Meow.

OK!  So.  I promised you a late TropeFest because I'm a nerd that likes to turn large sections of bodily real estate into inky hamburger, temporarily.

LET'S BEGIN!

Eeeeexcellent.

As long as there has been horror, there have been asshole writers and directors trying to fake our shit out and THAT, kids brings us to the number one misused cheap ploy, EVER, the cat scare.  That's right, kids.  The Spring-loaded Cat.  And they're all fucking LAUNCHED at the actor because cats don't fucking come when you call them.  Some idjit has to stand off-screen and throw a cat at an actor.  I want that job.  That's the best fucking job, EVER! 

Beaten.  Hard.

Horror writers want to lull us into a false sense of confidence.  We get a HUGE build up of tension.  Our heroine (usually) is creeping along just WAITING for something to happen.  She expects it.  She WANTS it, almost.  We, as the audience are right there with her.  A door or cabinet or something opens a fraction of an inch.  Being the IDIOT that she is, our girl either stops and waits for something to happen or ACTUALLY OPENS THE FUCKING DOOR!  Either way, she gets a face full of screeching feline.  And ladies in the audience scream EVERY FUCKING TIME!

Oh, if only it happened this way all the time...

And, of course, the minute she says "Oh, Mittens, you scared me, yessoo diiid.  YESSoo did" is the minute she ends up face to heaving chest with a maniac loaded with large pointy things and the athletic facial protective gear of your choice.  Because boo.

Now, this trope isn't specifically limited to cats.  Bats and rats show up just as often.  Very rarely, you get a fluffy dog of a toy breed but mostly it's things that rhyme with "at". 

That's right.  "At."  As in "Fuck That".

Many times, the cat is an obvious precursor.  The character gets the cat scare and then realizes that there's no way the cat could have actually gotten to where he was without opposable thumbs and wrists that turn.  This, of course, does not take into account that cats are evil, little ninjas and they hang out in high places by their paws so as to drop on unsuspecting teen morons.  They still can't open locked doors, though, as far as humanity is aware so we have to assume that someone let them in.

OH, HOLY JEEBUS!!  IT CAN TURN THE KNOB!!

Fortunately, this trope is well on it's way toward being discredited because, seriously, it's starting to piss me right the fuck off.  This is just a low blow and it needs to stop.  There are other ways of building and releasing tension, film makers.  Use them.

Sorry...

I'm sorry, kids.  Today was a little hectic but I'll have TropeFest ready for you tomorrow.

In the meantime, look at what took up a largish chunk of my day.

Look at it!  Looooooook!

The cupcake commands it.

I am pleased.

Earworm

Occasionally, kids, I get to see things that very few people have and, while this is not always a good thing, I relish the chance to do it.  It gives me a little thrill.  It's like getting the fast pass at the amusement park. 

Of course, sometimes the wait just isn't worth it.

In 2008, Pat Higgins released his mockumentary The Devil's Music.  It hit the festival circuit and it did pretty well.  Let's talk about it, shall we?

The film follows the exploits of Erika Spawn, a "shock rocker" with a bit of a shady past who's known for her angry feminism, anonymous guitarist in a gas mask, bitchy bassist and gory stage work with a straight razor and a lot of fake blood.  Plus the occasional stuffed animal used to dispel those stupid rumors spread about everybody from Alice Cooper to Marilyn Manson in regards to murdering puppies.

Through the course of the film, we get introduced to band members and agents and publicists and eventually, along comes the hook.  A little psuedo-groupie by the name of Stephanie.  No one knows how she became so important but she joins the tour and brings along her own brand of strange with her.

Are you talkin' shit about my girl?

There's also Erika's "competition" to worry about, Robin Harris, an ex-boy band member and all-around goodie-two-shoes.  Punk-ass bitch.

Now, BECAUSE this movie hasn't gotten a whole lot of exposure, I'm not going to tell you too much because I kind of think you have to see this for yourself.

'Cause ex-boy-band members occasionally need a boot to the neck.

That being said, though, I didn't care for it much.  For an indie film it was OK and the shaky-cam (which I still fucking abhor) wasn't too bad but seriously, I was more scared watching Sandro explode on Project Runway last week.  I understand that the point here wasn't to instill a sense of fear per se but, rather, to give an unflinching documentary-style look at a mystery involving a missing woman.  Unfortunately, it was about a woman with whom I was not emotionally invested.

