Producers: Daniel Noah, Josh Waller, Lisa Whalen and Elijah Wood   Director: Richard Stanley   Screenplay: Richard Stanley and Scarlett Amaris   Cast: Nicolas Cage, Joely Richardson, Q’orianka Kilcher, Madeleine Arthur, Brendan Meyer, Julian Hilliard, Elliot Knight and Tommy Chong   Distributor: RLJE Films  

Grade:  B-

Bringing together two cult favorites—writer H.P. Lovecraft and writer-director Richard Stanley (and three if you count star Nicolas Cage)—this modestly-budgeted adaptation of the popular 1927 short story is sufficiently creepy and campy to amuse horror aficionados, if not really scare them. 

In updating what’s actually a pretty simple (and rather silly) tale, Stanley has kept the location—a remote forest area outside the small Massachusetts town of Arkham—but moved Lovecraft’s tale of an encounter with a destructive meteorite from the nineteenth century to the present.  He has kept the story’s narrator, but made him a person directly involved in the action rather than someone trying to uncover evidence of what happened years later. It’s Ward Philips (Elliot Knight), a young surveyor sent into the area to assess conditions—including the quality of the water—pursuant to a major project proposed by Mayor Tooma (Q’orianka Kitcher). 

Philips meets Lavinia Gardner (Madeleine Arthur) in the forest.  She’s the daughter of Nathan (Cage), who’s brought his family to an isolated homestead where he’s raising vegetables and a small herd of alpacas.  Lavinia is performing a ritual designed to seek supernatural help in curing her mother Theresa (Joely Richardson) of cancer.  And she will develop a romantic interest in Ward, who reciprocates her interest.

The Gardner family—which also includes Lavinia’s younger brothers Benny (Brendan Meyer) and Jack (Julian Hilliard)—is soon confronted by an interstellar visitor, a meteorite that lands in their yard and emits a terrible stench and a weird, psychedelic glow.  Nathan will call in the authorities and be inundated with media inquiries, but essentially the Gardners will be left to deal with the ramifications themselves.

And they are severe.  The meteorite will bring a bountiful crop of huge vegetables, but they will be tasteless.  And its unearthly glow will affect the insect life in the area, and the water in the well, and the animals, which morph into grotesque and dangerous shapes.

It will also have a terrible impact on the Gardners themselves.

Meanwhile Philips continues his investigation, questioning a strange local recluse, Ezra (Tommy Chong), who claims to be hearing sounds from underground that portend that something horrifying—indeed, apocalyptic—is happening.

Stanley’s approach to this material is less radical than one might expect from his reputation; the film is stylishly made on what might have been a small budget (Katie Byron’s production design and Steve Annis’ cinematography emphasize elegance, Brett W. Bachman’s editing is lapidary rather than agitated, and the visual effects are relatively modest, using gauzy visuals to obscure the fact).  Nor is Colin Stetson’s droning score particularly distinctive, but it does the job.

But what makes “Color Out of Space” enjoyable is the cast, and especially Cage, who starts out making Nathan peculiar and ratchets up the temperature from there.  By the close he’s in full-bore manic mode, enjoying a few scenes where he goes completely berserk before succumbing, as most of the rest of his family already has, to the meteorite’s malignant power. The rest of the actors offer able support, but it’s Cage who really carries the film with one of his patented oddball turns. 

The result is a film that’s hardly a horror masterpiece but one that, like Stuart Gordon’s eighties Lovecraft adaptations “Re-Animator” and “From Beyond,” is—perhaps implausibly—a good deal of fun.      

Producers: Kathleen Kennedy, J.J. Abrams and Michelle Rejwan   Director: J.J. Abrams   Screenplay: Chris Terrio and J.J. Abrams   Cast: Daisy Ridley, Adam Driver, John Boyega, Oscar Isaac, Anthony Daniels, Naomi Ackie, Domhnall Gleeson, Richard E. Grant, Lupita Nyong’o, Keri Russell, Joonas Suotamo, Kelly Marie Tran, Dominic Monaghan, Carrie Fisher, Mark Hamill, Billy Dee Williams and Ian McDiarmid   Distributor: Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures

Grade:  B-

This, the third episode of the third “Star Wars” trilogy, brings the saga that began more than four decades ago to a close, resolving the plotlines of its two immediate predecessors—and the nine-movie series as a whole—while creating a springboard for inevitable continuations and spinoffs.  What else would you expect from a picture that Disney is banking on to ensure a long future for one of its most important franchises?

As you might remember, “The Last Jedi,” which split Star Wars fandom rather badly, ended with the surviving members of the Resistance, led by heroic Rey (Daisy Ridley) and Princess (or General) Leia (Carrie Fisher), on the run from the evil First Order, the leadership of which had been seized by Han Solo and Princess Leia’s wayward son Ben, aka Kylo Ren (Adam Driver), who patterned himself after Darth Vader.

But there’s a wild card in the deck: as the usual opening crawl informs us, mysterious broadcasts have announced the return of Emperor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid), who was supposedly killed by Darth Vader in “The Return of the Jedi” back when Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) was just a youngster; he’s rebuilding Sith power and plans to restore his dark rule. The reports turn out to be true, and Palpatine, with his lightning-launching fingers and maniacal cackling, turns out to be a major figure here—so much so that a more appropriate subtitle for the movie might be “The Emperor Strikes Back.”

