Erle Stanley Gardner; director of photography, Arch Bryant; edited by Carter DeHaven and David Solomon; music by Dick DeBenedictis; produced by Peter Katz; aired by the National Broadcasting Company.

Starring Raymond Burr (Perry Mason), Barbara Hale (Della Street), William Katt (Paul Drake Jr.), Vincent Baggetta (Tony Domenico), Ann Jillian (Suzanne), Daphne Ashbrook (Miranda Bonner), Jason Bernard (Sergeant Koslow), Anthony Geary (Steve Reynolds), Bill Macy (Richard Wilson), James Noble (Leonard Weeks), John Rhys-Davies (Edward Tremaine) and David Ogden Stiers (D.A. Michael Reston).


Perry Mason: The Case of the Sinister Spirit (1987, Richard Lang)

The Case of the Sinister Spirit has some problems. Mostly in the cast, some in the story. And cinematographer Arch Bryant really doesn’t make the haunted hotel sequences scary. There’s some okay lighting at times too–in the haunted hotel–but it’s never scary. Lang’s direction is trying for scary, Dick DeBenedictis’s music is going for scary. Even David Solomon’s editing is going for scary. But it doesn’t come off well enough.

It does, however, come off as unsettling. Unsettling isn’t bad for a TV movie, especially not as genial a TV movie as Sinister Spirit. There’s not a lot of danger in it, just supernatural intrigue. It opens with Raymond Burr having a nightmare because of some novel he’s reading by a Stephen King type. Turns out someone kills the author. Burr’s got to defend his old pal, Robert Stack, and all the other suspects are staying in the haunted hotel. It’s a great–completely absurd–plot device from writer Anne Collins. Sinister Spirit spends at least the first half constantly putting one character or another in danger, though it’s usually Kim Delaney, which is fine because she’s good.

So the good supporting performances–Kim Delaney, Leigh Taylor-Young. The bad one is Dwight Schultz. No one else is particularly good–I mean, Stack is phoning it in so much he’d probably give a better read for a Mentos commercial, but he’s not terrible. Schultz is terrible. He sometimes affects an accent, then changes it, then drops it. It’s a bad performance. The other performances are about par for a TV movie.

As far as the regulars go, Burr’s got quite a bit to do since he, Barbara Hale and William Katt are all staying at the haunted hotel too. Burr does all the investigative interviews while Katt flirts with Delaney. While she’s good and he’s amiable, Katt looks bored. And, as usual, Hale doesn’t get anything to do. She and Burr have a couple nice moments together but she does absolutely nothing except tell him what’s what when they’re getting ready for court.

Everything gets rocky in the second half, then worse in the courtroom reveal. It’s a little much, but there’s enough goodwill–and a last minute restock of Delaney likability–to get Sinister Spirit to a satisfactory conclusion.

1/4

CREDITS

Directed by Richard Lang; teleplay by Anne Collins, based on a story by Dean Hargrove, Joel Steiger, Glenn M. Benest and Timothy Wurtz and characters created by Erle Stanley Gardner; director of photography, Arch Bryant; edited by David Solomon; music by Dick DeBenedictis; produced by Barry Steinberg; aired by the National Broadcasting Company.

Starring Raymond Burr (Perry Mason), Barbara Hale (Della Street), William Katt (Paul Drake Jr.), Robert Stack (Jordan White), Dwight Schultz (Andrew Lloyd), Kim Delaney (Susan Warrenfield), Dennis Lipscomb (Michael Light), Jack Bannon (Donald Sayer), Leigh Taylor-Young (Maura McGuire), Matthew Faison (David Hall) and David Ogden Stiers (D.A. Michael Reston).


Perry Mason: The Case of the Lost Love (1987, Ron Satlof)

The Case of the Lost Love is a rather charmless Perry Mason outing. Jean Simmons is an old flame of Raymond Burr’s and he ends up defending her ungrateful husband (Gene Barry). Simmons and Burr have some chemistry as Lost Love establishes their history, but the movie’s so technically inept, it never quite comes across right. Simmons doesn’t get a reasonable character to play so Burr can’t react to her reasonably. And Barry’s just lame, both in terms of script characterization and performance.

There’s a lot of lame acting in the movie. Most of it is because it’d be impossible to be anything but lame given the technical problems. Director Satlof doesn’t give editor David Solomon enough coverage, but Solomon doesn’t even cut the stuff he does get well. And Arch Bryant’s photography is weak, so the shots rarely distinguish themselves visually. And Satlof’s really bad with the actors here. Not even Gordon Jump can survive Lost Love.

Performance wise, Barry, Stephen Elliott, Robert F. Lyons and Leslie Wing are the worst. Wing is the female cop who gets to get chatted up by William Katt. Katt’s got a far less interesting wardrobe than usual this time. He and Wing have negative chemistry. There’s really nothing going for Lost Love, not after Simmons starts getting strange and Burr spends all his time doing the investigating. Writer Anne Collins hints to doing something with Burr and Barry, but it doesn’t come across. It’s way too forced. And the less said about Simmons and Barbara Hale’s interactions the better.

