Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Once Upon a Time...

If you're in the mood for 80s Gothic, British horror-fantasy, there's really only one choice.

In 1984, Neil Jordan, best known for The Crying Game and its surprise penis (too soon?), took us to a dark, fairy-tale world with the help of Stephen Rea and Angela Lansbury in The Company of Wolves.





Now we all know how I feel about fairy tales.  I love them and this movie is a favorite. It's based on a series of stories from Angela Carter's The Bloody Chamber which is one of the best short story collections, EVER, because it's entirely made up of grown-up, horrific, fairy tales!  Carter and Jordan collaborated on the script.

Our story takes place in the dreams of a rebellious teenager by the name of Rosaleen.  They involve her living in a forest with her parents and her sister but her sister gets eaten by a wolf which makes the village go all in a tizzy.  During the period of mourning, Rosaleen goes to live with Granny.

Tied with Maggie Smith for "Best Granny EVER".

Granny, of course, tells her stories about a girl raised by wolves, a wedding party cursed by a serving maid done wrong and a man who goes missing, comes back, turns into a wolf when he finds that his wife remarried, gets killed by the new husband.  She knits her a bright red shawl and tells her to avoid Freda Kahlo... excuse me... guys whose eyebrows meet.

It's a PARTY now, bitches!

When she goes back to the village, she has a boy chasing her that she doesn't care for and there's another killing.  This time, when they kill the wolf it turns back into a human being.

Later, Rosaleen brings a basket of goodies to Granny.  We can only assume it contains pot and booze because Granny tells some AWESOME stories.  On the way, though, Rosaleen meets Freda Kahlo... sorry... couldn't be helped... a woodsman whose eyebrows meet.  It's assumed he's handsome but I can't get past the cro-magnon brow ridge.  Seriously, dude... tweezers.  Invest.

Wow... Fabio, you ain't.

In standard Red Riding Hood fashion, he challenges Rosaleen that he can beat her to Granny's house.  He does, natch, and he eats the stringy, old lady.  Rosaleen finds the carnage, shoots Freda and and then feels bad for him after he transforms.  When dad and company arrive, they are surrounded by wolves while Rosaleen and Eyebrow Dude escape into the forest where it is assumed that they will raise puppies.

Remember how I mentioned feminist horror the other day?  This is it... kinda.  Carter's short stories definitely challenged the "damsel in distress" and Jordan and Carter tried to bring that in as much as they could in the script.  Granny wasn't frail by any stretch and Rosaleen was headstrong enough to decide her own life for herself.  On the other hand, though, the werewolf figures are mostly male and their dominance almost, but not quite, pokes gaping holes in that feminist vision.  It's only Rosalee coming out on top that cements the feminist vision.  

The pair DID, however, manage to pull out ALL of the sexual undertones of the Red Riding Hood story and lay out the moral "Don't Stray From The Path" quite nicely.  Even before Ginger Snaps, the werewolf story has been a metaphor for change, particularly puberty, and Carter and Jordan tack allusions to this EVERYWHERE in this movie.  Put that in conjunction with the claustrophobic setting (Yes, the woods are claustrophobic) and you get this trapped feeling that all teenage girls possess.

The only problem that I have with this movie is that it meanders.  It's like a ADHD kid walking through the woods.  There's too much to focus on and it's jarring.  You can't even get up for popcorn or you miss plot points.  All in all, though, I think this is one of the best werewolf movies ever made.  Take Ritalin before watching it, though. 

Monday, April 29, 2013

Annie, Don't Get Your Gun

In 1990, the film adaptation of Stephen King's bestselling novel, Misery, became the first horror film to crack the top 3 Academy Awards when Kathy Bates received the Oscar™ for Best Actress for her role as Annie Wilkes.

And, seriously, bitch deserved it because she STILL scares the shit out of me.




If you watch ONE Stephen King movie and you're not into the supernatural stuff, this is the one to watch.  It's not my number one favorite, but it's right up there.

Paul Sheldon is a successful writer of trashy bodice-rippers involving a Victorian tart by the name of Misery Chastain.  Seriously, she a two-timin' ho but it's all romantic and shit so the public loves her.  He, on the other hand, hates her pox-ridden guts so he goes to write a more serious novel.  He has a ritual for this that involves a particular hotel in Colorado (oddly, not that one), a single cigarette and a glass of champagne and when he's finished, he heads to L.A.

Unfortunately, on this trip, he gets caught in a blizzard and is run off the road.

Fortunately, he is rescued.

Unfortunately, it's by this lady.

Your number one fan has seen you pee.  Eeeeeew.

Annie Wilkes is a former nurse who lives WAAAAAAAAAY out in the boonies.  She tends Paul's wounds, broken legs and dislocated shoulder in her own home.  Far away from prying eyes.  She knows who Paul is.  She's his number one fan.  The only thing she can talk about is Misery and how she can't wait to finish the last book.  She's delighted when Paul says she can read the manuscript he's got in his case.  She's not a fan of the potty mouth.

Oh, look.  NOW she's figured out that Paul killed off Misery in the last book so she tries to drive a table into his head and then reveals that no one knows where he is.

Except Piggie...

