Ten thoughts that popped into my head while reading on the bowl. None worthy of an entire blog about, but all worth mentioning:
1) If you find yourself halfway through December, shopping for last-minute (or mid-minute...or whatever) XMas gifts, and you're dealing with either other people's or your own XMas Rage (the XMas shopping equivalent of road rage), you probably have your local Shitty Soccer Mom radio station to thank. It's not even Thanksgiving yet and already one local station (93.3 FM in the Boston area) is bludgeoning the air wave with good cheer and jingle bells. I heard The Carpenters' "No Place Like Home For The Holidays" and wanted to punch someone - in this case, the DJ - in the face. I can't imagine what I'll be like after the 20th or 30th time I hear Nat King Cole singing about Chet's nuts roasting on an open fire, which will probably be on November 25th, at the rate these damned songs get played on the radio and in the malls. No wonder more and more people voice their hatred of XMas (and I use the term XMas because there's nothing religious about what goes on between November 1st and December 30th...).
2) Every October, as part of my Halloween traditions, I read Stephen King's Danse Macabre. And every year I experience something new - a novel or film, etc - within. This year I bought the entire TV show, Thriller. I'm still sifting through the set's 14 DVDs. Good to great stuff. I also made it a point in October to read some of King's recommended novels. Donovan's Brain...William Goldman's Magic...a James Herbert novel...and Anne River Siddons' The House Next Door. Though I agree with King's points about that last novel, I can't actually believe he enjoyed it. In fact, I have to believe that he made some money by including it in his overview of "great horror novels." That he included it in the same discussion as Jackson's The Haunting Of Hill House staggered me - it's like comparing a classic muscle car to a punch in the taint. Siddons' book - while it had its creepy moments and a pretty solid ending - was plodding, with dialogue that would make the hackiest soap opera script writer laugh out loud. Apparently, in 1970s upscale suburbia, the greatest horrors one could find are homosexuality, extreme depression, and illegitimate children. If Anne River Siddons wishes to write another "horror" novel, I'd suggest she go the serial killer route and make it about a guy who farts loudly at banquets. Her readers would have CORONARIES!!!
3) When the most fun one has playing fantasy football is the act of naming one's team, one probably shouldn't play fantasy football. I'm in various states of playoff contention in my leagues, and am equally apathetic towards them all. Still, when I look them all over the day before the first game of the week, I have to chuckle. Riley Steele's Bum and Executive Koalas each earn a "tee hee," but Romancin' Tory Lane and Ribbed For Her Pleasure (actually named by my wife) fully crack me up.
4) That said, February - and fantasy baseball season - can't come fast enough...
5) If there's one word that - upon its utterance - can reduce me to fits of giggling and joy, it's "Hausu." And, yes, there WILL be a full blog post about it.
6) What would possess someone to air personal issues in a public forum like Facebook, using another person's account? At best, it's a bit creepy, and worth cocking one's eyebrow at said person. At worst, it's scummy, and the person in question should probably take a good long look at him/herself.
7) My Basset Hounds bay at me and/or my wife at least once a day, and this has been going on for the last few months. It starts with DeeDee giving us a quick "woof," builds to a full series of barks, and then there's a pause before DeeDee lets fly with a soulful (for her) howl. Within moments, LuLu joins in with a high pitched offering of her own. This can go on anywhere from just a minute to the point where we have to beg the dogs to shut up. And it makes me laugh every time. There's an earnestness in DeeDee's face as she "sings" that always breaks me. And when LuLu stares at us with a look of confusion at the proceeding before joining in because she thinks she has to, it kills me. If it happens at Thanksgiving, at my in-laws' house, with the added voices of their Basset and Bloodhound, I may just pee my pants...
8) The upside to playing WoW in the month before the next expansion? Picking and choosing which achievements you'll acquire. The complete lack of pressure to do any sort of raiding. Making crazy amounts of gold at one's own pace. Helping my brother learn the game as we prepare to play Worgen in the next expansion (Worgen, by the way, are werewolves, and are the whole reason I started playing in the first place). The downside? Almost everyone else I enjoy playing with are burnt out on the game and haven't been around. I miss my friends (*sob!*)...
9) I watched the first week of Conan O'Brien's new talk show. While it's obvious that they're still getting back into the groove of the format and its requirements - the pacing of the show is a little off and whoever is in charge of the musical guest's soundboard needs a beating (poor Chris Cornell...) - the show itself is pretty damned solid. Great interplay with the guests, good to great opening monologues, and a good balance of self-effacing humor and shitting on NBC. I'll keep watching.
10) Could someone PLEASE watch Bitchin' Kitchen on The Cooking Channel and explain to me why I keep watching? The chick who "hosts" the show isn't hot, her voice and accent are annoying as hell, and the cast of men who serve as "comic relief" should all be castrated (or at least forced to serve as the test audience for Carlos Mencia). WHY HAVEN'T I MISSED AN EPISODE???