Not her. I liked her.

 Don't get me wrong.  I'm all about metalheads stickin' it to the man and giving the world a giant fuck you and I know that's what Higgins was trying to do.  On that front I give him total props.  The ideas presented are the right ideas and I'm glad someone had them. 

On the other hand, we also had to deal with, in my opinion, lackluster acting where it seemed like characters were afraid to get passionate.  You're fucking metalheads, bitches, SCREAM!  Rage at the fucking machine!  Only the actress portraying Adele, the bassist, seemed to be able to bring her voice to full volume.  I don't know if that's a British thing or not but it makes for a rather milquetoast movie.  Plus, there isn't a lot to bring the gorehounds to the yard and the Satan fans might feel a bit teased.  And, lastly, the music was not fun to listen to.  It did not have a good beat and I could not dance to it.  If you're going to make a movie about music, make sure that AT LEAST the music is good.

Sorry, Pat.  I know you brought this to me directly and it had it's good points but I can't call it a favorite.  It's a GREAT effort, though, and that scores you some points.  I do see some AWESOME potential in your work, and that's what counts.

If you want to catch it for yourself, you can watch it here (not for free, though, sorry) and make up your own mind.  As I always say, your mileage may vary. 

Conditioner. Invest.

Hidey-ho, kids!  Today we're gonna dip our toes into the vast, murky waters of J-Horror again because, dammit, I sat through Sadako 3D for you so you didn't have to.  Bitches.

Also known as Ringu 5, director Tsutomu Hanabusa drags us kicking and screaming back into the world of Sadako, the stringy-haired ghost girl we've all come to know and loathe in the previous four Ringu films.  Because, seriously, how long can she go on being bitter about being tossed into a well?  Also, this one is in 3D which makes it even more annoying.

We start out with a dude in white tossing a long-haired girl into a well.  There's really no explanation for it but there are a whole lot of women with long, black hair and nightdresses in the well so it seems he's been at this for a while.

Captain Douchenugget

So, anyway, this takes place thirteen years after the events of the first movie and there's been a rash of suicides but they're all pretty darn mysterious so Detective Koiso and his partner are investigating.  The only link they can come up with is that they were all playing video on portable devices and (unbeknownst to them... because I like saying "unbeknownst") there's a voice that says "You're not the one" just before horrible hurty pain.  Koiso is all "this is just stupidness" but his partner believes in the cursed video put online by Kashiwada Seiji (the asshole in white up there), an online artist that had a troll-fight and got his panties all twisted.

In the meantime, one of the suicides is a schoolgirl in Akane Ayukawa's class.  The girl's friend, Lisa, is frantically trying to find the video because she's a stupid heifer.  When searching for the video, it leaves a 404 error but it will still play when you're alone.  Which is, like, the worst coding EVER.

You paid extra for this shit?

The video, by the way, is Kashiwada saying "It's Showtime" like he's fuckin' Beetlejuice or something and then being strangled by an invisible force.  SMOKE AND MIRRORS, I SAY!!  But then S (she's not named until later in the movie) comes out of the screen and strangles you with her gross, unwashed locks.  She manages to get a hold of Akane and says "You are the one."

And then we find out that Akane is a telekinetic and Sadako wants her because she's powerful and with her power she can erase all humanity from existence.  That's not optimal.  Sadako snatches Takanori Andou (Akane's boyfriend?) and makes him disappear into an LCD screen on the side of a truck.  Akane tracks Sadako down to her original well and has to do battle with all of the Sadako grasshopper monsters and she wins the day by destroying an iPhone because the Japanese are fucked in the head.

Stabby.

Seriously, Japan?  You're not even trying anymore.  What happened to dark and suspenseful?  What happened to moody and atmospheric?  I mean, you didn't even try to go all off-the-charts crazy.  You're turning into mainstream Hollywood, Japan and I don't like it.  If you're gonna give me grasshopper girls you could at LEAST invest in decent special effects.  These were all Invasion of the Crab Monsters cheesy.  Ed Wood could have done this better and he didn't even have CGI to contend with. 

I know that this movie had some out there advertising but, fuck, man.  The 3D was laughable.  The script was boring.  The lead actress stumbled her way through this like she was sharing Sharon Stone's highball on the set of Catwoman.  There was no art here.  This was all about profit and it shows.

Skip it.  Skip it HARD.