So, Annie makes him burn the new manuscript and start writing a new Misery novel, one in which Misery comes back to life.  He starts one but Annie feels cheated so she rattles on for 15 minutes about how the cliffhangers in the movies were never fair because THEY NEVER GOT OUT OF THE COCKADOODIE CAR!!  By now, we definitely know that we have to keep this woman happy.  I'm not sure flowers and candy is gonna do it.

Paul, because he spent a while learning how to increase his rogue stats (+5 Pick Locks FTW), figures out a way to get out of his room and stocks up on his pills and tries to poison Annie.  That doesn't work because she's a clumsy little psychopath.  On another trip out of his room, he finds a scrapbook that tells us that Annie is an "Angel of Mercy" serial killer. 


Tell me a story, Uncle Paul!

She's also a crafty bitch because THAT trip is the one that tells her Paul's been out of his room.  She decides to let him know that she knows with the help of a 2x4 and a sledgehammer.

Twoo Wuv...

In the meantime, the local Sherriff has been looking for Paul, too, and he eventually gets to Annie's place.  Because Annie expects this, she hides Paul in the basement.  The sherriff finds him there and Annie busts a cap in him.  She tells Paul that they have to die together but Paul convinces her that he needs to finish the novel first. He does so and reminds Annie of his ritual.  She is not aware that he sneaked a can of lighter fluid up from the basement.  And, then?  End game.

Not being able to run... that's gotta suck.

Now, normally, I would bitch Rob Reiner up one side and down the other for removing half of a novel and changing one of the pivotal scenes (in the book, Annie uses an axe, not a sledgehammer) but the battle of wits between the helpless man and the crazy woman is intense as FUCK.  Kathy Bates, as I said above, DESERVED her Oscar™.  She gave us a terrifying vision of bipolar disorder topped with a soupçon of schizophrenia, what with her visions of God and such. Her updated and slick interpretation of the "psycho-biddy" sub-genre (which I'll cover Wednesday in TropeFest) has not claws, but barbed tentacles because for a lot of the film, you like her, you really do.

Watching Paul's slow descent into meeting Annie at her level is a fun watch, too.  He has to devolve from sophistication to survivalist in order to escape Annie and her deadly mood swings.  Even though he comes out on top, he doesn't fully succeed and still ends up with a serious case of PTSD.

To me, what makes this movie so chilling is the fact that THIS CAN HAPPEN.  Hell, this HAS happened.  Pick up a newspaper.  Kidnapping and torture, while not an everyday occurrence, is not out of the realm of possibility and that's what this movie does to us.  It takes us, forcibly, into the minds of a serial killer and her reactionary victim and rattles our collective cage.  Parts of us wants to escape but we're riveted to the spot, trapped in that claustrophobic, little room, strapped to that bed, NEEDING to see what happens next.

It's not drawn out, either.  Misery is a roller-coaster and I love every second of it.

I should probably go take my meds, though.

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Stop Letting Rob Drive!

BONUS WEEKEND POST!

Yeah, I know.  Who cares.

Well, I do but I'm just the author.

ANYWAY!  I got a chance to see Lords of Salem this weekend,  I'm going to tell you about it in a haze of cold medication because, seriously, that's probably the best way to watch it.


The movie starts with a man writing about a Salem coven meeting/really creepy orgy and how he's totally gonna kill all the witches because they've got some seriously ugly tits or something.  I'm not quite sure, really, because I was too distracted by the seriously ugly tits that kept appearing on my screen.  Those tits were some TRAIN WRECKS!  Train wrecks made sadder by the fact that they belonged to Meg Foster who is still quite beautiful for her age.  The make-under was kind of astounding in a "GAH, MY EYES" sort of way.

Not quite what we remember from Stepfather II, is she?

Cut to a flesh-colored plank lying on a bed.  Oh, wait.  That's our heroine, Heidi (Sherri Moon-Zombie).  She's a DJ.  She has a big dog and a polite, avuncular landlady.(Judy Geeson).  Heidi has dreadlocks because that makes her cool and she dresses in really big bell-bottoms because she's all mellow like that (and they only look really big because she's a fucking toothpick) and she goes to meetings because she's a meth addict.  This is not shocking.

One night at work, Heidi gets a present.  It's a big wooden box with a record in it.  It comes from "The Lords".  After having her kind of-sort of boyfriend "Whitey" (Jeff Daniel Phillips) walk her home and flirt shamelessly with her, she plays the record and experiences visions of witches performing a ceasarian section.  There may have been chewing on baby parts.  I'm not sure.  It wasn't pleasant.
 
In the meantime, the landlady's sisters (Patricia Quinn and Dee Wallace) are visiting.   They're a little... intense.  And they're nosey as fuck. 

Avon calling!

So, the next night, they play the record on the air and Whitey dubs the "band" the Lords of Salem.  For some dumbass reason, people like it.  It's seriously, like, 7 notes played over and over again.  I want to fast-forward to where the music stopped, personally, but that wasn't really possible.  ANYWAY, the DJs get ANOTHER box and this has a stack of tickets to a Lords concert.  Because this isn't ominous as fuck or anything.

Heidi starts going completely schizo, late for work, using again, having dreams of being raped by a priest.  The apartment down the hall has weird, Tardis-like properties.  There's this midget in a bad foam-rubber suit following her around.  You know.  Shit we see every day.