Friday, November 12, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
31 in 31 (Part Two): Bumbling to the Fin(n)ish Line
Shout Factory was another highlight this year. This distributor got the rights to a ton of films produced by Roger Corman and released them with a ridiculous amount of love and respect, as well as a cubic arseload of bonus features. Galaxy of Terror and Forbidden World - those glorious rip-offs of Alien - had me chuckling throughout. If you're a fan of the Green movement, check these two films out, along with Battle Beyond the Stars. There is no better example of recycling than these three movies. Piranha was better than I expected, and far better than the 3D remake/reimagining (the remake suffers from a case of "not enough" - not enough practical effects, not enough nudity, and not enough to make me care). In fact, the original was a lot of fun, another thing the remake lacked enough of. And what can one truly say about the Slumber Party Massacre trilogy? They are outstandingly awful. The second may actually be better than the "original" (can any of these slasher pics TRULY be called original?) in its ludicrous execution, and the third is by far the weakest, but all three are worth watching, if only to see how female screenwriters and directors tackle a subgenre that is notable only (for the most part) for its misogyny. I may revisit these films as part of a greater context...to be continued.
Speaking of slashers, any fan of them needs to acknowledge a debt owed to director Herschell Gordon Lewis, the original Godfather of Gore. Say what you will about his low budget, poorly acted horror flick, there is an actual sense of glee running through them that is undeniable and helps them transcend their own limitations. If you haven't seen his "Blood Trilogy" (Blood Feast, Color Me Blood Red, and 2000 Maniacs), I urge you to rent or buy them immediately. Fans of gore will NOT be disappointed. And 2000 Maniacs just gave me one more reason to love Lewis and curse the fact that I discovered him as late as I did. It's a wonderfully awful movie, rife with bad acting, awful Southern stereotypes, and hilarious kills.
I want to go back to Richard Stanley. I said before that I finally watched Dust Devil (a brilliant film that combined your basic stalk-and-slash film with the supernatural killer film with a thread of African folklore to guide it), and loved the hell out of it. I also watched his film debut - the underrated Hardware, which combined science fiction tropes with the slasher film. Both films were wonderful. But it was the interviews with Stanley in the bonus features that left me dazzled. I'm convinced the man is both a genius (whom I would love to see make a movie with a proper budget) and an Alan Moore-level madman. The man needs to be seen to be believed. In fact, you need to add these two films to your Netflix queue or your "must rent/buy" list. Both are great films by an amazing director, films that toy with and transcend what is considered conventional and cliche.
Some quick words on Werewolf in a Girls Dormitory and Loreley's Grasp. I love it when I stumble across a low budget foreign film that tinkers with a monster's legend and makes it the film's own. Both these movies do that. Werewolf in a Girls Dormitory is a laughably bad flick (bad acting, bad dubbing, awful plot, etc), but it plays with the idea of what makes the monster in an interesting way. Loreley's Grasp (which I believe is a Spanish/German co-production), directed by Amando de Ossorio (famous for his Blind Dead series) plays with the Nibelung story to fine effect. It is equal parts creepy, tragic...and sexy, thanks to the gorgeous Helga Line (who also appears in Horror Rises From the Tomb, another flick that balances creepy and sexy wonderfully).
Although two of my favorite horror films are remakes, the last decade of ill-advised and unnecessary remakes/reimaginings (low-lighted by Rob Zombie's atrocious Halloween films - prime examples of a director pissing all over the originals...Rob may have the best of intentions, but piss is piss, for all that...) have made me hate the very idea of the remake. That said, The Crazies was surprising, in that I found myself enjoying it almost from the very beginning. Plot: a plane crashes in a town's nearby river/water supply and the unleashed biologic weapon turns the infected townsfolk into psychotics. It's up to the town's sheriff - along with his wife (the town doctor), and his deputy - to save the uninfected from the infected people, as well as the military who is brought in to cover up the situation with extreme prejudice. A remake, at its best, should either make you forget the original, make you approach the original with a new set of eyes, or stand on its own merits. The Crazies, for its admittedly few flaws, does the latter.
What can be said about Freaks? I could see exactly why an audience of the 30s would be shocked and terrified by such a film. It is a tight little morality play that truly was ahead of its time. Go see it.
I close with Sympathy and Ludlow for a very simple reason. Both films, for all their merits and flaws, underscore a very simple theory I have, one I will repeat over and over again: These days, in order to find the best in horror and suspense cinema, one needs to stop looking to the major studios and start looking to the independents. Sympathy is the weaker of the two movies, a tale of a hostage situation gone wrong whose twists (and there are more than a few) force the film to collapse under its own weight. It's an example of a director and script that tries to be a bit too clever for his/its own good. Ludlow, on the other hand, was a great movie, reminiscent of Repulsion, telling the tale of an abused woman who has finally escaped her abuser only to collide head-on with her own demons. It was a bleak film from start to finish, but a great film at that.
