Chilling Classics Cthursday: THE WITCHES MOUNTAIN (1972)

Gotta say, The Witches Mountain was one film in the ol' Mill Creek Entertainment 50 Movie Pack Chilling Classics 12-DVD Collection that I was really looking forward to seeing again. Yes, I say this despite the fact that back in 2010 I deemed it "...so, so bad. So bad. Bad. Bad movie." In recent times I'd felt in my heart-place that the problem likely wasn't The Witches Mountain--not completely, anyway--but 2010 me. (Well, 2010 me and the atrocious picture quality standard flowing through the waters of the ol' Mill Creek.) Bits of it that couldn't possibly be bad lingered in my memory, such as the knife-on-wig violence of the film's opening moments, and the leading man's incredible moustache. But more, it's that I know 2010 me rarely appreciated a weird Euro sleaze-adjacent movie that's all about vibes. But 2026 me is so much more cultured, you know? My capacity for continental delights is no longer limited to heat lamp eggs and a corn muffin at the Hampton Inn! Vibes are my vibe!

So, armed with the Mondo Macabro blu-ray edition of The Witches Mountain, I settled in and prepared myself to be sail away into a pure mood (cue the "Orinoco Flow"). 

Knowing in advance that this is a vibes flick helped immensely, as did...you know, being able to actually see (mostly, anyway) what was going on thanks to the power of high definition. All of this made the story, such as it is, a bit more scrutable: To avoid his recent ex-girlfriend, photographer Mario (Cihangir Ghaffari) and his moustache accept an assignment that will take them deep into the Pyrenees. Soon Mario has a meet-creep when he takes photographs of an unaware sunbathing beauty named Delia (Patty Shepard of the 1988 gross-out funfest Slugs). In true 1972 fashion, Delia agrees to accompany Mario for the rest of his adventure. Such is the power of the 'stache!

The pari quickly runs afoul of all kinds of weird happenings, including but not limited to:

-- fog that comes and goes

-- Mario's car getting stolen

-- Victor Israel (from FG fave Horror muthafucking Express!) as a sinister-seeming innkeeper

-- hooded figures spying on Delia in particular

-- a caveman dream...?

-- an old woman who sure seems like a witch living alone in an abandoned village on the mountain

-- creepy goat herders that come and go

Eventually they find the place in the woods where the witches get together and do witch stuff. If you've seen The Witch or Suspiria you know what I'm talking about: They are dancing and singing and holding induction ceremonies! 

Thanks to that there high-definition, I now know the fate of all the characters. I know that Mario's ex is in the witch gang. I know that they had their designs on Delia. And I know that Mario will be shackled in the caveman cave, presumably to be the coven's boy toy.Yes, it's true, thanks to the lousy Mill Creek transfer I was clueless for pretty much all of that back in 2010. No wonder I thought it was bad!

Truthfully, even in 2026 I wouldn't say it's great. The early scenes where we see the aforementioned knife-on-wig violence and Mario's ex sets a child on fire (to be fair, the child killed her cat and then was shit-talking like "You suck and your cat sucked!" so...okay, I'm not exactly saying the child deserved it but I'm also not not saying it!) remain absolutely batshit and baller, but they're also kinda just glommed on to things and don't fit with the rest of The Witches Mountain. I also found that I wanted more vibes from the film--more surreality, maybe, or more eerie atmosphere. The landscape does a lot of the atmospheric heavy-lifting, and I think director Raúl Artigot could have done a lot more with everything that wasn't a pan across the Pyrenees. 

Unfortunately, my mind still wasn't blown by The Witches Mountain, even though I was hoping it would be. But hey, it's not a bad movie by any stretch! At least I get it now, unlike that total uncultured rube who wrote this blog back in 2010.