Awww... it thinks it's people!

So, yeah.  I really can't go any further because I know how you all hate spoilers but, I REEEEEAAAALLLY wish that I could tell you the completely suck-ass ending to this completely suck-ass movie.  About the only thing impressive about this movie is the fact that Zombie found four former scream queens that were willing to star in this barker.  The plot was weak, the acting was weak (yes, even on the parts of the imported scream queens, though they were better than the principles) and it just felt like a 90 minute fugue-state with no direction.  Like the film was laced with pot or something.  This is ON TOP OF medicine head. 

And not even the GOOD kind of fugue-state.  It was bland.  I know he wanted to go for muted but the entire film didn't have to read as beige.  Even the scenes where the colors were "enhanced" a la The Wizard of Oz, weren't enhanced ENOUGH.  If there had been more contrast, the film might have been interesting but, as it stands, bleah.

You mean Rob Zombie DIDN'T cast himself?

I have to tell you that I am NOT, in any way, shape or form, impressed with any of Rob Zombie's films with the exception of House of 1000 Corpses.  I even hated The Devil's Rejects.  It wasn't horror to me, it was a modern-day Roger Corman exploitation film.  Faster Pussycat, Kill, Kill was a better movie.

There is no circumstance upon which I would allow Rob Zombie to write another script and, for serious, if he casts his wife in anything else I'm going to slit my wrists because I can put on a dress and play her part better than she can.  ANY part.  And I have a better butt than hers.  SERIOUSLY, WOMAN!  EAT A FUCKIN' SAMMICH!  
 
Sherri Moon-Zombie is a leading cause of eating disorders. 

Friday, April 26, 2013

My, What a Big Drill You Have...

Ah, 1982.  The golden age of the slasher film.  Following the success of such films as Halloween, Friday the 13th and Prom Night, Roger Corman, feminist writer Rita Mae Brown and director Amy Holden Jones decided, "Hey!  Let's screw with the men and make our OWN slasher flick!"  And, thus, The Slumber Party Massacre worked its way into our cult-movie-loving hearts.






Trish Devereaux (which sounds all decadent and shit) throws a slumber party while her parents are away because 18-year-olds still do that, apparently.  The neighbor is supposed to check in on her because her parents still don't trust her and, seriously, they shouldn't.  Because she's 18 and, as much as we would like to think that 18-year-olds are responsible, they really aren't.  Unless your 18-year-old owns their own home and has already set up a 401k, there's really no reason to ever completely trust your child with your home and belongings because 18-year-olds still have fond physical memories of floods of hormones and basic teenage craziness.  Hell, I'm 40 and I still occasionally have to ask my mom for help.

As it happens, because this is just another day in Horror Town, a serial killer with a fondness for power tools, Russ Thorn, has just escaped from prison.  It's a PARTY, now, bitches.  He introduces himself by killing a telephone repair-woman who apparently can't scream loud enough to be heard through the walls of a van.  I'd have had that checked out well before now. 

 
Project, woman!  Project!


So, yeah, Trish invites her friends Kim, Jackie and Diane to her party.  She also invites the new girl Valerie but Val refuses after she hears Diane talkin' smack.  That's probably a pretty smart move.  She has to babysit next door, anyway.  After school, we get to watch Brinke Stevens be drilled and not in a pervy, porny way.  Did you know that Brinke Stevens was a member of MENSA and has a Masters degree in Marine Biology?  Whodathunkit?  All that to be best known as a scream queen.  Follow your bliss, I guess.

 I am so smart.  S. M. R. T.

ANYway, during the pot smoking and girl-talk, the fun begins.  Diane's boyfriend and a buddy spy on the girls undressing.  The neighbor who's supposed to check in on them gets murdered, Diane and her boyfriend go off to make out and when Diane goes to see if it's OK to leave and get boinked, he's decapitated.  Then Diane finds him and gets a face full of power tool herself.  Then they discover that the pizza guy has had his eyes gouged out and the phone is cut off ("Oh, no!  The line is DEAD!").  Fortunately, the gym coach, whom the girls had been talking to on the phone, gets enough of the message and heads over.

The two remaining boys are gruesomely murdered on Val's lawn which doesn't cause any suspicion at ALL and then Thorn gains access to Trish's place and murders Jackie in the face.  Trish and Kim hide and mistake Val, who has decided to go all "Nancy Drew with a machete" and investigate, for a playmate of the killer.  Kim gets all drillered when Thorn enters the bedroom through an open window.  

Awwww... it's a penis extension.  How cute.

Coach Jana arrives and gets quickly dispatched then Val chases Thorn out with the machete, Thorn appears to get killed then jumps out of the pool and has to get stabbified again.  The girls cry.  The cops arrive.  Aaaaand scene.

SO... what we have to remember about this movie is that it was MEANT to be a parody.  See, Rita Mae and her "unshorn sister of the apocalypse-hood" meant for the movie to lampoon the sexist nature of slasher films as they stand.  Corman and the other producers decided to film this as a straight slasher.  As a result, we get your standard sub-par acting and TnA but we also get a touch more humor than you would normally get in a slasher flick.

