Guilty Pleasure No. 90: Ice Station Zebra (dir. by John Sturges)

Posted on November 29, 2025 by Arleigh

Ice Station Zebra, directed by John Sturges in 1968, slides into guilty pleasure territory like a submarine slipping under polar ice—full of big Cold War ambitions, shadowy spy games, and submarine peril that tease something epic, but so loaded with pacing hiccups, studio shortcuts, and earnest overreach that it ends up a lopsided, lovably messy ride. Sturges had already cemented his rep with crowd-roaring hits like The Magnificent Seven, where a ragtag posse of gunslingers delivered razor-sharp tension and quotable showdowns, or The Great Escape, a WWII breakout yarn crackling with clever schemes, sweaty escapes, and Steve McQueen’s motorcycle glory. Those films moved like a well-oiled engine, every scene stacking stakes and character beats into unforgettable momentum. By contrast, Ice Station Zebra feels like Sturges chasing that same high-wire ensemble vibe—a U.S. nuclear sub, the USS Tigerfish, barreling toward a trashed Arctic outpost—but bloating into a 148-minute sprawl that swaps tight plotting for endless red-lit corridor glares and withheld mission secrets. It’s not in the same league as his earlier triumphs, lacking their propulsive drive and lived-in grit, yet that very shortfall turns it into quirky comfort viewing for fans who dig flawed ’60s spectacle.

The setup hooks you quick: Commander James Ferraday, Rock Hudson’s square-jawed everyman at the helm, gets tapped for a hush-hush run to Ice Station Zebra after a satellite supposedly carrying spy photos crashes nearby. No full briefing for him, just orders to play it cool while three mystery passengers board—Mr. Jones, a buttoned-up British agent with evasive smirks; Boris Vaslov, Ernest Borgnine’s barrel-chested Russian turncoat oozing fake bonhomie; and Captain Anders, Jim Brown’s steely Marine barking orders over a squad of jarheads. As the Tigerfish dives under thickening ice floes, the sub’s innards come alive with flickering sonar pings, steam-hissing valves, and crewmen hunched over gauges in perpetual sweat. It’s claustrophobic gold at first, the hull creaking like it’s got a bad case of frostbite, echoing the trapped dread Sturges nailed in his POW camp classic but without the same spark of rebellion. Then sabotage strikes—a flooded missile bay, a wild plunge toward crush depth—and fingers start pointing. Who tampered with the ballast? Jones with his locked trunk of gadgets? Vaslov’s too-friendly vodka toasts? The Marines itching for a fight? The scene builds real sweat, divers suiting up in the nick of time, but Sturges lets the fallout drag, turning interrogation into a tea party of suspicions rather than the cutthroat blame game his best films thrived on.

These early stumbles set the tone for a film that’s promising yet perpetually off-kilter, far from the seamless revenge rhythm of The Magnificent Seven‘s dusty trails. Production fingerprints show everywhere: rumors swirl of Navy brass forcing script tweaks to glorify their boats, last-minute casting shifts from bigger names to Hudson, and a roadshow rollout with overture, intermission, and 70mm pomp that screams overambition. The Arctic plunge delivers tense highlights—the sub ramming upward through ice chunks like a whale breaching, sparks flying from shorted panels, crew barking damage reports—but lulls follow with tech jargon dumps and characters circling motives without committing to conflict. Hudson anchors it all with unflappable poise, barking commands like a TV dad in a crisis, but he lacks McQueen’s sly charisma or Yul Brynner’s brooding fire. Borgnine hams it up as Vaslov, his accent flipping from gravelly growl to vaudeville schtick during mess-hall ribbing, while McGoohan brings the sharpest edge as Jones, his dry barbs hinting at deeper layers. Brown’s Anders gets muscle but little nuance, leading a Marine crew that feels like stock tough guys waiting for their cue.

