Synth-Pop, Stryper and Slugs

At a friend's request, I just watched Night of the Creeps again.  I TOLD myself I wasn't gonna do it but I suppose I have to be fair about these things.  And now, there are 90 minutes of my life that I'll never have back.

Not that I'd want them because I'd probably be a dumbass and watch this hilarious piece of trash again.

Fuck you, Jeremy.

It starts high above the planet in a spaceship with very low ceilings and naked alien toddlers trying to keep their balance and not fall on their collective butts in a cute yet menacing manner (that would probably end up on YouTube and get a million hits while this site gets bupkis... nobody respects intelligent humor, anymore) while also attempting to stop one of their crew from releasing an experiment.  Obviously they fail and we never hear from them again

MUPPET BABIES!!!

On Earth (circa 1956), a skanky ho broke up with her cop boyfriend and is now dating a bad-ish boy with a convertible.  He takes her to "the point" where they stare at the stars and bad-ish boy tries to keep his erection hidden but they get told to hit the bricks, scram, vamoose by ex-boyfriend cop.  She has all the feels for a minute and goes to wish on her star when her star turns out to be unknown space junk... see where this is going, yet?

New boy wants to investigate.  Leaves skanky-ho alone while he goes to find the space junk.  The space junk, a la The Blob or The Stuff turns out to contain brain-eating slugs from outer space.  Which is the name of my new fragrance.  Brain-Eating Slugs from Outer Space... it's cosmically hypnotizing.  Only not.  I have allergies.

ANYWAY...  skanky-ho, in the meantime, is listening to the radio and, in true slasher fashion, gets hacked at by an escaped lunatic.  

Fast forward 30 years to two guys at college looking to get laid.  Well, one is, J. C., but he's Gimpy McGee and he's just grateful he gets to leer.  The other kid, Chris, is all nervous and there's this one sorority girl he's kinda gaga over but she's got a boyfriend.  Chris says, "Hey!  If I join a fraternity, she'll bone me!"  In order to JOIN the frat, though, they have to steal a corpse and leave it on the lawn of another fraternity.

Say whuuuuuuuu...?

So, yeah, in the midst of all this hot B&E action, they find a corpsicle (and, yes, they actually use that word) that's all handy and available and they set it free from the confines of it's cryogenic prison.  It twitches wrong and they run from the premises, "scleaming rike banshees".  Yes, that's actually a line, too.

Cynthia, otherwise known as Cindy-Lou Who, who apparently has some assertiveness but not a lot of it, is getting ready for bed and flashes us a pair of A-cups ( not that I care but I know guys that do) before opening the window to see our flash-frozen friend at the window spitting slugs.  This leads us to think things through the movie that just aren't true.  Things like "My she's quiet.  I bet she's got a head full of brain slugs."  LIES, I tell you.  She makes friends with Chris and J.C. after that.

So, yeah.  Explode-y-head corpse gets found and J. C. and Chris are brought in for questioning.  Oh, did I mention that the detective working on the case is Ex-boyfriend Cop?  Yeah, he's taken a few loops around the bend and he reads entirely too much Dashiell Hammett.  Nobody cares about film noir, anymore, you hack!  Anyhoo.  He's following the boys and Cindy-Lou Who when J. C. leaves to give the burgeoning lovebirds some time alone and gets attacked by slugs in the bathroom.  Because that's the BEST place to attack a kid with crutches and an unfortunate addiction to 40s style dialogue.  

 Excuse me, you're interrupting my graffiti time.

So, after Chris drops off Cindy-Lou, the cop corners Chris and brings him back to... his house?  Turns out he killed the loony that chopped up his ex and buried him under the sorority's house mother's house.  He tells this to Chris as if there's a statute of limitations for murder even for a cop.  I'm kinda hoping that Chris charged him some blackmail but Chris is stupid so probably not.  While Cop is spilling his guts he gets a call that the den mother's been killed.  He grabs his trusty 12-gauge and sends Chris on his way to... get... a tux for the formal tomorrow?

So... the cops find the walking loony corpse and said looney gets a head full of slugs and tears apart the old broad.  The cops chase him down and discover the brain slugs with a head shot.

Yeah, that's a face that begs for a kickin'.

Chris finds a tape with J. C.'s last message on it that tells him about the brainslugs and how to destroy them.  Chris, who wisely does this BEFORE his date but unwisely AFTER he puts on his tuxedo with, if you can believe it, a skinny BOW-TIE (yeah, I know... idiot yuppies and their obsession with all things thin), takes a trip to the basement where he finds his friend and a handful of melting brain slugs.  Then he goes to Cop and tells him all about it and they "requisition" a flame thrower and storm the gates of the sorority house where the brain-slugs are nesting.

The sorority house is currently teeming with frat zombies... actual zombies, not how they normally are.  It takes destroying Cindy-Lou's smart-ass exwith a bullet to the brainpan and a dousing with a flame thrower for her to realize she's been holding hands with the infected and trying to convince the corpse she needs to move on.  Somehow, she ends up with the flamethrower and she does a darn good job with it.  Blah, blah, action sequence, an interesting use of proto-bullet-time and...

