Word: goodnesses
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Meyer's Jack the Ripper is the alter-ego of Stevenson, a gentleman and a good friend of the young H. G. Wells. Stevenson listens skeptically as the inventor displays a time machine he's just built to carry him into the perfect world of the future, but when the police burst in, he steals the machine to escape. Convinced that he's "turned that bloody maniac loose on Utopia!," Wells follows the Ripper to 1979 San Francisco, the time machine having automatically returned to its owner...
...contrast between the on-location San Francisco exteriors, where the rest of the film unfolds, and the period sets for the Victorian England scenes, captures nicely the disparate tone of the two eras: the sheltered, made-to-order past versus the open, anything-goes present. Meyer makes good use of the city, staging a riveting chase over San Francisco's split-level belvederes and sky-ways. Not that Wells spends all his time chasing Stevenson. Romance blooms in the person of Amy, an aggressive bank-executive who takes him to lunch, to the movies, and to her apartment, where Wells...
...over-emphasized clues aside, the movie is a fine, taut thriller. Meyer even finds a good excuse for the mayhem of the obligatory car chase scene--the fact that Wells, in pursuit of Stevenson, must manuever San Francisco's considerable hill without knowing how to drive. In blessed contrast to The Crucifer of Blood, another recent Jack the Ripper film, Meyer keeps the gore to a minimum. In one murder, we see only the flush of his knife, followed by a tear of blood on his face--a masterful bit of understatement...
Then you ask help in making your predictions come true. What is such a big deal about predictions coming true? Maybe you will remember, Cassandra's predictions all came true. A lot of good that...
...bringing down fences, their plans and tactics and shouts of "honk if you hate nukes"--the owners wish they would just go home. Or, failing that, they wish no one showed up to cover them. But nearly 500 reporters did, and the state's press center soon proved good for little more than the coffee and doughnuts that, you were often reminded, the bored National Guardsmen who manned the place had chipped in for because the state was too cheap. Except for the intense competition, for the three phones the state supplied ("remember to make the call collect") reporters stay...