Pushing topside, the flaws bloom into full charm. The ice cap arrival unfolds in sweeping widescreen vistas—endless white expanses, howling gales whipping snow devils—but close-quarters betray the soundstage: actors plodding through “blizzards” in lightweight jackets, no puffing breath in the deep freeze, sets that wobble if you squint. It’s the kind of earnest cheesiness that sinks modern blockbusters but endears this relic, especially when the station siege erupts. Soviets drop from the sky in parachutes like deadly snowflakes, scouring the charred ruins for a buried film capsule packed with NATO missile coords. Americans fan out in white camo, trading potshots amid smoke grenades and collapsing tunnels, loyalties cracking as Vaslov’s true colors flash. Ferraday’s cool bluff seals a three-way stalemate, denying everyone the prize in a nod to mutually assured secrets. Michel Legrand’s score surges here, horns blaring over the chaos like a war drum, giving Sturges’ action chops a late workout. Yet even this payoff sprawls, talky standoffs eating screen time where his peak films would’ve sprinted to the finish.

What seals Ice Station Zebra‘s guilty pleasure status is embracing its dated quirks as features, not bugs—hammy all-male bravado, Cold War jitters turned quaint, plot gaps you could park a destroyer in. Sturges conjures submerged panic and frosty fireworks that nod to his glory days, the sub’s practical effects holding up better than some CGI today, but without the narrative steel of The Great Escape‘s tunnel triumphs or The Magnificent Seven‘s mythic standoffs, it coasts on atmosphere over precision. Clocking 148 minutes, it tests patience with filler like extended sail sequences and coy reveals, yet rewards surrender: grin at Borgnine’s bear hugs masking menace, chuckle at the Navy polish glossing gritty potential, savor the sheer balls of staging Arctic Armageddon on a backlot. Howard Hughes reportedly looped it endlessly in his casino screening rooms, and you get why—it’s hypnotic in its wonkiness, a time capsule of late-’60s Hollywood flexing before New Wave grit crashed the party.

Pop this on a stormy night with cocoa and zero expectations, and Ice Station Zebra shines as cozy flawed fun. Sturges’ touch keeps the chills coming amid the clunkers, delivering submarine squeezes, betrayals under the aurora, and a finale with enough brinkmanship bang to forgive the bloat. It’s no peer to his earlier masterpieces, more a quirky footnote, but that’s the hook: imperfect promise wrapped in icy spectacle, begging a rewatch to spot every goofy grace note. For ’60s thriller buffs, submarine nuts, or anyone needing a break from slick reboots, it’s a frosty, flawed feast worth the dive.

Previous Guilty Pleasures

Made-For-TV Horror: The Initiation of Sarah (dir by Robert Day)

Posted on October 23, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Oh, poor Sarah.

Sarah (Kay Lenz) is attending college with her sister, Patty (Morgan Brittany). Patty is pretty and popular and everyone wants to be her friend. Sarah is withdrawn and a bit moody and people seem to go out of their way to avoid her. Sarah, however, has a secret. She can move and break things with her mind. When a guy on the beach tries to force himself on Patty, Sarah uses her powers to push him away. Later, when Sarah’s upset, she stares at a mirror until it cracks.

When Patty and Sarah visit their mother’s old sorority, Patty is a hit but Sarah is less popular. The bitchy president of the Sorority, Jennifer Lawrence (Morgan Fairchild), is happy to invite Patty to join but she doesn’t want Sarah to be anywhere near her. Sarah ends up joining the outcast PDE sorority. Jennifer, however, remains obsessed with humiliating and destroying Sarah. And Sarah, when she gets angry, has a tendency to cause things to happen….