Chilling Classics Cthursday: THE LEGEND OF BIGFOOT (1975)

Ah, a new year. What a time! Saying goodbye to 2025 and its respective Chippendales wall calendar, saying hello to 2026 and its respective Chippendales wall calendar. It's a time for promises and hope (I know things are hellish out there, just go with it) as we refresh and reflect. I've been doing a lot of reflecting since the ol'...uh, ball dropped and during my reflectin' times I've had some major realizations. The first is that although my brain had me thinking the contrary, I have not, in fact, finished up my Chilling Classics Cthursday journey through the Mill Creek Entertainment 50 Movie Pack Chilling Classics 12-DVD Collection. Somewhere, someway, somehow, I'd crossed it off the to-do list of my mind. Should I be concerned I'd given it the signed-sealed-delivered-up yours! treatment when the finish line is actually still around 13 films away? It's possible. Likely, even! But hey, I can't be held accountable for lapses like that. It's hellish out there, in case you didn't know. 

My second realization is this: Today is Friday! But you know what, who cares? Do "days" and "time" even matter anymore? I would argue NO they do not, and I'm not just saying that as some weird way to cover up the fact that I am posting a Cthursday post on a Cfriday. Besides, when you take into account Realization #1, this post going out on the wrong day makes total sense. It's a theme, okay.

On the bright side of these Memento moments: hey, Chilling Classics Cthursday is back, hooray! And I'm kicking off my grand return with a little curio called The Legend of Bigfoot (1975), which brings me to my next major realization: 

I think I love Bigfoot?

Honestly, it might not be strictly true, but I can't deny the facts, which are as follows:

-- I've been to the International Cryptozoology Museum on more than one occasion! There I was absolutely delighted by exhibits like...someone's painting of a Bigfoot, or a glass case with a hairball in it and a little placard saying, like, "Bigfoot fur?"

-- I think about that scene in the 1980 film Night of the Demon where the Bigfoot grabs two Girl Scouts by the arms and makes them stab each other to death rather often

-- I watched some documentary a couple of years ago about a Bigfoot maybe committing some murders...? Look I don't remember the name of it but it was good 

-- I finally saw Willow Creek! As a found footage aficionado I was prone to like it and I sure did, especially the scene that seems to be the most divisive: The long sequence in the tent where we just listen to stuff maybe happening outside of the tent. It was intense and a terrific example of how found footage's ability to put the viewer in the midst of the action (or in this case, the anticipation of the action)

-- When RNGesus chose The Legend of Bigfoot for this week's movie, I thought "oh neat" or something along those lines 

So you see, Your Honor, while I never really thought about it all that much, the evidence strongly points to the incontrovertible truth that I love Bigfoot. Again I say: What a time!

As a certified Bigfoot lover (not in a weird way), how did The Legend of Bigfoot stack up? Well, first of all, let's make sure we're talking about the right movie here. Please do not confuse The Legend of Bigfoot with any of these other films:

• The Bigfoot Legend...Lives
• Bigfoot: Beyond the Legend
• Beyond the Legend: Bigfoot Gone Wild
• Bigfoot: The Legend is Real
• On the Trail of Bigfoot the Legend
• Bigfoot: Still Tracking a Legend
• The Legend of Billie Jean

Now that we've established that...The Legend of Bigfoot is a...documentary? Hmm, can a film be a documentary if the approach is straight-up sincere but the subject matter is less so? It's not a mockumentary, but is it then a pseudo-documentary? Is the taxonomy dictated by the proven scientific veracity of the topic? Hold on while I take another huge bong rip and think about it.

Let's just call it a cryptodocumentary for anti-simplicity's sake. In this cryptodocumentary, a wildlife tracker named Ivan Marx finds some big-ass footprints and a ball of unidentifiable hair (gross) and decides to put his skills to the test to search for Bigfoot. 