I watched both films last Wednesday as part of a mini film festival (hosted by the brilliant website/blog, All Things Horror), combined with a number of short films. I walked out feeling that I got more than my money's worth. I can't remember when I last felt that way about a studio horror film. But it seems to happen consistently when I go outside my comfort zone and seek out film festivals, such as the Boston Underground Film Festival (which I have faithfully attended every year since 2006), which cater to the true independent genre films and give voice and exposure to those filmmakers who otherwise wouldn't get it. I walk away from these screening, at worst, thankful for the opportunity to see these movies and, at best, dazzled by at least one film. I urge you, and will do so several times throughout this blog, to seek out these films and festivals in your area. If it involves a bit of travel, do it. Even if you always don't love the movies you see, you'll be helping the hosts and their sponsors to continue to expose the true future of genre cinema. And you will, more often than not, discover some truly great offerings that you otherwise wouldn't have experienced.
This month did have some regrets. I didn't get the chance to view the films of Mario Bava or Paul Walker, as I'd intended. It was a Vincent Price-free experience. I couldn't justify the inclusion of some films, most notably the wonderful Rock 'n' Roll High School. Time constraints kept me away from the movie theaters, which means I have yet to see Paranormal Activity 2, The Last Exorcism, and a few others. And the limitations I set for myself ensured that there was no discussion of The Devil's Nightmare, Suck, Trick 'r Treat, or the recently released Hausu. But these films WILL be discussed in the future (especially Hausu, which, at this point, all I'll say is SEE IT!!!). Most of the films discussed (albeit briefly) would otherwise fly under your radar.
And there's always next year, isn't there?
Speaking of slashers, any fan of them needs to acknowledge a debt owed to director Herschell Gordon Lewis, the original Godfather of Gore. Say what you will about his low budget, poorly acted horror flick, there is an actual sense of glee running through them that is undeniable and helps them transcend their own limitations. If you haven't seen his "Blood Trilogy" (Blood Feast, Color Me Blood Red, and 2000 Maniacs), I urge you to rent or buy them immediately. Fans of gore will NOT be disappointed. And 2000 Maniacs just gave me one more reason to love Lewis and curse the fact that I discovered him as late as I did. It's a wonderfully awful movie, rife with bad acting, awful Southern stereotypes, and hilarious kills.
I want to go back to Richard Stanley. I said before that I finally watched Dust Devil (a brilliant film that combined your basic stalk-and-slash film with the supernatural killer film with a thread of African folklore to guide it), and loved the hell out of it. I also watched his film debut - the underrated Hardware, which combined science fiction tropes with the slasher film. Both films were wonderful. But it was the interviews with Stanley in the bonus features that left me dazzled. I'm convinced the man is both a genius (whom I would love to see make a movie with a proper budget) and an Alan Moore-level madman. The man needs to be seen to be believed. In fact, you need to add these two films to your Netflix queue or your "must rent/buy" list. Both are great films by an amazing director, films that toy with and transcend what is considered conventional and cliche.
Some quick words on Werewolf in a Girls Dormitory and Loreley's Grasp. I love it when I stumble across a low budget foreign film that tinkers with a monster's legend and makes it the film's own. Both these movies do that. Werewolf in a Girls Dormitory is a laughably bad flick (bad acting, bad dubbing, awful plot, etc), but it plays with the idea of what makes the monster in an interesting way. Loreley's Grasp (which I believe is a Spanish/German co-production), directed by Amando de Ossorio (famous for his Blind Dead series) plays with the Nibelung story to fine effect. It is equal parts creepy, tragic...and sexy, thanks to the gorgeous Helga Line (who also appears in Horror Rises From the Tomb, another flick that balances creepy and sexy wonderfully).
Although two of my favorite horror films are remakes, the last decade of ill-advised and unnecessary remakes/reimaginings (low-lighted by Rob Zombie's atrocious Halloween films - prime examples of a director pissing all over the originals...Rob may have the best of intentions, but piss is piss, for all that...) have made me hate the very idea of the remake. That said, The Crazies was surprising, in that I found myself enjoying it almost from the very beginning. Plot: a plane crashes in a town's nearby river/water supply and the unleashed biologic weapon turns the infected townsfolk into psychotics. It's up to the town's sheriff - along with his wife (the town doctor), and his deputy - to save the uninfected from the infected people, as well as the military who is brought in to cover up the situation with extreme prejudice. A remake, at its best, should either make you forget the original, make you approach the original with a new set of eyes, or stand on its own merits. The Crazies, for its admittedly few flaws, does the latter.