This film, which aired in 1978, probably sounds like a rip-off of Carrie and, in many ways, it is. For whatever reason, Sarah’s bullies seem to be obsessed with making her as miserable as possible. In Carrie, one reason you hated the bullies was because Sissy Spacek gave such a heart-breaking, vulnerable and empathetic performance as Carrie White. The bullies were terrible to begin with but then to pick on someone as fragile as Carrie? It sucked William Katt had to die but there’s still a reason why the prom inferno makes as many people applaud as scream. In The Initiation of Sarah, Kay Lenz is not particularly sympathetic as Sarah. Even before the bullies start picking on her, Sarah comes across as being angry and bitter about …. well, everything. Patty goes out of her way to take care of her sister but Sarah never seems to appreciate it. Bullies still suck, of course. There’s no excuse for being a bully and Jennifer really does go overboard when it comes to going after Sarah. But Sarah herself still doesn’t necessarily come across as being someone you would want to join your sorority.

What sets The Initiation of Sarah apart from other Carrie rip-offs is the character of Mrs. Hunter (Shelley Winters). Mrs. Hunter founded PDE when she was a student and now, as the school’s resident expert on paganism, she’s the housemother of PDE. As soon as Sarah joins, Mrs. Hunter starts to talk about how Sarah is destined to lead PDE to glory. When another member of PDE, Mouse (Tisa Farrow), takes a look in Mrs. Hunter’s room, she discovers a Satanic altar that is guarded by a fierce looking dog….

That’s right! This isn’t just a rip-off of Carrie. It’s a rip-off of The Omen as well!

Kay Lenz might be a bit on the dull side as Sarah but this film is worth watching for the performance of Morgan Fairchild and, especially, Shelley Winters. As played by Fairchild, Jennifer is more than just a bitch. She’s a sociopath with great hair. Meanwhile, Shelley Winters — especially once the 70s started — was never a particularly low-key or subtle actress. When you cast her as an overbearing housemother who happens to be the high priestess of a cult, you know that you’re going to get something worth watching. Winters attacks the role with a ferocity that is occasionally over-the-top and almost funny but always entertaining.

The Initiation of Sarah is an enjoyable made-for-TV movie. Watch it the next time you’re feeling nostalgic for college life.

Brad reviews NEXT DOOR (1994), a “neighbor from Hell” film starring James Woods and Randy Quaid!

Posted on October 21, 2025 by Bradley Crain

*This sitcom looking picture is not a good indicator of the dark places this movie will go!*

NEXT DOOR (1994) is a dark suburban satire that introduces us to college professor Matt Coler (James Woods), his lovely wife Karen (Kate Capshaw), and their son Bucky, who have recently moved out to the suburbs. As the movie begins, Matt, Karen and even Bucky seem to be slightly obsessing over their next-door neighbors, Lenny and Marci Benedetti (Randy Quaid and Lucinda Jenney). For one, Lenny and Marci enjoy engaging in sexual intercourse on their backyard lawn furniture within view of each of the Coler family members. That’s quite awkward, but more irritatingly, Lenny insists on constantly watering his front yard near Matt’s property, which is having an extremely damaging effect on Matt and Karen’s beloved azaleas. Invited over to the Benedetti’s house for a cookout, Matt and Karen hope to get to know their neighbors a little better, as well as make a polite request of Lenny to not water the area near the boundary of their yards quite so much. We soon find out that Lenny, who works at the local meat packing plant, is loud, obnoxious, smarter than he looks, and seems to have a really big chip on his shoulder towards Matt, who he doesn’t see as being much of a man. He even tells Karen that her husband is a child, and that’s why he went into teaching rather than getting “a real job.” This upsets Karen so she tells Matt it’s time to leave, but before going, they ask Lenny not to water the part of his yard near their flowers so much. That night, Lenny moves the sprinkler even closer to Matt’s yard, which puts the final death knell in the azaleas. Very annoyed, but not wanting to go too far, Matt gets even by spraying Lenny’s outdoor patio furniture with a lot of water as a prank. Lenny doesn’t handle Matt’s prank very well, and this is where things begin getting out of hand, igniting a full-blown feud between the two men. Soon the annoyances of wet furniture and dead flowers give way to outright horror involving poisoned family pets, police investigations, attempted sexual assault, and even attempted murder!