And that bugs me.  I'm kind of wondering how this would have turned out if it WAS filmed as the parody it was meant to be.  Personally, I would LOVE to get my hands on the original script and film it myself.  I have a camera.  I'd need to get lighting but your average handycam works just as well as a movie camera, I can do special effects for this myself since there's not a lot in the way of prosthetics, fake blood is cheap to make and I have friends that would LOVE to make a movie.

Seriously, though, I kind of like the IDEA of feminist slashers.  Frankly, I'd kind of like to flip it all the way around and have an all-male cast be hunted down by a female killer.  (Friday the 13th doesn't count.  We didn't KNOW Jason's mom was the killer until the end.)  The end where Val "castrates" the killer by cutting off the drill bit?  A little anvilicious but kind of genius.  It's great that the killer has a face in this one, too.  There's no mystery to it and I think that's cool, occasionally.  

All of that being said, this move sucks out loud but it's that brainless, drinking game kind of suck that makes it fun.  If you're bored, pop this one on and laugh at it.  If you're in the mood, tape all of the comments you make watching this barker and send it to me Riff-Trax style. 

'Cause that would be AWESOME!

Thursday, April 25, 2013

GO TO BED, CAROL-ANNE!!

Poltergeist.

Mother-fucking Poltergeist.

TO THIS DAY, I cannot watch this movie all the way through.  Gonna warn you, now.  This movie is 31 years old.  If you bitch about spoilers, I will make it my mission to slap you.


So, yeah.  The Freeling family lives in Cuesta Verde, a quaint planned community in California.  Their children are perfect and the youngest, Carol Anne, is cute as a button.  Particularly when she holds conversations with the television.  A-fuckin'-dorable.

After this first bout of weirdness, more crazy shit starts happening in the house.  Furniture stacks itself, breaking glass, twisted silverware.  Things that, on the surface, make ya go "Hmm".  And then shit gets truly fucked up.

The tree in the backyard?  Tries to eat the son.  Dad and older sister manage to rescue him but Carol Anne is sucked through a portal in the closet.  She can still talk to them through the TV, though.

Fuck you, Treebeard!  I'll send you the therapist's bill.

And then the parapsychologists come in.  They inform us and the Freelings of the MULTIPLE hauntings they're experiencing and Dad's boss lets slip that the community is built on top of a cemetary.

Ass.

The two remaining kids are sent away for their safety and Tangina, the magic munchkin, is brought in to help them retrieve Carol Anne from not only the spirits who are attracted to her life force but a demon who's out to manipulate the other spirits by way of the little girl.  We never SEE any of this but it's all ominous and shit.

Gee, your hair smells terrific!

In the process of rescue, Mom and Carol Anne get to experience birth again and Tangina lies to their faces.  The Demon fucks with them again after the team leaves and they find out that they moved the HEADSTONES from the cemetery but not the BODIES.  On that note, they flee the premises (like any sane person would) and the house implodes into another dimension.  Then they decide that television is for losers and shun it.  SHUUUUUN!


Like I said before, this movie flips me right the fuck out.  The tree scene?  I have to leave the room.  That fuckin' creepy-ass clown doll?  Oh, FUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOOOOUUU!  I'm not afraid of clowns OR dolls in particular but that sonofabitch can die in a goddamn fire.

Dickhole.

The other scene that really got to me?  The steak in the kitchen.  First off, maggots are fuckin' NASTY and then the skin-peeling that follows?  "Chunky" does not begin to describe it.

The fact that I am STILL legitimately disturbed by these images is a testimony to Spielberg's and Hooper's collective craft.  Keep in mind that Spielberg, contractually, could not work on any other project than E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial while that project was in production which is why Hooper was brought in.  The collaboration between the two of them brought us a truly iconic "haunting" film that has often been imitated but has NEVER been duplicated.

Its examination of 80s consumerism is highly underrated as well and Poltergeist is a lot less conspicuous about it than other films.  The "build it faster and cut corners to get the cash faster" mentality caused a lot of people to question planned communities and middle-class values.

Hello.  Have you accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior?

The air of mystery surrounding the entire series due to a so-called "curse" also adds a little edge to this movie.  I don't believe in curses but the odd coincidences are still something to talk about.

In any case, I have always recommended this movie and I always will.  This is even a great "family" horror film if you have older kids.  It's a bit intense for the younger ones but older kids will get a thrill.

I hear-tell that there's a remake in the works.  I'm not sure how that's gonna go over.

P.S.  Like the new site?  All of the artwork was done by my husband, Scott!  You can see more of his work at http://verdantartist.com

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

You Know, SOME People Prefer a Rabbit's Foot

There are some folks who'll tell you that horror is only a half-step above porn in the ranking of genres.  The only difference between the two, really is which bodily fluid is splattered all over the screen (and, hopefully, not your keyboard because replacing them can be expensive).

That line, however, can very definitely be blurred and, in a few choice cases, crossed completely.  Why?  Perhaps it's the metaphysical dichotomy of sex and death?  Perhaps it's to try and encapsulate the fear of the problems that sex inevitably causes?  Perhaps it's because horror directors tend toward the emotionally stunted perv side of the scale?  A-One, A-Two, A-Three-hee?  The world may never know.

This brings us to Lucky Bastard.



Yes, kids, we now have found-footage, porn, house invasion horror.  The order of that is important.