Palpatine’s pretensions to dominance irk Kylo Ren, who determines to seek him out and destroy him.  Simultaneously the Resistance, as decimated as it is, launches a mission to find Palpatine too, with Rey and its head but also including ace pilot Poe (Oscar Isaac), ex-Storm Trooper Finn (John Boyega), Wookie Chewbacca (Jonas Suotamo) and chatty android C3-PO (Anthony Daniels).  Their goal—to find the elusive planet Exogol where Palpatine lords it over his Sith disciples—is complicated by their pursuit by Kylo Ren and his forces, among whom Dohmnall Gleeson and Richard E. Grant are the most notable officers, Generals Hux and Pryde.  It’s also derailed by the fact that their only solid clue is written in the Sith language that C3-PO can read but is programmed not to translate, which requires a detour to a dangerous planet where the mechanical man’s system can be rewired, with major side effects, to reveal the message. 

In working out these various juxtaposed plot threads, the movie becomes a succession of elaborate action sequences, including some light-saber face-offs between Rey and Kylo Ren that are pretty spectacular, if not unfamiliar.  The effects throughout the breathless series of chases, explosions and air battles are fine, though perhaps not quite as impressively grandiose overall as the ones that filled “The Last Jedi.”  An added benefit is a series of appearances by old friends—some in the form of ghostly apparitions (always impeccably timed to save things at a critical juncture, of course)—but in the case of Billy Dee Williams’ Lando Carlrissian and Fisher’s Leia Organa, still very much alive although the actress had actually passed away before shooting commenced (dialogue filmed for previous installments but unused has been skillfully employed to create a performance, though in a few instances stand-ins were obviously employed). These—and one uncredited cameo—are undoubtedly designed to fulfill the nostalgia-fueled expectations of faithful fans. 

There’s also a genealogical revelation intended to be as much of a shock as the famous one at the close of “The Empire Strikes Back,” as well as more than the usual quota of reversals, double-crosses, hair’s-breadth escapes and dramatic self-sacrifices.  Expect also the obligatory moment when Rey decides to abandon her destiny; the character who recalls her to her sense of duty trumpets a line that seems to be something of a rebuke by Abrams to narrative choices made by Rain Johnson in “Jedi”—decisions to which many fans vociferously objected.

The culmination of all the hullabaloo, of course, is twofold.  One part is a confrontation with Palpatine in his gloomy, cavernous throne room, an amphitheatre where he’s apparently surrounded perpetually by an army of cheering acolytes (the crowd looks enormous in distant CGI shots, less so in the rather puny close-ups).  Whom he’s facing will not be revealed here, but McDiarmid certainly takes the opportunity to have the once (and perhaps future) emperor chew the scenery with unmitigated glee—though perhaps the phrase is misplaced, since the poor old fellow doesn’t seem to have any teeth, just that oily black fluid sloshing around in his mouth.

Then there’s the complementary battle in the sky between Palpatine’s vast armada and the ragtag group of fighters on the Resistance side.  Will our heroes be able to overcome the might of the planet-destroying starships?  Will reinforcements arrive in time, or at all?  What do you think?

You can’t say that Abrams and co-writer Chris Terrio haven’t aimed to hit all the bases in their summing-up project.  In the process they’ve scrimped somewhat on the humor: the bickering among the principals, especially Poe and Finn, has a rather pro forma feel, and even C3-PO’s complaints are sometimes forced.  There’s also a tendency to lay on the sentiment rather thick.  Worse, they tend to ignore the responsibility to explain basic questions—how did this character escape, why didn’t that one do this, how is this guy still alive?—while allowing other elements (like Palpatine’s protracted revelations about his plans) to drag on needlessly.  By the close you will probably be adding up plot holes in your mind even as the credits roll.

To compensate, Abrams, abetted by his editors Maryann Brandon and Stefan Grube, adopt an almost relentlessly hectic pace, complete with some of those old-fashioned swipes, hoping that the kinetic energy will distract you from any such trivial concerns, and it mostly works.  He also benefits from sterling efforts by the crafts team—production designers Rick Carter and Kevin Jenkins, costumer Michael Kaplan and cinematographer Dan Mindel, as well as the huge team of special-effects artisans.  And washing over the sumptuous visuals is the equally luxurious score by John Williams, which calls on his iconic themes to enhance every scene.  

Abrams also gets committed performances from his cast, especially Ridley, who has to do most of the heavy dramatic lifting, and Driver, who tries to bring some real anguish to the conflicted Kylo Ren.  Except for McDiarmid, whose outlandish villainy would make Ming the Merciless envious, the others give mostly utilitarian performances, though it’s amusing to see Grant doing what amounts to a snooty homage to Peter Cushing, who isn’t digitally resurrected this time around.

Despite all the efforts of cast and crew, “The Rise of Skywalker” doesn’t recapture the almost magical vibe that “A New Hope” (as it was retitled) and “The Empire Strikes Back” did in their time.  But it’s really unrealistic to expect it to.  With those films George Lucas initiated a retro type of Hollywood storytelling, refreshed with up-to-date technical wizardry, that’s now become the norm: every tentpole movie the studios turn out unrelentingly today is a descendent of “Star Wars.”   One can’t blame Abrams for not being able to duplicate the spirit of juvenile rediscovery that seemed fresh in 1977.

What he’s delivered is a thoroughly proficient if rather mechanical capstone to a series that, despite its ups and downs, captured the imagination of generations of movie-goers.