NEXT DOOR, which is a made for Showtime original, starts out as an amusing and entertaining film involving innocent pranks between James Woods’ meek teacher and Randy Quaid’s boorish butcher. As the intensity of the feud picks up between the men, and the retaliations become more and more sinister, I had to pick my jaw up off the floor as it goes to places that aren’t funny at all. The story seems to be trying to make a statement about the class divide, the survival of the fittest, and the danger that lurks behind the picket fences and in the backyards of the innocent looking neighborhoods around us. It does that job well, as I certainly sensed the real danger that the more “civilized” man found himself in when he came up against a man who didn’t really concern himself with societal norms. I have to give a lot of credit to Randy Quaid’s performance as Lenny for making me feel that way. He is simply a force of nature, and his portrayal of the beer guzzling, opinionated, blue collar bully is excellent in its unhingement! Sadly, I’ve known quite a few people who acted way too much like Lenny for my comfort. James Woods is also excellent as the somewhat timid, intelligent college professor who keeps thinking he can talk his way out of this predicament. We know how intense James Woods can be in his best roles, but he’s quite different here as the man who tries to remain reasonable until the very end of the film when he’s finally forced to take a stand for his family’s safety. He doesn’t have the showy role here, but I can definitely identify with his character, as that would be me in this situation. Kate Capshaw and Lucinda Jenney are both appealing as the suffering wives, providing some good support and wit to the proceedings, but this show belongs to the men.

NEXT DOOR is a true horror film as far as I’m concerned, because if I found myself in this kind of situation with my own neighbor, I would consider it a nightmare. There have been a couple of times in my own life where I have found myself in situations with a neighbor that made me uncomfortable. One of those times involved our next-door neighbor driving across the boundary between their yard and ours and then taking our driveway out to the main road instead of using their own, less maintained driveway. This really bothered my wife as they had never asked if they could do it, and it had practically made a “path” that looked like a road at the boundary. Since it bothered my wife, we ended up having a polite conversation with our neighbors, they understood our concerns, and we worked out a plan that worked for all of us. A different time, however, one of our neighbors across the road left their pitbull out and it attacked our small dog in our own yard. It almost killed our dog, requiring her to have emergency surgery from our veterinarian to save her leg, and it also led to high vet bills. Our neighbors refused to discuss the situation with us, and being from West Virginia, my wife wanted us to take the situation to more extreme levels, including getting local law enforcement involved. In a situation like this, you have to truly consider how far you want to take a situation and then be prepared for the whatever events could follow. There’s a lot of unknown, and it’s pretty scary to be honest with you.

Ultimately, I would have to admit that I didn’t really enjoy NEXT DOOR very much, but I did find it fascinating. I appreciated the great performances of Woods and Quaid, but the movie made me very uncomfortable. If my discomfort was director Tony Bill’s (MY BODYGUARD, FIVE CORNERS, FLYBOYS) goal, it certainly worked. I just think that the farcical nature of the black humor at the beginning didn’t quite mesh with the dark and disturbing elements at the end. Or maybe it just took me places I wasn’t really prepared to go. Either way, it’s still an interesting relic of the 90’s made-for-premium-cable-TV movie. You never knew where those movies were headed! If you’re interested, as of this writing, it’s available for streaming on Tubi.

Retro Television Review: St. Elsewhere 1.3 “Down’s Syndrome”

Posted on November 22, 2024 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Fridays, I will be reviewing St. Elsewhere, a medical show which ran on NBC from 1982 to 1988. The show can be found on Hulu!

This week, we get to know a very bad doctor.

Episode 1.3 “Down’s Syndrome”

(Dir by Mark Tinker, originally aired on November 16th, 1982)

St. Eligius is home to several doctors, some of whom are good at their job and some of whom are really, really bad.