The film starts out with a police video of "the crime scene", as these things often do.  It starts with a rape which our heroine foils and it all turns out to be a porn shoot.  The director convinced our heroine to take part in their "Lucky Bastard" site which rewards a fan with a boning. 

Yeah!  YEAH!  Take me you basement-dwelling stud, you!

Suffice it to say that she's not having a minute of it.  She plays along as much as she can but the dude they picked?  The one in a million stalker with a hair trigger.  No, I mean with an actual gun.  And a bat.  And any odd sex toys lying around.  Yeah, dude goes all Alex Forrest on his porn star crush.  There's no bunny to be boiled but ass-raping a porn director is close enough.

There's a tiny part of me that's screaming "HELP ME" right now.

This girl.  Tries to be useful.  Fails.


I kind of wish I could say that I hate this movie.  Rape is bad, dont'cha know?  Thing is I DON'T hate this movie.  I don't LIKE it because it really does send mixed messages about the porn industry (which, I believe, is not a bad thing as long as the people involved know what they're doing and they CHOOSE to be a part of it).  I don't LIKE it because the production quality is not great and I don't LIKE it because it's just not a good movie.

You would THINK that if they're making a horror movie about porn, they would make it exciting.  Nooooope.  The villain is a skinny, nerdy type that really couldn't me any more menacing than a Blue's Clues sippy-cup.  And the rest of them?  Assholes, the lot of them.  I seriously could NOT give two shits about them.  Any of them.  Including the heroine.

This is my angry face.  LOVE MEEEEE!

I'm not saying NOT to watch this movie but I'm not recommending it, either.  I'm fairly certain you'll feel as blasé about it as I do.  There's really not a lot to it and, frankly, you have better things to do with your eyes.  Appreciating a painting... as it dries.  Discovering if bears really DO shit in the woods.  Experiencing the power of pepper spray.  Stabbing them with blunt sticks.  You know.  Fun shit. 

I was gonna say "Deuces, I'm out" here, but then I remembered that the phrase "Deuces" probably came from some Jersey Shore meathead who mispronounced "Douches".

I'm out, though.

Monday, April 22, 2013

I'm BAAAAAAAACK!!

After a few days of COMPLETE mayhem, I have returned, triumphant and ready to snark your brain meats into submission!

Today's Choice?  Fresh Meat.





This New Zealand comedy/horror gem is AMAZEBALLS and it just proves to me that films from that region are just getting better and better

I mean, it's your standard "house invasion" movie only totally not.

See, it goes like this.  Rina Crane, college student of Maori descent and lesbian (it's relevant, trust me), goes home for a holiday and her parents, Hemi (Temuera Morrison from Star Wars and Spartacus: Gods of the Arena) and Margaret, an anthropologist and his celebrity chef wife, come out of the closet as cannibals.  It's a religious cult thing.  And then, a local gang bust one of their own out of a prison transport and choose the Crane house as their hideout.  Hilarity ensues. There's guns and chunks and people beating beaten with severed arms and crazy fathers and just... wow...


Ooooh... I'm all menacing in my pink hot pants...


Just in case you weren't aware, the Maori word for meat is "kiko".  And there's your education for the day.


The marinade is simply WONDERFUL!


It's really fucking simple but given the GLEEFUL amount of excess in this film, I'm fully prepared to accept simplicity.  There's so much raunch and humor and giddy scenery chewing that any kind of "eew" factor is thoroughly mitigated.  It's DELIRIOUSLY campy.  John Waters (Happy Birthday, by the way, Mr. Waters) would be proud.

I know this is a short review but the movie just speaks for itself.  I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Yes, I'm still here!

I will totally make this up to you, I swear.

This show is just REALLY important to me.

It's for the CHILDREN!


Wednesday, April 17, 2013

White Noise

Sorry, kids.  I know today's Wednesday but I can't get you a post this morning.  I can probably get you one this evening but don't count on it.  Bearvillities eats up my life for the next few days.

To explain, Bearvillities is a once a year, one-show-only event to support Camp Sunrise, a summer camp for children affected by or afflicted with HIV.  They work to give these kids a chance to just feel like kids for a week out of the year along with other events like a Prom to give them some normalcy.  It's held at Wall St. Nightclub in Columbus, OH and it's this Saturday, April 20th.  Doors open at 7:3o PM.

If you would like to donate to Camp Sunrise but cannot make it to the show, please let me know.  Every little bit helps.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Spring Break

No, I'm not taking a break.  Even though I'm performing in a charity show in four days and I'm really nervous and I'm 'bout ready to die.

I'm actually talking about Spring Break.  That time of year that lets wild, drunken college kids loose on an unsuspecting society.  The baseline level of debauchery that enables slasher films.  Boobs and booze fuckin' EVERYWHERE!!  The days of illegal narcotics and tourism.

And so begins my review of Alexandre Aja's 2010 B-Movie awesomeness, Piranha 3D.