Marx and his wife Peg hit the road in their red VW Bug and travel all up and down the west coast chasing leads, listening to tales from hunters, "Eskimos," and "Indians" (it was the time, okay), and trying to capture irrefutable evidence that ol' Sassy exists. Yes, somehow the scientific community didn't just give Marx an "oh dip, I guess Bigfoot is real!" when presented with the hairball and plaster casts of the footprints. The nerve! And these same people think I should be vaccinated?? Please. 

Looks super real to me for sure! Science is the worst.

Marx nabs some genuine, bonafide Bigfoot footage in Washington--footage that the scientific community once again refuses to verify. Jerks.

Marx draws Xes and circles on a map that correspond to sightings and stories, and the patterns lead him to conclude that Bigfoot is a migratory creature, and our intrepid couple takes off in pursuit. They travel from the desert to the Redwood forest to the tundra. They hit Oregon, Wyoming, Alaska, and head all the way up into the Arctic Circle. 

Things get trippy at times as Marx temporarily abandons his scientific methods in lieu of a more folklore approach to finding the elusive cryptid; after an aurora light show (the screen kind of oscillates between white and red...?) Marx gets a hot tip from a phantom white raven that eventually leads to a long-distance nocturnal encounter with Bigfoot's bright, shining eyes. They are definitely not headlights!! Nor are they superimposed!! They are Bigfoot eyes. Sadly, Marx is unable to get a better look because come morning, the Bigfoot eyes have "disappeared behind a rainbow."

This causes Marx to wail (à la James Brolin-as-George Lutz) "I feel like I was coming apart at the seams!" and get back to his tracking roots...and man, there is a huge payoff! We are eventually treated to so much Bigfoot footage it's nuts. With extended sequences of a Bigfoot and a juvenile Bigfoot eating grass and kind of splashing in some water, Marx totally dunks on the brief Patterson-Gimlin footage. And believe me (yes, I'm talking to you, science) this is definitely a Bigfoot and a juvenile Bigfoot. It is not a man and his wife in costumes! Sure, the Bigfoot seems more regular-man-sized and not the 8-foot-tall, 500-pound beast that leaves 18-inch footprints as Marx describes. That's just a...uh...a trick of the film. Everyone knows that the camera subtracts 350 pounds and a few feet!

Yeah those vaguely humanoid-shaped black blobs are the Bigfoots. The transfer is pretty terrible ("In the Mill Creek Entertainment 50 Movie Pack Chilling Classics 12-DVD Collection?" you shriek. "Say it ain't so!"), reminiscent of the atrocious AI upscaling of Roseanne that's currently on Peacock, wherein no text is legible, background elements are frequently but smears, and elements occasionally look superimposed. And don't even get me started on the extreme cuts and editing! Two minutes have been excised from each episode, which is a-fucking-lot considering the episodes are only 22 minutes to begin with. Jokes are gone, characters are magically transported from one room to another, conversations end mid-conversation, and there are jarring close-ups and framing. Haven't I suffered enough over the years as a Roseanne fan? Does Grok have to take this, too??

Anyway, while it reminds me of that AI upscaling, for the most part the blobby blurring of imagery actually works to The Legend of Bigfoot's benefit as the fakery comes off as less fake if you can't, you know, make out any details. Not that this stuff is fake of course!

The majority of this film--the entirety of which is narrated in voiceover by Marx himself--is nature footage. Some of it is distressing and I'm thankful for that blobby blurring: Goats committing ritual suicide, an injured squirrel limping along, a squirrel mourning its dead mate, animals hunting other animals, the scene of a caribou slaughter by human hunters. None of it is explicitly graphic, but that doesn't make it any less impactful. At other times, the blobby blurring is a bummer because the footage would probably be terrific under more highly-defined circumstances. I want to see the majesty of the massive and metal AF antlers on the caribou and the moose!