What can be said about Freaks? I could see exactly why an audience of the 30s would be shocked and terrified by such a film. It is a tight little morality play that truly was ahead of its time. Go see it.
I close with Sympathy and Ludlow for a very simple reason. Both films, for all their merits and flaws, underscore a very simple theory I have, one I will repeat over and over again: These days, in order to find the best in horror and suspense cinema, one needs to stop looking to the major studios and start looking to the independents. Sympathy is the weaker of the two movies, a tale of a hostage situation gone wrong whose twists (and there are more than a few) force the film to collapse under its own weight. It's an example of a director and script that tries to be a bit too clever for his/its own good. Ludlow, on the other hand, was a great movie, reminiscent of Repulsion, telling the tale of an abused woman who has finally escaped her abuser only to collide head-on with her own demons. It was a bleak film from start to finish, but a great film at that.
I watched both films last Wednesday as part of a mini film festival (hosted by the brilliant website/blog, All Things Horror), combined with a number of short films. I walked out feeling that I got more than my money's worth. I can't remember when I last felt that way about a studio horror film. But it seems to happen consistently when I go outside my comfort zone and seek out film festivals, such as the Boston Underground Film Festival (which I have faithfully attended every year since 2006), which cater to the true independent genre films and give voice and exposure to those filmmakers who otherwise wouldn't get it. I walk away from these screening, at worst, thankful for the opportunity to see these movies and, at best, dazzled by at least one film. I urge you, and will do so several times throughout this blog, to seek out these films and festivals in your area. If it involves a bit of travel, do it. Even if you always don't love the movies you see, you'll be helping the hosts and their sponsors to continue to expose the true future of genre cinema. And you will, more often than not, discover some truly great offerings that you otherwise wouldn't have experienced.
This month did have some regrets. I didn't get the chance to view the films of Mario Bava or Paul Walker, as I'd intended. It was a Vincent Price-free experience. I couldn't justify the inclusion of some films, most notably the wonderful Rock 'n' Roll High School. Time constraints kept me away from the movie theaters, which means I have yet to see Paranormal Activity 2, The Last Exorcism, and a few others. And the limitations I set for myself ensured that there was no discussion of The Devil's Nightmare, Suck, Trick 'r Treat, or the recently released Hausu. But these films WILL be discussed in the future (especially Hausu, which, at this point, all I'll say is SEE IT!!!). Most of the films discussed (albeit briefly) would otherwise fly under your radar.
And there's always next year, isn't there?
31 in 31; Or, "I Watched WHAT???" (Part One)
Completed. Victorious. With one day to spare. For the sake of (temporary) posterity, here is the final list of film that I watched. In alphabetical order:
Bluebeard (1944)
The Boogey Man
The Brood
The Crazies (remake)
The Devonsville Terror
Dust Devil
Face
Forbidden World
Freaks
Galaxy of Terror
The Gorgon
Hardware
Horror Rises From The Tomb
Infection
Loreley's Grasp
Ludlow
Maniac (1934)
The Mummy (1959)
Nosferatu (1922)
Piranha
The Reptile
The Roost
The Screaming Skull
Slumber Party Massacre
Slumber Party Massacre 2
Slumber Party Massacre 3
Sympathy
Tokyo Zombie
Two Thousand Maniacs
Werewolf in a Girls Dormitory
X the Unknown
The best movies I watched were Nosferatu, Dust Devil, Horror Rises From the Tomb, and The Brood. The original Nosferatu, as a film, transcends review. It is a film that any horror fan must see, if only to grasp the history of the genre. To say Nosferatu holds up today in terms of creepiness and general atmosphere is to state the obvious (and aren't you glad I did?). Dust Devil was a bit of a surprise. It was an impulse buy years ago, a beautiful DVD package that includes some of Richard Stanley's documentary work as well as the film's soundtrack and an exhaustive essay/production diary of the film. As the closing credits rolled, all I could think was, "What took me so long?" Horror Rises From the Tomb, starring Paul Naschy, was a joy to watch - a beautiful balance of Bava-esque gothic horror in a contemporary setting with a generous dash of Eurotrash. In less than 90 minutes, I decided to track down more of Naschy's work, as well as expand my own knowledge base of the European horrors of the 70s - the Spanish, the Italian, the co-productions, etc. And what can one say about The Brood that hasn't already been said? Director David Cronenberg knows how to make a movie that terrorizes with its subtext (in this case, the destruction of the nuclear family, as well as some very pointed criticisms about pop therapy), while repulsing the viewer with scenes of body horror that drive his points home.