Everything about Lost Love is either forced or contrived, which makes it exhausting. The weak supporting performances mean there’s no joy in seeing them get to act. Except Jonathan Banks, of course. He’s trying really hard and not getting any support from Satlof. There’s almost a good performance there. Almost, but not really.

And the mystery itself is lame. Collins tries doing something different with it–having Burr doing the important investigating, trying to present necessary information to the viewer to keep them interested, but it doesn’t work. Not just because of Satlof’s direction, but because the script’s poorly paced. And Hale gets nothing to do, which seems to be a trend.

Case of the Lost Love needed to percolate some more before getting released on an unsuspecting public.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Ron Satlof; teleplay by Anne Collins, based on a story by Dean Hargrove and Joel Steiger and characters created by Erle Stanley Gardner; director of photography, Arch Bryant; edited by David Solomon; music by Dick DeBenedictis; produced by Barry Steinberg; aired by the National Broadcasting Company.

Starring Raymond Burr (Perry Mason), Barbara Hale (Della Street), William Katt (Paul Drake Jr.), Jean Simmons (Laura Robertson), Gene Barry (Glenn Robertson), Jonathan Banks (Luke Dickson), Leslie Wing (Det. Sgt. Austin), Robert Mandan (Dr. Michaels), Robert Walden (Robert Lane), Stephen Elliott (Elliot Moore), Robert F. Lyons (Pete Dickson), Stephanie Dunnam (Jennifer Parker), Gordon Jump (Arthur) and David Ogden Stiers (D.A. Michael Reston).


Perry Mason: The Case of the Shooting Star (1986, Ron Satlof)

There’s a lot of camp value to The Case of the Shooting Star. During William Katt’s investigation scenes, his clothes get more and more absurd. At one point he’s wearing a jacket with a tiger on it. Then he gets sidekick and flirtation partner Wendy Crewson, who wears really loud eighties pants, and it becomes more about their banter.

But the camp factor is more than just Katt, it’s the plot–Joe Penny’s a hotheaded action movie actor-director (Joe Penny playing Clint Eastwood)–and it’s how they keep making a big deal out of shooting in New York when the movie was obviously filmed somewhere else (Toronto). Only it must have shot somewhere else too because the tough neighborhood set has palm trees in the background.

And Alan Thicke plays a talk show host. What’s not campy about Alan Thicke playing a talk show host.

Even without the camp value though, Shooting Star’s a pretty solid diversion. Katt’s likable, especially with Crewson. Thicke’s good, Penny’s good enough. There are a lot of decent supporting turns–Ron Glass, Ross Petty, Mary Kane, J. Kenneth Campbell. Opposing counsel David Ogden Stiers seems a little better this time out. He pretends to take it a little more seriously. And Jennifer O’Neill is great as an old friend of Perry Mason. She gets a lot to do in the first act and she’s fantastic. The script doesn’t give her as much to do later, which is too bad, but she’s solid to the melodramatic finish.

Speaking of the script, Anne Collins does an excellent job juggling all the characters and all the expository dialogue. It’s not a great murder mystery, but it’s smooth and digestible writing.

Technically, the movie’s a bit of a disaster because of different film stocks. It’s even worse because camera setups figure into the story and so Shooting Star invites the viewer to think about how poorly the setups are working in this movie. Satlof’s direction isn’t as bad as I was expecting. He’s still weak on coverage, but he is giving his actors more space to move around here.

Oh. Yeah. Speaking of the lead actors. Burr’s good. He’s got some character stuff, not always successful but usually, he’s got the lawyer stuff, not always successful but usually, and he’s got a decent enough teleplay to get him through. Unfortunately, Barbara Hale gets nothing to do in this entry. Otherwise, it delivers on all promise a Perry Mason TV movie can offer.

1/4

CREDITS

Directed by Ron Satlof; teleplay by Anne Collins, based on a story by Dean Hargrove and Joel Steiger and characters created by Erle Stanley Gardner; director of photography, Héctor R. Figueroa; edited by David Solomon; music by Dick DeBenedictis; produced by Barry Steinberg; aired by the National Broadcasting Company.

Starring Raymond Burr (Perry Mason), Barbara Hale (Della Street), William Katt (Paul Drake Jr.), Joe Penny (Robert McCay), Wendy Crewson (Michelle Benti), Jennifer O’Neill (Alison Carr), Alan Thicke (Steve Carr), Lisa Howard (Sharon Loring), Ross Petty (Peter Towne), Mary Kane (Kate Huntley), Ron Glass (Eric Brenner), J. Kenneth Campbell (Ray Anderson), David Ogden Stiers (D.A. Michael Reston) and Ivan Dixon (the judge).


Perry Mason: The Case of the Notorious Nun (1986, Ron Satlof)

So Perry Mason: The Case of the Notorious Nun. It’s not good. It is not a good TV movie. Even if the writing were better, Satlof is a lousy director. And Héctor R. Figueroa’s photography is quite bad. The lighting in the courtroom finale changes between shots. The editing is already graceless–more because of Satlof’s weak composition and blocking than the editors–and the lighting just kills it.