Ka-boom

That's right.  We bad.

OK, so it sounds like this is the worst movie in the world but it's not.  As a DELIBERATE attempt at a B-movie, particularly one that lampoons zombie, alien invasion AND slasher films, it does a good job.  It's a hell of a lot better than Scary Movie, I'll tell you that much.  This is Slither only not as slick production-wise and without the depth of plot.

It DOES, maybe, take someone who's more versed in the other genres AND a has a but of Film Noir knowledge to get some of the in-jokes in the dialogue but it's still enjoyable even if you just shut off your brain and groan at the creaky, old plot. 

Much like Cabin in the Woods, this is one of those movies where you get to play "Count the Tropes" and I appreciate that.  Plus, having grown up during the 80s, I saw a LOT of those Sugarbaker-Sister taffeta monstrosities they're calling "formal gowns" in this movie and I could practically smell the Aqua-Net in those hairdos.  Those right there are worth the price of admission.

This is perfect if you're bored or if you want to have a B-Movie party.

Trivia note:  The setting and many of the major characters are named after Horror directors.  I'll let you figure them out for yourself.

And, yes, there is ONE reference to Stryper in the movie.  Try and find it.

You Gonna Eat That?

Picture it!  1985! 

Reaganomics and rampant consumerism.  Stocks are high, yuppies are breeding like rabbits and everybody wants the newest, bestest, most shiny toys.  Kids are playing with Super Mario Bros., She-Ra, Teddy Ruxpin and My Buddy dolls.  Michael J. Fox introduced us to the flux capacitor and The Goonies searched for sunken treasure.  That plastic thingie that keeps the pizza box from sticking to the pizza was invented, people were wondering if Maddie and David were going to hook up and Bartles and James are thanking us for our support.

And Larry Cohen brings us The Stuff.

Much like The Blob, The Stuff starts with an idiotic old man finding goo.  Unlike in The Blob, though, the old dude is stupid enough to put something that he found on the ground in his mouth.  Turns out the white paste is tasty so he and his buddy decide to sell it.  I'm not sure how they managed that since they didn't own the land that it was found on, but, hey.  Movie logic.  It soon becomes the newest Fad Food with slick marketing campaigns and jingles and such.  Because this is the 80s.

The fur is supposed to convey pretentiousness.

Enter David "Mo" Rutherford.  An ex-FBI professional industrial saboteur who really doesn't have a lick of sense in his fucking head because he actually TELLS people that's what he does.  He's hired by the failing ice cream industry and a man by the name of Chocolate Chip Charlie to take down The Stuff.  And by "take down", I mean find out what it is and kill it.

In his research, he finds out that The Stuff is actually a living thing.  It is addictive and it takes over your body from the inside, first your brain, then leaving your body an empty shell when it's done much like Jane Fonda and her aerobics.  He interviews Nicole, the woman behind the ads for The Stuff, and they hook up.  I'm still not entirely sure how that happened.  She has no problem dating a man who ruins companies for a living.  I think if you enter the advertising game the first thing they do is surgically remove your soul.


Meanwhile, there's a kid by the name of Jason who ALSO knows what's going on since he saw it moving in the fridge.  His spends the next day or so going insane in supermarkets and getting grounded.

Nowadays, I'm fairly certain that this would count as terrorist activity.

Somehow, Mo manages to know exactly where to find this kid who, like an idiot, gets in the car with the complete stranger simply because he's running from his Stuff-possessed family.

Mo commits yet another felony as he transports a minor across state lines and leaves the kid on the plane while he and Nicole investigate the plant.  They don't get very far and since they're not actually paying attention to the kid, he gets attacked by The Stuff on the plane and ditches, somehow ending up at the plant and hiding inside a tanker truck... in the tank... like a moron.

Mo and Nicole get attacked by The Stuff in the hotel room that the plant manager conveniently put them in for the night.  They briefly mention Jason but they don't bother to... you know... check in on him.  They figure out that it's flammable... by dumping lamp oil on and setting it on fire WHILE IT'S ON MO'S FACE.  These people are so fucking stupid.  Damn.  (Little trivia note for you:  The motel room for this scene is the same room used for the Johnny Depp waterbed scene in A Nightmare on Elm Street.)

That's gonna getcha free nights for YEARS!

So, they escape and decide, hey, let's steal a tanker so we have some of The Stuff for testing.  Just out of pure luck, Mo hears Johnny in the tank as he's being attacked by The Stuff since they're pulling it right out of the ground.  Nicole goes back to the stolen truck they used to GET to the puddle of goo and is attacked.  She gets rescued just in the nick of time.  They get pulled over because I don't know why but we know by now that the entire town is possessed so they don't trust cops.  The cop gets distracted by The Stuff leaking and Mo takes them to a paramilitary jackhole who thinks that the issue can be solved with guns.  They infiltrate the plant and end up with a whole lot of eyewitnesses to the mobility and semi-sentience of The Stuff so they go to paramilitary dude's radio station to make the announcement.  

 

She liked bukkake before it was cool.

 

Blah, blah, things happen and The Stuff is mostly destroyed. Mo makes the guys who are selling The Stuff eat it and asks them "are you eating it... or is it eating you?"  Then it ends up on the black market.