The worst film this month was EASILY The Roost, where a group of douchebags get lost on the way to a friend's wedding and are menaced by bats that either turn their prey into zombies...or psychotics...or something. It was far too easy to let boredom wash over me, and I quickly lost the thread of the film. Director Ti West fostered an apathy in me that was impossible to shake. Unlikeable characters, illogical decisions that opened up plotholes, and inexplicable cuts to some kind of horror host made the movie virtually unwatchable. Congrats, Mr. West, The Roost made me skeptical towards any future projects you may spew forth. Which is saying a LOT, considering...
...that I watched Ulli Lommel's The Boogey Man and The Devonsville Terror. And they were AWFUL. I had heard of Lommel through various horror websites and message boards, and none of the reports were good. The overwhelming view is that Ulli Lommel's films are dismal. But I bought the movies on a value priced DVD a while ago based on the childhood memory of The Boogeyman's VHS box cover and how it always scared me just enough to rent something else. But I really had nothing to fear. The Boogey Man starts off leading the viewer to believe that s/he is watching a rather dumb, bland slasher flick before establishing itself as a ludicrously dumb supernatural killer flick. Lommel takes liberties with the plot that would've been insulting if I wasn't so busy laughing at the stupidity of it all. Plot points, such as the abusive mother wanting to see her kids and the son's violent reaction to a horse-faced neighbor's advances - go nowhere. Characters make decisions that can charitably be called moronic. And the acting? Wooden. Not even a pointless cameo by John Carradine can save this steaming pile of movie, whose high point was the murder of a group of young people for no other reason than to up the body count and film a scene of a (non-graphic) simulated blow job. Which makes the fact that The Devonsville Terror was actually worse even more shocking. This tale of a sexist town's reaction to three single, professional women arriving on the eve of the anniversary of their founders' witch trial was so bad that at one point I had to pause it and just walk away from it for a few minutes. Another pointless cameo, this time by Donald Pleasance, is used to add name value to the movie. The high point of it all was the scene of the most awkward sexual advance ever put to film. It gave me chills...douche chills...as the tears of laughter rolled down my face. Both films were written by Lommel and his star/now ex-wife, Suzanna Love, which answered a lot of questions. Inexplicably, The Boogey Man has a sequel. Safe to say, I'll be avoiding it.
I have a bit of thanks to offer two sources. First, TCM (Turner Classic Movies) is a wonderful cable channel that made my life easier by showing some of the more obscure Hammer horror film on each Friday night this month. While The Gorgon, The Reptile, and X the Unknown will never be considered on the same level as their Draculas, Frankensteins, or even The Mummy, each was enjoyable in its own right. The Gorgon re-teamed Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing is a surprisingly tragic horror/love story. The Reptile, while predictable, effectively used a sense of paranoia throughout the film to highlight a tale of a curse and the toll it takes on the main characters and the rural townsfolk. In both films, the monster's reveal was a bit laughable, but both films succeeded overall. And X the Unknown, while very similar in plot to The Quatermass Experiment (aka The Creeping Unknown), shines on its own merits. The acting was good, and the film was surprisingly gory in places.
I also should thank my friend, Greg, whose birthday gifts also contributed to this months' viewings. Face - a Japanese film that was half serial killer procedural and half spooky-girl-with-hair-over-half-her-face flick - was shocking in its few scenes of violence and gore. The killer's weak motivation aside, Face was creepy and sad and surprisingly well done. Infection (another Japanese gem) started off by reminding me a bit of John Carpenter's The Thing, with a more real-world "monster," before morphing into a more psychological horror story. The overriding sense of paranoia throughout the films made what should have been a kind of silly flick into something much more. In fact, I was impressed by how restrained the film was in using atmosphere and palpable tension in place of some obvious gross-outs. Not to say the movie isn't gross in (many) points, but far less than it could've been. And Tokyo Zombie was a laugh riot that fed into my love of living dead flicks. I enjoyed this tale of friendship and loyalty. The truly dark moments - the origins of the living dead, one friend's all-too-early fate (which is no spoiler, believe me), the other friend's mysterious relationship with a pedophile teacher (and the scenes involving the actual teacher) - all served to enhance the humor throughout the rest of the film. In fact, add Tokyo Zombie to my favorites of the month!
Greg also provided me with a collection of 50 public domain horror films. And while one goes into these sets knowing that there's a reason the majority of these films have lapsed into the public domain, there is always one or two diamonds in these particular roughs. For me, Maniac was a highlight - the blatant lift of Poe's The Black Cat and the rampant overacting had me laughing my arse off while the nudity (yes, this 30s film had scenes of nudity) left me a bit shocked and off-kilter. I knew that pre-Hays code films had high violence and nudity, but it was still a shock to actually see it. The Screaming Skull took me back to my childhood Saturdays of watching Creature Double Feature - it was a fair film whose TV teaser (or maybe my memory of the teaser) was better than the actual movie. Bluebeard, however, was awful. An unremarkable flick that actually had nothing to do with the Bluebeard tale, this movie was notable only because it starred a young John Carradine in the role of a puppeteer who kills women.