One of the bad ones appears to be Dr. Peter White (Terrence Knox), a resident who was in the background during the previous two episodes but who was at the center for a good deal of this episode. Peter has a terrible bedside manner, absolutely no social skills, and his knowledge of medicine appears to be subpar at best. When a homeless man comes in and complains of pain, Peter gives him a dose of potassium that nearly kills him. (Only the quick thinking of Dr. Ehrlich — who himself hardly appears to be the perfect doctor — keeps the patient alive.) Dr. White seems to be overwhelmed and it certainly doesn’t help that his wife is constantly calling the hospital and demanding to speak to him about every little thing. That said, it’s hard to have much sympathy for Dr. White. Yes, he’s overwhelmed but his mistakes nearly kill a man.

I have to admit that, as I watched Dr. Peter White on this week’s episode, I kept thinking about some of the doctors who treated my father after he had his car accident in May. Whenever I spoke to them, they would brusquely answer my questions, usually in technical language that reflected that it had been a long time since they talked anyone who hadn’t gone to medical school. At the time, I made the same excuses for them that I just made for Dr. White. They were young, they were busy, and they were overwhelmed. After my father died, though, I stopped making excuses for them and I instead just accepted that they weren’t very good at their job. And perhaps Dr. White should admit the same.

It doesn’t help that Dr. White is contrasted with Dr. Auschlander, a kind and elderly liver specialist who is battling cancer but who still manages to treat all of his patients with kindness and respect. The episode made it clear that all of the residents should hope to become a doctor like Dr. Auschlander. While Peter snaps at his patients and nearly kills a man, Auschlander takes the time to play cards with a woman who is dying. We should all be so lucky as to have an Auschlander in our life.

Finally, Brian Whitehill (Tony Bill) and his pregnant wife, Denise (Maureen Whitehill) are informed that their baby will be born with Down’s Syndrome. In a scene that brings to mind Icelandic eugenics, Brian suggests that Denise get an abortion but Denise refuses, especially when she learns that she’s going to have a son. (She already has two daughters.) A day later, Brian comes home from work and tells Denise that he’s realized that she’s right and he’s prepared to be the father of a special needs child. Denise replies that she had the abortion earlier in the day. Seriously, what a depressing story! That said, I respected what the show was doing here. The patients are just as important as the doctors.

(And while Denise is getting an abortion, Dr. Morrison is learning that he’s going to be a father and, in contrast to Brian Whitehill, joyfully cheering in the hospital stairwell.)

As with the previous episode, there was a lot going on in the background. Dr. Beale attempted to analyze terrorist Andrew Reinhardt (Tim Robbins), who is still basically acting like an arrogant prick. Kathleen McAllister, the victim of Reinhardt’s attack, is still in a coma. Dr. Westphall gave a tour of the hospital to two community leaders who both suggested that St. Eligius should shut down and move its operations to a wealthier neighborhood. Dr. Fiscus got a blow job in an elevator from Kathy Martin. (“Going down?” Fiscus asked the next guy who got on the elevator.) It was a busy day at the hospital! It was a good episode, even if it didn’t really have any of the big wow moments that the previous two episodes featured. This episode was more about following a few days in the life of a hospital and the emphasis was on the nonstop flow of patients and doctors, some of whom were doing their best and some of whom were on the verge of giving up. In the end, the main thing I took away from this episode was that there may not be enough Aucschlanders to make up for all the Peter Whites.

Retro Television Reviews: Haunts of the Very Rich (dir by Paul Wendkos)

Posted on February 12, 2023 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Sundays, I will be reviewing the made-for-television movies that used to be a primetime mainstay. Today’s film is 1972’s Haunt of the Very Rich! It can be viewed on YouTube!

The 1972 made-for-TV movie Haunts of the Very Rich opens with a lengthy shot of Lyle (Tony Bill) and Laurie (Donna Mills) sharing a very long kiss. Obviously, they’re very happy and why shouldn’t they be? They’re young. They’re beautiful. They’re in love. They’re newly married. And …. they’re on an airplane!

