A debate has been raging on the Internet over the past two weeks, a war of words between a certain select group of critics and their equally astute peers. It all centers around a recent poll by Indiewire (as part of their Criticwire brand) dealing with, and we quote, “Overrated Masterpieces.” Now, if that tag isn’t confusing enough (if something is considered a “masterpiece,” can it really be “overrated?”), many of the answers were. As pointed out by Calum Marsh in his Film.com response “The Movie Isn’t ‘Overrated,’ You’re Just Lazy” several of the opinions offered were nothing more than dismissals and assertions. While the framework of the piece may have allowed for such shortcuts, Marsh argues that many of the conclusions can be summed up in the following way: I’m right, everyone else is wrong.

They say that violence solves nothing. They also argue that might makes right. Apparently, the notions of conflict and its brutal byplay are at odds with each other - just like those both for and against such sentiments. Indeed, when it comes to the movies, ending things in a hail of gunfire has been a creative go to move. From the moment we saw The Great Train Robbery and its weapon aimed directly at the audience to today’s reliance of shaky cam chaos to create a sense of “being there,” bullets and the devices which deliver them have become the exclamation point on any action effort. Indeed, the genre seems to be built on the notion of bigger and badder, from the accent on increased bloodshed to the attempt to turn such aggression into a thing of (questionable) beauty.

It must have seemed like the most brainless of no-brainer ideas. Stephenie Meyer, who turned a tale of adolescent angst and supernatural romance into the billion dollar franchise known as Twilight, had just seen her books made into a bevy of critically lambasted, but financially successful, films. Hollywood, ever vigilant to strike the cash cow irons while they are good and enflamed, swept in and took the author’s most recent title, a specious sci-fi work known as The Host, and rushed it into production. Without any established track record except for all the leftover Edward and Bella brouhaha, Tinseltown smelled a bit fat hit.

This collection, freshly on demand from Warner Archives, corrals the last of RKO’s Falcon series, starring Tom Conway as the suave meddler in murder. A funny thing happens on the way from the first three films here to the last three. WWII ended, and crime films evolved from slick jokey larks to the darker, more somber tone of noir. You can see it happening.

The Falcon Out West sends our hero to a ranch for a story whose most interesting element is Barbara Hale, years before her career as Perry Mason’s secretary on TV, as a self-reliant cowgirl who rides a fine horse. William Clemens here finishes his run directing the series; this sturdy toiler in B mysteries had a hand in films of Perry Mason, Nancy Drew, and Philo Vance, among others.

Redemption has released two early ‘80s zombie films that can easily be confused by the non-connosseur. Both are Eurociné productions scripted by Jesus Franco and sharing much the same crew: photographer, composer, editor, etc. Oh yes, and both are about Nazi zombies. However, they are differentiated by the styles and obsessions of their directors, Franco (on Oasis of the Zombies) and Jean Rollin (on Zombie Lake). Again, the casual eye may think both directors are similarly languid, but their signatures are apparent even though they used pseudonyms. That implies they regarded these products as inessential in their filmographies, and we’d agree.

Rollin’s film, although less interesting than his other zombie movies (e.g. The Living Dead Girl, The Grapes of Death), manages to be another of his elegiac sonnets about yearning for death and the love that transcends it (or delivers it). The setting is a French village haunted by an incident that occurred in WWII, which the mayor (Howard Vernon) says was ten years ago. That means the film is set in the 1950s; some details don’t really support that, but never mind. The French Resistance killed some German soldiers and tossed them in the lake, which has its own evil history, and now the decaying, green, flesh-gobbling zombies emerge whenever damsels go skinny-dipping, which is all the time.