(To be concluded)
Bluebeard (1944)
The Boogey Man
The Brood
The Crazies (remake)
The Devonsville Terror
Dust Devil
Face
Forbidden World
Freaks
Galaxy of Terror
The Gorgon
Hardware
Horror Rises From The Tomb
Infection
Loreley's Grasp
Ludlow
Maniac (1934)
The Mummy (1959)
Nosferatu (1922)
Piranha
The Reptile
The Roost
The Screaming Skull
Slumber Party Massacre
Slumber Party Massacre 2
Slumber Party Massacre 3
Sympathy
Tokyo Zombie
Two Thousand Maniacs
Werewolf in a Girls Dormitory
X the Unknown
The best movies I watched were Nosferatu, Dust Devil, Horror Rises From the Tomb, and The Brood. The original Nosferatu, as a film, transcends review. It is a film that any horror fan must see, if only to grasp the history of the genre. To say Nosferatu holds up today in terms of creepiness and general atmosphere is to state the obvious (and aren't you glad I did?). Dust Devil was a bit of a surprise. It was an impulse buy years ago, a beautiful DVD package that includes some of Richard Stanley's documentary work as well as the film's soundtrack and an exhaustive essay/production diary of the film. As the closing credits rolled, all I could think was, "What took me so long?" Horror Rises From the Tomb, starring Paul Naschy, was a joy to watch - a beautiful balance of Bava-esque gothic horror in a contemporary setting with a generous dash of Eurotrash. In less than 90 minutes, I decided to track down more of Naschy's work, as well as expand my own knowledge base of the European horrors of the 70s - the Spanish, the Italian, the co-productions, etc. And what can one say about The Brood that hasn't already been said? Director David Cronenberg knows how to make a movie that terrorizes with its subtext (in this case, the destruction of the nuclear family, as well as some very pointed criticisms about pop therapy), while repulsing the viewer with scenes of body horror that drive his points home.
The worst film this month was EASILY The Roost, where a group of douchebags get lost on the way to a friend's wedding and are menaced by bats that either turn their prey into zombies...or psychotics...or something. It was far too easy to let boredom wash over me, and I quickly lost the thread of the film. Director Ti West fostered an apathy in me that was impossible to shake. Unlikeable characters, illogical decisions that opened up plotholes, and inexplicable cuts to some kind of horror host made the movie virtually unwatchable. Congrats, Mr. West, The Roost made me skeptical towards any future projects you may spew forth. Which is saying a LOT, considering...
...that I watched Ulli Lommel's The Boogey Man and The Devonsville Terror. And they were AWFUL. I had heard of Lommel through various horror websites and message boards, and none of the reports were good. The overwhelming view is that Ulli Lommel's films are dismal. But I bought the movies on a value priced DVD a while ago based on the childhood memory of The Boogeyman's VHS box cover and how it always scared me just enough to rent something else. But I really had nothing to fear. The Boogey Man starts off leading the viewer to believe that s/he is watching a rather dumb, bland slasher flick before establishing itself as a ludicrously dumb supernatural killer flick. Lommel takes liberties with the plot that would've been insulting if I wasn't so busy laughing at the stupidity of it all. Plot points, such as the abusive mother wanting to see her kids and the son's violent reaction to a horse-faced neighbor's advances - go nowhere. Characters make decisions that can charitably be called moronic. And the acting? Wooden. Not even a pointless cameo by John Carradine can save this steaming pile of movie, whose high point was the murder of a group of young people for no other reason than to up the body count and film a scene of a (non-graphic) simulated blow job. Which makes the fact that The Devonsville Terror was actually worse even more shocking. This tale of a sexist town's reaction to three single, professional women arriving on the eve of the anniversary of their founders' witch trial was so bad that at one point I had to pause it and just walk away from it for a few minutes. Another pointless cameo, this time by Donald Pleasance, is used to add name value to the movie. The high point of it all was the scene of the most awkward sexual advance ever put to film. It gave me chills...douche chills...as the tears of laughter rolled down my face. Both films were written by Lommel and his star/now ex-wife, Suzanna Love, which answered a lot of questions. Inexplicably, The Boogey Man has a sequel. Safe to say, I'll be avoiding it.