The end.

 

More trivia, a whole lot of Haagen-Dazs ice cream, yogurt and a lot of fire extinguishing foam was used to create The Stuff.

The Stuff is on the fence for me.

 

This movie is not a drinking game kind of stupid.  I LIKE my friends.  I do not wish to deal with puke and/or hospital visits.  

 

Don't get me wrong.  This is an OK movie, for the time period, and it digs into 80s consumerism in an extremely anvilicious manner which, sometimes, isn't a bad thing.  The problem here is that it didn't reach enough people DURING the 80s to make a difference.  Also, if I had to listen to Michael Moriarty's Foghorn Leghorn accent for another second I was going to reach through my screen and slap the bejeezus out of him.  And, seriously, this movie should be a case study in how to NOT write dumbass characters.

Another issue with this movie is that it's disjointed.  Not much but enough to make me crazy.  On the other hand, there's enough fun in it to make me still recommend it to cult movie fans.  You kind of have to be a LITTLE crazy to like this movie even a little bit.  The special effects, again, for the time period, weren't bad, either.

I recommend having a party in which you play The Blob, Beware! The Blob, the 1988 remake of The Blob and The Stuff.  You should serve pudding, Jell-o, whipped cream, mousse, ice cream and yogurt. 

There should be cherries involved.

HEY, GRAMMAW! I GOT A LITTLE BUNNY RABBIT FOR YA! TA HAVE!

Here's a new one for ya!  Hag Horror!  Hagsploitation!  Grand Dame Guignol!

Actually, they're not all that new but they're all pseudonyms for the distinctive sub-genre known as "Pyschobiddy", also referred to as "Older Women in Peril".  The peril, by the way, does not have to be on the part of the old lady.  The old lady may be the CAUSE of the peril.

Baby Jane is going to eat your soul.

This is a new genre, really, and these thrillers are VERY particular.  Theses films all contain elements of black-comedy, gothic horror, Grand Guignol, melo- and/or psychodrama, revenge and high camp but even with a combination of all of the above, you don't have a hagsploitation flick, yet.  For THAT, you have to have AT LEAST one insane or nearly-insane woman of advanced years that may or may not be all angst-y over a few fuckin' laugh lines.  USUALLY, there is another woman with whom she has a feud.  Usually this other woman is a family member.  Something terrible is assumed to have occurred between them if it's not laid right out for you.

Axe!!!  Bring me the Tina!!

 

Psycho-biddy's aren't used much, anymore, because, really, how much melodrama can we take?  If they are used nowadays, it's purely for laughs.  Frankly, I can see the beginnings of it in Bates Motel but people don't like camp so much these days so I can't even tell you the last time I saw it in a theater (not counting midnight movies).  No, this sub-genre pretty much died out in the 70s with a few throwbacks in the mix.  The last notable Psycho-biddy film in its intended form during that time period is Who Slew Auntie Roo? starring Shelley Winters (which makes this her SECOND Psycho-Biddy picture).  The character type still exists but the films themselves stopped there with a few highlights in the decades later.

I'll tell you what, though, it's a hell of a lot of fun to watch.  There is nothing better than one or two aging actresses going completely wiggity on screen.  Obviously, the best known example of this is Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? but there are a bunch of completely binkers other examples as well.  

 

Tallulah Bankhead... I just like saying her name.  Talloooooolah.

From Baby Jane forward we have OODLES of crazy, old ladies in cinema.  The number one choice for freaked out old broad?  Bette Davis, of course.  She followed up Baby Jane with Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte, The Nanny, and The Anniversary.  Joan Crawford got in a few licks later with Berserk and Straight-Jacket.  Those two never did get along.

The genre continues through about 1971 with films like What's the Matter with Helen?, Whatever happened to Aunt Alice? and Sunset Boulevard.

There seems to be a theme with the titles.  I figure if people just sat down and WATCHED the movie, they'd know what happened to Aunt Alice.

 

These characters have continued to show up in cinema, though, and I, for one, think that's grand.  From the old lady in the tub in The Shining, to Mrs. Voorhees to the sisters in The Lords of Salem, these cackling crones just give another layer of crazy to what is probably a crazy film to begin with.

Now, I said that the genre stopped and it did but there has been at least one other example that bears note.

Damn, lady... I feel like I should be practicing penmanship on your lip.

 In 1987, Louise Fletcher (previously known to audiences as Nurse Ratched in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest) took on the role of a grandmother with some SERIOUS issues with her incestuous grandchildren in Flowers in the Attic.  The entire movie is Child Abuse 101.  Fortunately, the movie was less intense than in the novel because she's about a million times worse in the book.  Two words:  hot tar.  On a child's head. 

So, yeah.  These movies are pretty much the best unintentional hilarity money can buy.  They are fucked up.  There really isn't any other way to say it.  But in that fucked-up-ed-ness you really do get some AMAZING performances.  Yeah, they're overblown but that's kind of the point.  These characters are insane.  It says so right on the box.  And that insanity leads to a diet high in scenery.

And that's what makes these movies awesome.

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. 

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.

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.