"Curio" is indeed the right word for The Legend of Bigfoot. It's an entirely self-serious endeavor composed of equal parts Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, the Tippi Hedren film Roar, and found footage sometimes-almost-but-not-horror. It's as much about Marx and his journey as it is about Bigfoot itself, as his tale weaves in and out of science and folklore and touches on 70s newly-hot topics like environmental awareness, colonialism, and violence against indigenous people. At times, this results in the sense that the entire affair is a little padded on occasion, but there is all that big, beautiful, blurry, blobby Bigfoot footage at the end. Footage, I might add, that the scientific community still refuses to verify! As a certified Bigfoot lover (not in a weird way), I find this completely unacceptable and just more evidence that science has never done anything good more me. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to finish this big glass of room temperature raw milk and watch Roseanne! Season 10 I mean!

Crazy trips, must be 2026!

Boy oh boy, you’d think that it’d be some kind of prerequisite to see every notable vintage slasher movie that centers around a specific date or holiday—you know, the most stereotypical kind of slasher movie—if, say, one wanted to start a blog about slasher movies or write/draw a comic about slasher movies or go around telling everyone they encounter about how much they love slasher movies. YOU’D THINK THAT, RIGHT.

Well, you wouldn’t be wrong to think that, but of course thinking that would not take into account my fast-paced and cutting-edge busy lifestyle, planetary/solar alignments over the years, a woman’s prerogative, etc. 

Yes, that’s right, I was referencing myself, specifically about how I only just saw the 1980 slasher film New Year’s Evil in the last 24 hours even though 1) it came out 45 years ago, 2) Final Girl came out 20 years ago, 3) I came out (of my mom)…hmm I’m not exactly sure when, to tell you the truth, because I was mummified in 2009 and I don’t really know how mummy years work. The point is, New Year’s Evil is so basic it's like Slashers 101, and yet I made a comic literally called Slashers 101 without having seen it! This despite the fact that it’s the only slasher movie that stars Roz “Pinky Tuscadero” Kelly...as far as I know. See? "As far as I know"? Man, where do I get off even having this blog!

(PS, yes, Leather Tuscadero was always way cooler but I will take any Tuscadero I can get, especially in a horror movie!)

On the bright side, I’ve now seen New Year’s Evil. On the less bright side, it was only okay. On the even less bright side, it was only okay sometimes. 

It started so promising, too, when the words “Cannon Group” and “Golan/Globus” appeared. If you are anything like me, all of that will get you pumped over the possibilities for action and horror and, though it’s admittedly a long shot, Lucinda Dickey with a can of V8 (where are my Ninja III: The Domination homies at!). I continued to be pumped as the movie began and there was Roz “Pinky Tuscadero” Kelly as Diane “Dee” Sullivan, aka “Blaze,” a DJ/proto-VJ with magenta eyebrows and magenta blush so thick it looked like a couple of magenta Colorforms slapped on her cheeks. Yes, I was immediately drowning in a wave of New Wave: Blaze with her magenta madness, men with black lipstick, women with pink bangs, studded bracelets and chokers everywhere—New Year’s Evil was looking to be the New Wave big sister slasher counterpart to the Eurotrash New Wave gross-out Demons and the naked Trash (get it) New Wave zombie delight Return of the Living Dead. I clutched New Year’s Evil to my magenta bosoms (don’t ask) and told it that while it took us forever to find one another it didn’t matter because our forever was only just beginning.

In case you didn’t know, Blaze is so hot and so cool she was dubbed “The First Lady of Rock” and as such, her duties included rocking in the new year with a live edition of her show Hollywood Hotline in a Los Angeles hotel. She is very busy and important (much like me!) and therefore she has no choice but to kind of ignore her son Derek, who wants to tell her about a part he just won on a television series. Derek is pretty strange, to be honest. And oh, it seems that his father (and Blaze’s husband), who has been “sick” and is supposed to be in Palm Springs, can’t be reached. HMM. 

We are then treated to the musical stylings of a group called Shadow. We will also be treated to the musical stylings of a group called Made in Japan. We will be treated to both musical stylings often, and some songs will repeat repeatedly. What initially seems like a somewhat unique gimmick that renders New Year’s Evil into a quasi-concert film will likely wear on you as you wait for some slasher in your slasher.

