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| Oakland Tribune - May 27, 1971 |
What my first exposure to the work of Michael Crichton was is buried deep beneath the smothering Sands of Time. But I do remember watching this film adaptation when it made its network television debut. Being an enthusiastic fan of morbid fare, I loved the film's unsettling opening sequence. Yet everything after that seemed a tad sterile and, well, lifeless.
The end result was a film that kept my attention, but not my interest. I kept holding out hope that there would be a tad more devastation. Something that would make the threat a bit more palpable. Something more akin to The Color Out Of Space, I think. But that did not happen. So it goes.
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