I have a bit of thanks to offer two sources. First, TCM (Turner Classic Movies) is a wonderful cable channel that made my life easier by showing some of the more obscure Hammer horror film on each Friday night this month. While The Gorgon, The Reptile, and X the Unknown will never be considered on the same level as their Draculas, Frankensteins, or even The Mummy, each was enjoyable in its own right. The Gorgon re-teamed Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing is a surprisingly tragic horror/love story. The Reptile, while predictable, effectively used a sense of paranoia throughout the film to highlight a tale of a curse and the toll it takes on the main characters and the rural townsfolk. In both films, the monster's reveal was a bit laughable, but both films succeeded overall. And X the Unknown, while very similar in plot to The Quatermass Experiment (aka The Creeping Unknown), shines on its own merits. The acting was good, and the film was surprisingly gory in places.
I also should thank my friend, Greg, whose birthday gifts also contributed to this months' viewings. Face - a Japanese film that was half serial killer procedural and half spooky-girl-with-hair-over-half-her-face flick - was shocking in its few scenes of violence and gore. The killer's weak motivation aside, Face was creepy and sad and surprisingly well done. Infection (another Japanese gem) started off by reminding me a bit of John Carpenter's The Thing, with a more real-world "monster," before morphing into a more psychological horror story. The overriding sense of paranoia throughout the films made what should have been a kind of silly flick into something much more. In fact, I was impressed by how restrained the film was in using atmosphere and palpable tension in place of some obvious gross-outs. Not to say the movie isn't gross in (many) points, but far less than it could've been. And Tokyo Zombie was a laugh riot that fed into my love of living dead flicks. I enjoyed this tale of friendship and loyalty. The truly dark moments - the origins of the living dead, one friend's all-too-early fate (which is no spoiler, believe me), the other friend's mysterious relationship with a pedophile teacher (and the scenes involving the actual teacher) - all served to enhance the humor throughout the rest of the film. In fact, add Tokyo Zombie to my favorites of the month!
Greg also provided me with a collection of 50 public domain horror films. And while one goes into these sets knowing that there's a reason the majority of these films have lapsed into the public domain, there is always one or two diamonds in these particular roughs. For me, Maniac was a highlight - the blatant lift of Poe's The Black Cat and the rampant overacting had me laughing my arse off while the nudity (yes, this 30s film had scenes of nudity) left me a bit shocked and off-kilter. I knew that pre-Hays code films had high violence and nudity, but it was still a shock to actually see it. The Screaming Skull took me back to my childhood Saturdays of watching Creature Double Feature - it was a fair film whose TV teaser (or maybe my memory of the teaser) was better than the actual movie. Bluebeard, however, was awful. An unremarkable flick that actually had nothing to do with the Bluebeard tale, this movie was notable only because it starred a young John Carradine in the role of a puppeteer who kills women.
(To be concluded)
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Saying Goodbye & Moving Forward
This blog is late simply because, when a loved one passes - even if that loved one is a pet - it tends to take the wind out of one's sails. Dealing with real-world death always renders those seen on screen as pointless. Irrelevant. On Thursday, October 7th, the wife and I said goodbye to our cat, Doc, as a result of Feline Infectious Peritonitis. Long explanation short, pretty much every cat carries it, but a ridiculously small amount actually succumb to it because it could lie dormant for the life of the animal. Doc was not so lucky. The vet told us that there really was nothing we could've done, which was a small comfort. My mother-in-law made us feel better by pointing out that most families wouldn't have kept Doc for his lifetime, which made us good, if not great, parents. You see, for the first few months of Doc's life, he was feral, and never completely grew out of that. He would, on occasion, allow my wife to pick him up and pet him, but he never really wanted anything to do with me. Perhaps because I walk heavy, or maybe because I'm louder than he liked. The fact remains that I never had much of a relationship with Doc. My one memory of our interaction is a bit off-color, and not worth telling. Which is why I've been a bit surprised at my own reaction - the sadness that comes at random, the pain I feel when my oldest cat mews as if he knows that Doc is gone and not coming back. I had a dream the following night that had me fighting back sobs because of how real it was up until the realization that, no, Doc wasn't coming back.
This is a long way to say, "Goodbye Doc. I'll miss you."
This is a long way to say, "Goodbye Doc. I'll miss you."
Friday, October 1, 2010
By Way Of Introduction...
For me, it all starts back in 1981 in Somerville, Massachusetts. My maternal grandparents had my siblings and I for the weekend while our parents stayed home and did...well, whatever one's parents do when one and one's siblings are safely sent away. Nana and Grampy, desperate for something that would keep us entertained and (more importantly) QUIET, decided to take us to a movie. It was a wonderful flick, full of action and adventure, with a hero that I knew I wanted to be when I grew up and a beautiful damsel that I knew I wanted to save shortly after the whole growin' up thing. It was a funny movie in places, and I remember doing a lot of cheering. Towards the end of the film, our hero and the damsel are captured by the bad guys and seem to have no escape. The villains opened the treasure box...and that's when things went bad.