Behind her on the stage there are a few seated ladies answering telephones, like some younger, hipper version of a Jerry Lewis telethon wherein viewers can call in and…uh…say stuff, like what they think the #1 song of the year will be. A few moments into the show, Blaze answers a call from someone who goes by the name “Evil” because he’s…you know, evil. He says he’s going to kill someone that Blaze knows whenever midnight hits in all the time zones across America—and the new year is about to ring in for folks on the east coast, oh no!

I would be remiss were I not to mention that Evil uses a voice changer that is so ludicrous I can’t tell whether or not it’s supposed to be funny. Whatever the intent, Evil and the dude from Fulci’s New York Ripper should have teamed up. And yes, I kind of wish I were talking about this on Final Girl After Dark rather than writing about it on Final Girl because I would love to imitate Evil’s phone voice for you.

So in quick order we meet Evil in person, and he looks like a Dollar Tree Jeffrey Combs. He poses as a doctor so that—in a shocking twist of typical horror movie events—he can break into a sanitarium. There he meets a nurse who looks like a Dollar Tree Lisa Kudrow. They find a quiet room, decide to Do It, and then when things get hot and heavy, Evil busts out a switchblade and kills Dollar Tree Lisa Kudrow. He records the murder, and when midnight strikes he plays the tape over the phone for Blaze; he’s all (Evil voice) “See? I told you!” and promises to call with another murder update in an hour.

The police initially dismiss Blaze’s concerns, but when the body of Dollar Tree Lisa Kudrow is found, they decide to let no one else into or out of the hotel. You know, for safety. Meanwhile, Evil digs deeper into his bag of costumes and dons a fake moustache. It makes him look like a Dollar Tree Tom Sandoval, which is really saying something (where are my Vanderpump Rules homies at!). He picks up some girls in a bar, there’s a chase, some switchblade poppin’, some murder, he puts on a priest costume, cure more musical performances.

Derek, meanwhile, has been alone in his hotel room downing pills for his “headaches” (though the actor doesn’t actually swallow said pills and you can see them in his mouth which kind of ruins the movie magic illusion) and getting weird with fabrics and hat pins.

Evil makes his way to the hotel and surprise as completely expected from the moment he is mentioned, he is the killer. Why? What could possibly drive a man to murder, to torment his wife and eventually try to kill her? Well you see, he broke into that sanitarium because he used to be a patient there…but also simply because he hates women! Especially his wife, who has emasculated both Evil and his son Evil Jr Derek! “You castrated me,” says Evil, “And that is not nice.”

Again, I am not sure whether or not New Year’s Evil is meant to be funny…? 

What I am sure of, however, is that this film gets occasionally weird but steadfastly refuses to lean all the way into it, which is a big shame. It leaves people like me a-wonderin’ in a puzzled way when I should be a-wonderin’ in an awestruck way, you know? The slasher bits aren’t compelling—it’s tough to make a “regular guy” an interesting killer in this genre, as made evident by films like The Slumber Party Massacre, The Dorm That Dripped Blood, and He Knows You’re Alone. I’m not saying you have to have a mask, but if you don’t wear one I think you need to go full wackadoodle, like Billy in Black Christmas. I love a bag o' costumes and a fake moustache as much as the next lady, but Evil was way creepier in the few moments when he sported a grotesque Stan Laurel mask.

New Year’s Evil is full of bits-n-bobs that may have been marginally refreshing in 1980, but they’re so rote nowadays that it’s tough to get excited. A killer who spent time in a mental hospital? A killer who hates women? A survivor not finding safety in an ambulance? Honk shoo honk shoo! (That’s a snoring sound, by the way.) There were no shocks, no scares, no surprises, no suspense. Not even any interesting kills to jazz the place up.