But the real problem is something else entirely–Joel Steiger’s teleplay is bad. It’s kind of ambitious, but it’s bad at it. The design of this Perry Mason is as follows, there’s Raymond Burr doing stuff, there’s William Katt doing stuff, there’s Barbara Hale sometimes doing stuff with Burr but not really anything consequential except provide emotional support to Michele Greene (the titular Notorious Nun), and Green’s crisis about taking her final vows. Steiger gives all the character development to Greene and it’s awful. Greene tries with it too. She really does try to make this material work and maybe if Satlof weren’t terrible, it’d go better.

Then there’s the guest stars. Timothy Bottoms as an honest, priest stud. Jon Cyphers as an arrogant doctor. Tom Bosley as a sweet priest. Arthur Hill as a prick lawyer. Not much inventive casting, but sturdy acting. Of those caricatures, Cyphers does the best. He has the most to do. Decent villain in Hagan Beggs. He gets a lot of Dick DeBenedictis’s craziest thriller music. Can’t forget to talk about the music.

But real quick on the cast–David Ogden Stiers as the D.A., James McEachin as the cop. These character slots aren’t really important–McEachin does get to show some personality opposite Katt, but none in the expository-only scenes. And Stiers is competent but the material’s bad. You watch him and wonder if he knows his legal reasoning lines are stupid.

Burr’s fine, of course. Katt’s a little bit too much of a jackass this time out. And Hale really doesn’t have enough to do.

Oh, right, the music. Dick DeBenedictis does some crazy music for this thing. Slasher movie, gothic horror synthesizer music for the main cast’s theme, melodramatic tripe. It’s all over the place and occasionally awesome.

There’s not a good reveal at the end, which is all a Perry Mason needs to be a success. Steiger backloads the thrills and it ruins to momentum. It’s a TV movie, it’s got to keep you occupied through commercials, only Steiger and Stalof haven’t got any momentum. Only DeBenedictis does. And the cast could be charming with better material. But it’s still not successful, not at all.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Ron Satlof; teleplay by Joel Steiger, based on characters created by Erle Stanley Gardner; director of photography, Héctor R. Figueroa; edited by George Ohanian and Robert L. Kimble; music by Dick DeBenedictis; production designer, Richard Wilcox; produced by Barry Steinberg; aired by the National Broadcasting Company.

Starring Raymond Burr (Perry Mason), Barbara Hale (Della Street), William Katt (Paul Drake Jr.), Michele Greene (Sister Margaret), James McEachin (Lt. Ed Brock), David Ogden Stiers (D.A. Michael Reston), William Prince (Archbishop Stefan Corro), Timothy Bottoms (Father Thomas O’Neil), Hagan Beggs (Richard Logan), Jon Cypher (Dr. Peter Lattimore), Gerald S. O’Loughlin (Monsignor Kyser), Edward Winter (Jonathan Eastman), Barbara Parkins (Ellen Cartwright), Tom Bosley (Father Chris DeLeon) and Arthur Hill (Thomas Shea).


Justice League of America (1997, Félix Enríquez Alcalá)

Justice League of America is a strange mix of okay and terrible. What it does have going for it is sincerity. Sure, there’s a fair amount of incompetence thrown in and director Alcalá is awful and the script from Lorne Cameron and David Hoselton is bad… but there are actually some good things about it.

The problem is Alcalà and the writers don’t seem to get what works. It’s funny to have superheroes running around suburban Vancouver. Alcalà just doesn’t know how to shoot establishing shots. It makes League–a mercifully failed television pilot–look cheap when they could have just as easily made it look thrifty.

The concept–think “Real World,” but a very nice one, mixed with superheroes–is fine. The cast is mostly appealing. Kimberly Oja’s good as the newbie superhero. Matthew Settle’s good, Michelle Hurd’s really good, Kenny Johnston manages to be okay even though he’s got the worst dialogue. Of the principals, only John Kassir is bad. And he’s even inoffensive in the “Real World” interviews….

Miguel Ferrer’s downright great as Oja’s boss and David Krumholtz is hilarious as a teenager courting Hurd. How Alcalà got such sincere performances out of the cast–especially when the costumes are so ludicrous (which no one seems to acknowledge, another shortcoming)–is beyond me. He doesn’t do anything else right.

Oh. David Ogden Stiers. I think he was happiest of all League didn’t get a series order.

There’s no reason to watch Justice League… but it’s got moments.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Félix Enríquez Alcalá; written by Lorne Cameron and David Hoselton; director of photography, Barry M. Wilson; edited by Ed Rothkowitz; music by John Debney; production designer, James Lima; produced by Larry Rapaport.

Starring Matthew Settle (Guy Gardner), Kimberly Oja (Tori Olafsdotter), John Kassir (Ray Palmer), Michelle Hurd (B.B. DaCosta), Kenny Johnston (Barry Allen), David Krumholtz (Martin), Elisa Donovan (Cheryl), Ron Pearson (Dr. Arliss Hopke), David Ogden Stiers (J’onn J’onzz) and Miguel Ferrer (Dr. Eno).


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