Real bad. I may not have known the word, but things were about to go really FUCKING bad!!!
A lot of bad guys died in those moments. And they died badly. Screaming. One bad guy started shaking and then blew up, while another - the one that creeped me out the most during the movie - just...melted. I ducked down as low as I could in my seat, but could still see everything from the crack between the seats in front of me. Worse, I could hear everything. And I knew that these scenes, and not the ones of action and romance, would be waiting for me when I tried to sleep that night. Because I had committed a mortal sin: I didn't heed the hero's advice. He warned against it, but I looked anyways.
So, really, I'm as much to blame for my horror fandom as Indiana Jones is.
This blog starts, and will run for the next month, as part of a challenge that I participate in: to watch 31 horror films over the 31 days of October. Last year, I failed miserably. The year before, I succeeded, but just so. This year, I intend not only to succeed, but do so with flying colors. And I intend to take you along for the ride. I've set certain ground rules for this go-round. First, I'll only be watching films that I've never seen before. So no Devil's Nightmare, no John Carpenter's The Thing, no to the more well-known Fulci flicks, probably no George Romero...you get the idea. I've eventually write about those flicks, but it won't be this month. Which brings us to Rule #2 - it doesn't count until it appears here. So I can watch three hundred flicks this month, but if there's no post, it never happened. Just as, if a blog posts on the internet and no one reads it...
Y'know what? I'm not gonna finish that thought.
Of course, I won't JUST be writing reviews. I'll probably end up revealing far more about myself that anyone cares to know. I'll write about cool stuff I stumble across. And I'll occasionally use the movies to comment on something else going on, though I'll fight tooth and nail to NOT discuss politics. Leave that to the experts, or to those who aren't completely disgusted by what they read, see, and hear. In the end, my goal is simple: To entertain you, and maybe point out some pop culture that you didn't know about before. And maybe make you think. But mostly entertain. And, succeed or fail, win or lose, I promise to make it at least an interesting ride.
Later, I'll talk about other interests. I'm sure World of Warcraft, and my hypocrisy regarding the foolish game, will be a regular part of the discussion. I'll rave about books I love and crap all over those I hate. I can damn-well guarantee some real-life and fantasy sports talk. And there'll be movies...and TV...and music...and we'll commiserate about work...and I'll respond to your comments. All of them...from, uh, both of you. So stick around. Enjoy. I am, after all, both humble host and servant.
Real bad. I may not have known the word, but things were about to go really FUCKING bad!!!
A lot of bad guys died in those moments. And they died badly. Screaming. One bad guy started shaking and then blew up, while another - the one that creeped me out the most during the movie - just...melted. I ducked down as low as I could in my seat, but could still see everything from the crack between the seats in front of me. Worse, I could hear everything. And I knew that these scenes, and not the ones of action and romance, would be waiting for me when I tried to sleep that night. Because I had committed a mortal sin: I didn't heed the hero's advice. He warned against it, but I looked anyways.
So, really, I'm as much to blame for my horror fandom as Indiana Jones is.
This blog starts, and will run for the next month, as part of a challenge that I participate in: to watch 31 horror films over the 31 days of October. Last year, I failed miserably. The year before, I succeeded, but just so. This year, I intend not only to succeed, but do so with flying colors. And I intend to take you along for the ride. I've set certain ground rules for this go-round. First, I'll only be watching films that I've never seen before. So no Devil's Nightmare, no John Carpenter's The Thing, no to the more well-known Fulci flicks, probably no George Romero...you get the idea. I've eventually write about those flicks, but it won't be this month. Which brings us to Rule #2 - it doesn't count until it appears here. So I can watch three hundred flicks this month, but if there's no post, it never happened. Just as, if a blog posts on the internet and no one reads it...
Y'know what? I'm not gonna finish that thought.
Of course, I won't JUST be writing reviews. I'll probably end up revealing far more about myself that anyone cares to know. I'll write about cool stuff I stumble across. And I'll occasionally use the movies to comment on something else going on, though I'll fight tooth and nail to NOT discuss politics. Leave that to the experts, or to those who aren't completely disgusted by what they read, see, and hear. In the end, my goal is simple: To entertain you, and maybe point out some pop culture that you didn't know about before. And maybe make you think. But mostly entertain. And, succeed or fail, win or lose, I promise to make it at least an interesting ride.
Later, I'll talk about other interests. I'm sure World of Warcraft, and my hypocrisy regarding the foolish game, will be a regular part of the discussion. I'll rave about books I love and crap all over those I hate. I can damn-well guarantee some real-life and fantasy sports talk. And there'll be movies...and TV...and music...and we'll commiserate about work...and I'll respond to your comments. All of them...from, uh, both of you. So stick around. Enjoy. I am, after all, both humble host and servant.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)