Maybe it would have dazzled me if I’d seen it decades ago, who knows. In its opening moments, with all the magenta and studded accoutrements everywhere, I did think that I probably would have loved this movie if I’d brought it home from the video store or seen it at a sleepover or something. But alas, alack, those days are gone and New Year’s Evil is really just something that I’ve seen, if you know what I mean. (“It’s about time, poser!” — you, probably)

a few things!

While I won't be able to return to regular posting 'round here until next month, there are a few things that will maybe tide you over until then! Or at least this post about those few things will occupy you for the next ~14 seconds, which is better than zero seconds. Well, I guess that depends on what's actually happening during those seconds, no? I can think of a few things that would be a terrible way to spend even such a small amount of time, like, say, watching ~14 seconds of one of those David Gordon Green Halloween movies. Unless they were ~14 seconds that feature em-bang-ened hero Lindsey Wallace, as portrayed by icon/Real Housewife Kyle Richards, of course.

Sorry, I've had more coffee today than I really realized whilst drinking it all, so now I'm going on and taking up more than ~14 seconds of your time! Also, obviously, using both "icon" and "Real Housewife" to describe a woman is redundant. But...on to the things!

THING 1:

I wrote an essay that's included with the recent fancy Blu-ray release of Asian horror anthologies Three and Three...Extremes from Arrow Video. In it, I examine what the loaded term "extreme" means in relation to Asian horror, as well as the ways the represented regions of Three (South Korea, Thailand, and Hong Kong) differ in their approaches to horror filmmaking and the supernatural.

THING 2:

Also from Arrow come a new, fancy Blu-ray release of Wes Craven's 1986 film Deadly Friend, and I'm on the commentary track alongside Alex West of The Faculty of Horror, The 1990s Teen Horror Cycle, and mucho more. This might be a UK-only release? Someone start a change.org petition if so! (btw I loooove the alternative cover art so much.)

THINGS 3 & 4:

Of course these are the two ongoing things, my column (and assorted other work) in Rue Morgue magazine and my podcast Final Girl After Dark. Both of these things get me pumped UP! So I hope you enjoy them as well, should you partake.

Hahaha remember those Halloween movies! Terrible.

pressing pause

Hi everyone! Just a heads up, there are family matters I need to attend to (yes, that rascally Urkel has done it again!) that necessitate my pressing pause on SHOCKtober here at the blog and on the podcast for the immediate future. Very sorry and hope to be back here (and at the pod) before too long. Thanks for understanding.

***ETA 10/22: Sorry to say I'm still not back to a regular schedule. I gave a wee update on things over at Final Girl After Dark (listen at the link or wherever you getcher podcasts). As I said there, it's safe to say that SHOCKtober is a bust both here and on the pod; I may push the Final Girl content into BLOODvember, barring any more unforeseen circumstances. At any rate, I appreciate all the thoughtful comments and messages--as always, you guys are the best!

****ETA 11/18:Once again I am thanking you for your messages and comments during the HECK of the last few weeks...months? However long it's been. Well, at least the podcast has returned! For the moment at least! The blog will return to regular posting in December, barring any other disasters, etc. OOOH what if I did DISASTICEMBER

Day 3: AMERICAN GOTHIC (1987)

By 1987, the slasher movie heyday was dunzo and the subgenre was on its last legs--legs that would prove weirder and often more interesting than the formulaic flicks that put the glory in the glory days. Case in point: American Gothic, a wacked-out joyride that's got a real heart of darkness beneath its gingham...uh, finery. 

Cynthia (Sarah Torgov) is released from the mental hospital where she'd been treated for a breakdown caused by the accidental drowning of her baby. Her husband Jeff (Mark Erickson) is understanding and happy to have his wife back, telling her they'll have more kids and it wasn't her fault. Now look, I don't think making her feel any guiltier than she already does is the best thing for her, of course, but Cynthia left the baby unattended in the tub so it pretty much is her fault...? I am just saying.

