Matty pinpoints the good and bad in Ted Nicolaou’s so-so kids’ flick.

REMOTE represents something of a change for Ted Nicolaou. At the risk of reducing the multi-disciplined (he edits, he writes, he directs) filmmaker’s directorial output to mere descriptors, prior to taking Remote’s reins, Nicolaou almost exclusively alternated between kooky sci-fi horror (TerrorVision (1986), Bad Channels (1992)) and gothic horror (the first three Subspecies flicks) with only a guest spot shepherding three episodes of short-lived Italian western show, Lucky Luke, to break it up. By Nicolaou’s own admission, he was desperate to branch out. Thus, when friend and frequent producer Charles Band offered him Remote – a family film assembled under the Full Moon boss’ freshly minted, kiddie label, Moonbeam Entertainment – Nicolaou readily accepted. And just like that, Nicolaou became Band’s go-to family film director, quickly following Remote with Leapin’ Leprechauns! (1995), Magic in the Mirror (1996), The Shrunken City (1998), and gorgeous career highpoint, Dragonworld (1994), among others.  

Sadly, this tepid offering sits at the mid to lower end of Nicolaou’s cutesy wares; a run rounded out by sequels Leapin’ Leprechauns 2 (1996), Magic in the Mirror: Fowl Play (1997), and Dragonworld: The Legend Continues (1999). An airily lensed and colourful-looking film, Nicolaou goes for playful compositions and pompy staging but is undercut by the story’s dawdling pace. For much of Remote’s duration it feels as if he’s spinning wheels; a niggle confounded by a slack script and an adult cast who do little but fumble about on screen and shout their dialogue, committing the cardinal sin of conflating comedy with volume. The plot blends Band’s ‘tiny terror’ obsession – here, the murderous puppets are diluted into more moppet conducive radio-controlled gadgets – with Home Alone (1990)-style slapstick, as young pre-teen Randy (Chris Carrara) takes on a trio of bumbling burglars (John Diehl, Tony Longo, and Stuart Fratkin) while trapped inside a showhouse.        

Passable enough – but given how weirdly talk-driven and how surprisingly light on funny or memorable incidents it is, it’s hard to imagine Remote’s target audience being particularly enraptured. Still, there are a few amusing touches for Nicolaou and Band scholars. One could argue that the film’s exaggerated tone is a deliberate throwback to the cartoonish, sitcom-esque hyper-reality of TerrorVision; Carrara scuttling around the wall cavities invokes pleasing memories of Klaus Kinski in Band’s earlier Empire opus, Crawlspace (1986); and the way in which Diehl et al spend an inordinate amount of time hanging out prefigures the ‘amblin’ crooks’ scenario of Puppet Master 5: The Final Chapter (1994). Elsewhere, those as obsessed with world building as Band is will be thrilled to know that Longo and Fratkin’s characters previously appeared in the mogul’s inaugural Moonbeam joint, the vastly superior dinky dino epic Prehysteria! (1993).   

Released on video on either side of the Atlantic by Paramount, who Band was then in bed with. Remote hit the U.S. on 22nd September 1993, four months after Bloodstone: Subspecies II (1993) and five months ahead of Bloodlust: Subspecies III (1994).  

USA ● 1993 ● Family, Comedy ● 80mins

Chris Carrara, Jessica Bowman, John Diehl ● Dir. Ted Nicolaou ● Wri. Tommy Sledge (as ‘Mike Farrow’)