In a shout-out to Jaws, Oscar™ Winner Richard Dreyfus gives us a cameo as Matt Hooper who is now a belligerent drunk, fishing, humming "Show Me The Way To Go Home" and drinking beer when an earthquake hits Lake Havasu, releasing a school of prehistoric piranha and a huge whirlpool which, for some dumb-ass reason, refuses to actually lower the water level of the lake when it empties into the new set of caverns.  And why the fuck is it called a "school" of piranha?  Because they're fish?  Isn't that all kinds of fish-racist?  Do all kinds of fish look alike to you, Aja?  Is that what you're trying to say?  Henceforth, a school of Piranha shall be known as a "Nibble".  Take that, you racist bastard!

I cutchoo, mang!

So, anyway, as I said, it's Spring Break and the grandson of Steve McQueen is all, "I wanna play, too, but my mom (Oscar™ Winner Elizabeth Shue) is the sheriff and she won't stop invading my privacy while I surf internet porn and thinks that I live to be her babysitter."  He manages to get a gig showing an imported porn king the "sweet spots" of the lake in which to shoot porn.  Underwater porn.  Naked 3D water ballet.  Woo.

So, anyway, people start going missing, the sheriff is called in to investigate, her kid pays her other two kids to cover for him while he enables underwater porn.  The two remaining children go fishing and get caught out on the lake.  Porn boat hits a rock.  Fish mangle tourists.  Eli Roth is one of them.  That gives me a happy.

Ving Rhames with an outboard mower.  You're welcome.

Poster boy for idiotic teenager manages to lure all of the fish to the sinking porn boat.  Coked-out porn dude gets eaten.  We get treated to severed penis.  Because everyone needs severed penis.  Idiot teen's wannabe girlfriend is trapped inside.  He rescues her and manages to rig an explosion.  Piranhas are dead, HOORAY!!

Yep.  Safety harness.  Because that's gonna be on every boat, ever.

Yeeeeah.

This movie?  You would think that I hate it but I totally don't.  This is yet another movie specifically made to be a horror comedy and I LIVE for it!  Remember that the original was meant to be a Jaws spoof, too.

It tosses us pretty much ALL of the "terror on the ocean" tropes and confines them to a lake.  It gives us a mad scientist, and "Oh, no, there are THOUSANDS of them and they're unstoppable!"  It gives us Michael Bay levels of mayhem!  It gives us Elizabeth Shue trying to pay the mortgage!  There's carnage and mayhem and it's pretty much a consistent roller-coaster ride the whole way through.  EXPLOSIONS!!  Aja totally knows how to deliver both the gore AND the shock.

And, for serious, Aja let his inner pervert out to play, too.  This is not only a fantastic, shut-your-brain-off horror flick, he also brought in the throngs of horny teenagers with the lure of boobs which, while it's not exactly NEW, is marketing gold.  Half of the movie is a horrific love letter to "Girls Gone Wild".  'Cause I haven't seen THIS many titties in a horror movie in a LONG time.  Not that I really have a problem with it.  I'm a gay dude but a pretty boob is a pretty boob and I can appreciate them.  

I probably could have done without the underwater ballet but whattayagonnado?

Finally, I DID pay the $13 bucks to see this in the theater.  The 3D for this felt right.  It wasn't tacked on and the creature effects were kind of amazing.  I'm not quite sure how those fish would actually swim but they worked for me.  They had an almost intelligent malevolence to them.  I like them. 

This is silliness-on-a-stick and I adore it.  You don't gotta.

Monday, April 15, 2013

What Part of "No" Do You Not Understand?

In 1989, Stephen King and director Mary Lambert brought us yet another tale of family terror.  One that still resonates today because undead children are just fuckin' creepy.





Pet Sematery is a tale of adult fears.  It examines those things we, as adults, face every day.

It starts with the Creed family (Louis, Rachel, Ellie, Gage and their cat Churchill) moving into their new home in Ludlow, Maine.  They befriend their new neighbor, Jud Crandell, right away and settle in.  Much beer is consumed by the new buddies and Ellie and Gage basically gain a new set of grandparents.  Because children need as many people around to manipulate with cuteness as they can get and old people are gullible.

Louis is a doctor and he has a new job at the University.  A young man is brought in with severe injuries and, because he's apparently a dick, provides the doc with a prophetic warning to stay away from the pet cemetary.  And then he shows up in a dream to warn him again and Louis wakes up with dirty feet.  I'm sure that pisses him off because who wants that on their sheets?  Stupid sleepwalking.  Not being concerned about hygiene and shit.

Then their asshole of a new neighbor takes them to the homemade pet cemetary in the woods.  Kids have been burying their dead pets there for DECADES, it appears and Jud warns them not to try and climb the pile of dead trees in the corner.  You would think that Louis would pay attention but noooooooo.

It doesn't LOOK haunted...

Not only do we have to deal with Louis' weird dreams but Rachel is terrified of death.  Like, serious, irrational, whoa-hold-up-bitchfest, do not expose my daughter to death, phobia.  It's understandable since she watched her sister Zelda die of Spinal Meningitis while her parents were away.  And Zelda is quite possibly the scariest character ever portrayed on film.  She freaks my shit right the fuck out.

Anyway, did I forget to mention that they live on a not-well-lit two-lane highway that's notorious for killing pets because tanker trucks use it constantly?  It claims the life of poor Churchill.

This is where Jud tells Louis about the Micmac burial ground past the deadfall at the pet cemetary.  They bury Church there and he comes back.  He comes back wrong.  He comes back evil.  He comes back stinky.