The couple decides a little vacay is in order, so they hop in Jeff's seaplane along with two other couples. The plane soon starts a-sputterin' and a-smokin', forcing the group to land on an island that seems to be deserted. But when they go exploring, they discover that it ain't. They find a house that seems to be frozen in time, with clothing and records and decor straight outta the 1920s. The group makes themselves right at home, cranking the tunes, wearing the clothes, and Charleston-ing it up. The owners return and let me tell you, they aren't nearly as put out as I would be if I came home and found a group of strangers wearing my wigs and muumuus and listening to my Chuck Mangione records! But I guess the down-home duo of Ma (Yvonne De Carlo) and Pa (Rod Steiger) are better people than I. (Hmm, being so taken aback by their chill attitudes and Jeff's exceedingly forgiving nature, I guess I am learning a thing or two about myself. But don't worry, whatever I learn won't stick!) While Pa is a taciturn scripture-spewing buzzkill, Ma is quite genial, excited to have some new "kids" to join the Clean Plate Club at the dinner table.

Not that she doesn't have kids of her own, mind you: There's Fanny (Janet Wright), Woody (weirdo horror movie mainstay Michael J. Pollard), and Teddy (William 'Jek Porkins' Hootkins), all of whom are clearly decades older than they act or claim to be. Pa promises that help should be coming to the island soon but it's doubtful that the gang of stranded folks will survive in the company of this wackadoodle family. I mean, it's a slasher movie, after all.

In my review of this film during the inaugural SHOCKtober, I mentioned that it was a video store shelf staple but I'd never seen it and rarely heard mention of it. Twenty years later, it seems that American Gothic still has yet to find its audience, which surprises me because it's fucking weird and it's fucking fun. These religious isolationists are your classic kind of horror movie nutso family, à la the Wrong Turn gang, Leatherface's brood, the Firefly clan, and so on and so on. Those are all well and good but none of them feature Yvonne De Carlo now, do they? They do not, and it's a shame because she's having a grand ol' time here, gleefully delivering aphorisms, whipped potatoes, and a kindly menace. Rod Steiger occasionally seems to wonder what movie he's in, but delivers his Big Acting Moments with gusto (again, perhaps unaware of what movie he's in).

Director John Hough has a filmography that's a series of random peaks and valleys, ranging from the likes of The Legend of Hell House to The Watcher in the Woods to Howling IV: The Original Nightmare. While the material is often pitch black (drowning babies, mummified babies, incest, necrophilia), Hough keeps it as light as possible, leaving details and specifics off-screen and in our imaginations. I wonder if this and the general lack of explicit violence are what have kept American Gothic in the realm of the unknown and/or underseen? Hmm. Keeping the uncomfortable in the realm of implication and the killings largely off-screen aren't marks against it for me: The uncomfortable is still hella uncomfortable even if you don't see things play out, you know? And ultimately the whole thing is on the bleaker side of bonkers--exactly what I'm looking for in a late 80s slasher. Who knows, maybe other folks'll join The Clean Plate Club of Loving American Gothic some day yet!

Day 2: PHONE (2002)

Back in 2005, Phone was one of a slew of East Asian films to hit the Western market thanks to Tartan Asia Extreme DVD. While some were lauded and deemed instant classics, such as A Tale of Two Sisters, The Eye, and Ringu, many more were (fairly or not) relegated to the "eh, it's more of the same stuff" pile and left there--and unlike their more famous brethren, most have yet to earn a home release since that Tartan DVD.

I was quite taken with Phone way back in 2005, so much so that I didn't really get into specifics about it--rather, I just told folks to go watch it. While last night was the first time I watched it since that lofty "review," I'd certainly thought about it from time to time, though all I really thought about (or even remembered) was the performance of young Eun Seo-woo as Yeong-ju, a girl who gets possessed. I couldn't remember why she got possessed, or by whom or what. The circumstances, the plot, all of it washed away by time! But her acting--by turns adorable, terrified, and terrifying--remained in my brain place. And while I was taken with the entire film (I see why I recommended it in The Olde Days), Eun Seo-woo's performance is still the highlight. She's just straight-up terrific and gives some of the most delightful stank faces I've ever seen.