It’s a private plane, one that’s heading towards a resort called The Portals of Eden. There’s only a few other people on the plane. David Woodrough (Lloyd Bridges) is a businessman who is looking forward to spend some time away from his wife, especially if it means a chance to get to know one of the other passengers, Ellen Blunt (Cloris Leachman). Annette Larner (Anne Francis) is also traveling alone and is hoping she might finally be able to get some sleep without having to take a handful of pills beforehand. Rev. Fellows (Robert Reed) appears to have lost his faith. And then there’s Al Hunsicker (Ed Asner). Hunsicker’s a little bit confused about how he ended up on the airplane. As far as he knows, he’s supposed to be on his way to a business meeting in Dallas. Portals of Eden? Al’s never heard of the place! Of course, nobody on the plane really seems to be sure where they’re going or how they even got on the plane in the first place. Strangely, Al appears to be the only one who finds any of this to be strange.

When the plane lands, they discover that the Portals of Eden is a large hotel sitting at the edge of a tropical wilderness. Their host, the always polite Mr. Seacrist (Moses Gunn), welcomes them but avoids answering anyone’s questions. Seacrist tells them to enjoy their stay.

For the first day, that’s exactly what everyone does. They relax. They indulge in a little pampering. David gets to know Ellen. Al is still worried about getting to his business meeting but he is assured that he can always fly out to Dallas the following day.

The night, a violent storm hits. The next day, everyone wakes up to discover that the resort is nearly deserted. There’s no electricity. There’s no way to call out. There’s not much food. Seacrist tells them not to worry. He assures them that help is on the way. As the guests wait to be rescued, they finally start to wonder just how exactly the ended up at the resort in the first place. They realize that they’ve almost all had a recent brush with death. David swears to Ellen that he’ll file for divorce as soon as they get back home but what if they don’t have a home to which to return? Occasionally, the guests hear a plane flying overhead. At one point, they even see one land. But every time, just when it seems like they’re on the verge of finally being rescued, the plane vanishes.

And things just get stranger from there.

If Jean-Paul Sartre had ended up in the United States, writing for The Bold and the Beautiful, the end result would probably look a lot like Haunts of the Very Rich. Considering that this is a made-for-TV movie from the early 70s, Haunts of the Very Rich is a surprisingly effective and atmospheric little horror film. The story itself won’t exactly win any points for originality. You’ll guess the secret of Portals of Eden long before any of the characters in the film. But still, it’s a well-directed and nicely acted film, one that’s topped off with a suitably surreal (if somewhat abrupt) finale.

Haunts of the Very Rich can currently be found on YouTube and I recommend it for anyone who likes their melodrama served with a side of existential dread.

Horror on the Lens: Haunts of the Very Rich (dir by Paul Wendkos)

Posted on October 10, 2018 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Today’s horror on the lens is a 1972 made-for-TV movie, Haunts of the Very Rich!

What happens when a bunch of rich people find themselves on an airplane with no memory of how they got there? Well, first off, they land at a luxury resort! But what happens when the resort suddenly turns out to be deserted and the guests discover that there’s no apparent way out!?

You can probably already guess the film’s “surprise” ending but Haunts of the Very Rich is still an entertaining little film. You can check out my more in-depth review here!

Enjoy!

This Eagle Doesn’t Fly: FLAP (Warner Brothers 1970)

Posted on July 14, 2016 by gary loggins

cracked rear viewer

FLAP is an attempt by director Sir Carol Reed to jump on the late 60’s/early70’s “relevance” bandwagon by depicting the modern-day mistreatment of the American Indian. It’s a seriocomic character study that struggles to find it’s identity, and as a result fails at both comedy and drama.

FLAP is Flapping Eagle, an ex-soldier living back on the reservation who’s “pissed off at everybody”. He’s a hard drinking man, as is just about all the Indians here, feeding into the stereotypical “drunken Indian” image. Flap’s had enough of the noise coming from construction workers building a highway project right next to the rez, and causes a fracas between the hardhats and the Indians, damaging a bulldozer in the process. Native Wounded Bear (who has a correspondence school law degree) points out the highway is gong through sacred burial ground, which turns out not to be the case. Everyone’s up in arms, especially local…

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