TAKE A BATH!!

So, other than stinky cat, things go great until Gage is also killed by an oncoming truck.  Rachel's father blames Louis.  There's a fist-fight at the funeral.  Rachel goes nuts and takes Ellie to Chicago where Ellie starts having disturbing dreams of the student that died on Louis' watch.  Louis exhumes Gage and buries him in the Micmac burial ground.  

And now he wants to play with yoooooooouuuuuu.

Scalpels are TOTALLY child-safe.

Seriously, when it comes to Stephen King adaptations, this is one of the best, even though the novel isn't one of his better ones.  Mary Lambert managed to cram a whole lot of novel into the movie which was totally appreciated. 

But the reason this is such a good movie is because of the adult fears I mentioned above.  Kids are afraid of losing pets and adults are afraid of losing children and spouses.  They say that to be a parent is to live every day in fear.  Frankly, I have enough fear in my life so I don't really WANT to be a parent but I can imagine what losing a child must feel like.  The imagery of Gage's poor little foot in his baby sneaker bouncing along the road was chilling.

Worse than fingernail torture.

Losing a spouse is just as painful and Rachel's return was horrific.  We KNEW that he was cheating death and was going to pay the price.

And turning a sweet innocent child into a demonic villain is another fear that many parents must face.  Because puberty is a bitch and parents often have to deal with mental illness and obstinate children all the time.  Granted, Gage doesn't fit the puberty/mental illness profile but, as above, Louis was cheating death and he really should have known better after that damn cat.  He REALLY should have expected some kind of Night of the Living Dead bullshit.

It also has the distinction of having a female director.  Mary Lambert isn't the first female horror director but she's certainly the best and she made a fantastic choice in making this her second film.  I'm kind of sad that her career has been relegated to Urban Legend sequels and Syfy Original films.

All in all, this isn't a great movie but it IS quietly awesome in it's own way.  With its Lovecraftian themes (which are common in King's work), it's complete avoidance of the infant immortality rules and its understated examination of death and how we, as people, handle it, it's certainly a welcome addition to any horror fans library.



Friday, April 12, 2013

So... How's Priesthood Workin' For Ya?

While we're on the subject of both classic horror and religious horror, I would be UTTERLY remiss if I neglected to mention William Friedkin's 1973 horror Magnum Opus, The Exorcist.





This movie had me OBSESSED as a kid.  I always wanted to watch it and this was the one that my horror-hound mother would never let me watch and I never understood why.

After finally seeing it in my late teens, I understood why, but I'll get into that later.

Once again, this is a classic so I'm not particularly worried about giving away spoilers but consider yourself warned, anyway.  The movie IS almost 40 years old, after all. 

So, anyway, it starts with Max von Sydow (Father Merrin) hanging out at an archaeological dig in Iraq and discovering that a demon he'd already fought, Pazuzu, is out for revenge.  Then we peek in on a younger priest (Father Karras) who is going through a crisis of faith following the death of his mother.  And finally, we get into the action with Chris MacNeil and her daughter, Regan.  Regan's been going through some... changes... since she decided to fuck around with a ouija board.  (Because ouija boards are the cause of every spiritual problem EVER.)  Changes like soiling herself at grown-up parties, developing a mouth on her like a fucking longshoreman, some SERIOUS acne and Carrie-like tendencies to toss her bed around the room.  She's also developed a new imaginary friend by the name of Captain Howdy.

Somebody needs some fuckin' Pro-Activ.

Of course, Mom puts Regan through a shit-ton of medical tests and they find nothing that can be cured but they DO find out that she can speak backwards in Ancient Sumerian and walk backwards down the stairs on all fours.  Puberty just keeps getting better and better. It also appears that no one taught her how to masturbate because she and a crucifix are totally doing it wrong.

 
Those Gymboree classes TOTALLY paid off.



And then the whole thing blows up when Regan is under suspicion of killing Mom's boy-toy.  She totally did it but the cops aren't convinced so they're "investigating". 

So, on the doctor's advice (wait.. really?), mom hunts down Father Karras who initially refuses to take the case but changes his mind after he sees "HELP ME" carved into Regan's skin.  He gets help from Merrin and they go to town, dealing with pea-soup vomit and the physical impossibility of a head turning 360 degrees.

 
OK, so maybe Gymboree worked TOO well...



They actually fail on the first go-'round.  Merrin kicks Karras out but when Karras checks in on Merrin, he finds him dead, so he has to complete the exorcism himself.  He basically dares the demon to take him and leave Regan alone, so it does and he kills himself by jumping out the window.

WOO!  The day is saved and Regan doesn't remember a second of it... or so she says.

 
Curses!  Foiled again!


Now, let's talk about why my mom didn't want me to see it when I was young.  It wasn't the violence or gore.  It wasn't the creepy masturbation scene (which was cut out for a long time and only re-added recently).  It wasn't the language Pazuzu uses.  It was this:
 
I wouldn't understand it.  There is entirely too much about the movie that is SO wrapped up in Christianity that, unless you have spent your entire life, from birth, in a monastery, a small child just cannot comprehend it.  Hell, I had to do some research after the fact to figure out a lot of what happened in the film.  Then again, I'm a dork that way.  This is obviously the premiere "exorcism" film and it's certainly what a lot of folks base their vision of an exorcism on and it was very deeply researched by William Peter Blatty before he wrote it.
 
DAMMIT!  STOP FLOATING!  BAD REGAN!  BAD!
 
The Exorcist is one of those "based on true life" movies that has only a very tenuous connection to actual events, but I'm OK with that.  I don't believe in demonic possession due to my being an atheist but it certainly raised questions like any good movie should.  It's because of the imagery included, the rumor of subliminal imagery, the rumor of a movie "curse" and the utter divisiveness in theological doctrine vs secular humanism that this movie is an indispensable part of any horror fan's collection.

Frankly, this movie takes a long time to get where it's going but once it gets there it doesn't stop.  It's not as slow a burn as Rosemary's Baby but be prepared for a numb butt. 

Totally funny story, though... I went to see this in the theater when the uncut version was released.  I was in my thirties.  A young couple in front of me apparently thought this was an appropriate movie for an 8-year-old.  I thought it was hilarious when they up and left during the crucifix-twat-stabbing scene.  Apparently, they didn't think this life choice through.

Idiots.
 
GET A SITTER!

I swear, some folks need to pass a test before becoming parents.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Don't Expect Any Child Support, Lady

Since this appears to be a week of classics, I thought I'd cover something a little more cerebral.  There's no gore, no on-screen kills, nothing that would satisfy your average gorehound AND it's an INCREDIBLY slow burn so I'm not even sure it would hold the attention of today's young audience.  And it's a personal favorite.





In 1968, Roman Polanski (pre-statutory rape) directed the sublime and waif-like Mia Farrow (pre-Woody Allen and HIS freaky Asian adopted daughter shit) and John Cassavetes in Rosemary's Baby.  An adaptation of Ira Levin's bestselling novel of the Anti-Christ. 

It starts with sweet, naive housewife Rosemary and her husband moving into the Bramford, an old but charming apartment building in New York (actually, the Dakota, which is infamous for being the location of John Lennon's murder).  Of course, the first people they meet are the Castevets (Ruth Gordon and Sydney Blackmer) who are nosey as fuck but seem nice.

She's watching you.
Always watching.

Rosemary makes another friend with a necklace that smells funny but she decides to take a nosedive off of the building which is all sad and shit.

So, then, the creepy, old people invite the couple to dinner.  Over Dessert, Rosemary passes out and then she has awful, awful sex dreams and wakes up naked and covered in scratches.  Her husband tells her "Oh, it's OK, honey.  I just raped you while you were unconscious because I REEEEEALLY want a baby." (I'm paraphrasing.)

Turns out it worked and her due date is June 6th, 1966.  Coinkeedink?  Not a fuckin' chance.
Call the police, bitch.  Yo' man done you wrong.

She chooses an obstetrician on a friend's recommendation but the creepy, old neighbors insist that she see THEIR guy, even though it's patently obvious that Minnie hasn't had the cobwebs swept from her cooch in a few decades.  And she listens to them.  Because she wants to be an all-natural hippie.  This drink the doc makes her take is better than vitamins, or so they say.  Tannis root...  That doesn't sound suspicious.  And for the first 3 months of pregnancy she drops a shitload of weight and craves raw meat.  Raw.  Meat.  I'd be getting a second opinion.  And she does.  Because she's naive but she's not stupid.  Well, mostly not stupid.

The second opinion doc decides to investigate and is about to release his findings to Rosemary when he slips into a coma.  Just before he dies, though, he gives a book to his secretary to give to Rosemary.

It's all about this guy.  YAY!

So, blah, blah, blah, things happen, Rosemary gets suspicious of her neighbors and her husband (something she probably should have done a while ago), she tries to fight back but they manage to get to her and deliver the baby on time.  They tell her it died but she can hear it crying.  She goes in all ready to find creepy people ready to kill her kid but then she looks at the kid and "His eyes... WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIS EYES!?!"

Step away from my kid, bitches.

Like I said, this is an INTENSELY slow burn and that was kind of expected for any psychological thriller in the 60s.  Polanski was known for it, in particular.  This movie couldn't be made today and that's kind of awesome.

Oh, they've TRIED to do it.  The lackluster Blessed comes to mind immediately and it was OK but not great.  THIS is pretty much the penultimate "I Had Satan's Baby" movie.  The Omen was more about the kid after it was born.  This was about the hell the mother was put through.

Obviously, this movie shines a laser pointer on the general fears that women face during pregnancy.  "What if I'm doing something wrong?"  "What if I screw this child up for life?"  "Why am I bringing a child into an overpopulated world?"  "How do I get my hair to look that cute?"  "What if I'm giving birth to the next Hitler?"  And considering that this came out shortly after the Thalidomide deal, "What if I'm having a flipper baby?"  All valid questions and the reason why I suggest every pregnant lady, ever, watch this flick.  Not to make them question themselves but to realize that those fears are valid but not really to be dwelled upon, plus, there's always somebody that has it worse than you.

Because this is a classic, I LOVE watching it but because it's so slow-paced, I really have to be in the mood for it.  It's a long one, too, at 2 Hours 17 minutes.  I say make the popcorn in bucketfuls and settle in.  This is a bumpy ride.