Thanks to the work of intrepid reporter (be still my heart!) Ji-won (Ha Ji-won), several men are charged and arrested for sex crimes involving underage girls. Soon after she receives a series of incresaingly threatening phone calls and stalking incidents, prompting her to relocate for a while to a house owned by childhood friend Ho-jeong (Kim Yu-mi) and her husband Chang-hoon (Choi Woo-jae). One evening, Ji-won's laptop goes all The Matrix-looking and a phone number appears on the screen. Ji-won starts receiving indecipherable calls and text messages from the same number. Whilst unattended, Ho-jeong's daughter Yeong-ju answers one of these calls to Ji-won's phone and begins acting very strangely--she also seems to harbor an obsessive (and way beyond inappropriate) attachment to her father Chang-hoon. 

Plot threads and time tangle and disentangle as we learn the story of the voice on the other end of the cell phone and the victims who have come before while the fates of Ji-won and her dear ones lie in the balance. There are ghostly presences, disturbing imagery, and some genuinely chilling sequences throughout a narrative that twists and turns and then twists and turns some more; As mysteries get solved and questions get answered, Phone might rely a bit too much on flashbacks to fill us in, but this is a fairly standard structure for Asian horror--particularly Korean horror--and I don't mind it a whit. As also expected from a K-horror feature, there's some high melodrama and a lot of melancholy tied to a kind of depressing inevitability to events. I ain't complainin'!

I ain't complainin' about none of it, in fact. Phone looks fantastic, with more intriguing visuals and color palettes at play than many of its (often kinda cheap-looking) DV-era contemporaries. Blessedly there's only one or two decidedly 2002 CGI shots, and they're not ghost-related. 

It's no surprise that director/co-writer Ahn Byeong-ki (Apt, Nightmare, and the Bunshinsaba series) cites Hideo Nakata's Ringu as an influence for Phone, particularly during the film's climactic sequence--and honestly, the ghost's big moment is a pretty worthy successor to Sadako emerging from the television if you ask me. And speaking of that ghost, oooh it is angry and vengeful! Not only against the ones who did it wrong, but against...kind of anyone, really, including the poor, random souls who happened upon the cell phone by happenstance. 

Phone doesn't dive as deep into the realm of "hey, what's up with this new technology and should we be afraid of it...?" as films like Pulse (aka Kairo) and One Missed Call do--here, the phone feels more akin to a Ouija board or a séance or that kind of horror movie trope of yore. But still, the cell phone was still a fairly new commonplace technology at the time, and it's fun to watch the ways Ahn uses it to inflict terror on his characters.

So yeah man, this one still holds up--not only thanks to the work of Eun Seo-woo, but because it's just some solid Korean horror, you know? Sometimes that's the only thing that hits just right, and hit just right it did. Here's hoping it eventually enters the modern media age and gets some love (beyond me posting about it every 20 years).

Day 1: ALICE, SWEET ALICE (1976)

Not only is Alice, Sweet Alice the film that kicked off my first SHOCKtober event in 2005, it also figured into SHOCKtober 2019 when I reassessed it. Now here we are, meeting again during this highest of holy seasons. I ain't complainin'!

As I've mentioned time and again, when this blog started in 2005 my focus was slasher films. Every horror blog, it seemed, had a niche regarding subgenres or gimmicks and slashers were a bit underserved. I pounced because hey, the "Final Girl" slasher trope made for a mighty name title for a blog! But mostly it was because it was the subgenre I felt I knew best. I grew up part of a horror-loving family and slashers were the stuff of my youth; But unlike Hammer films or haunted house movies or creature features or any of the other flicks I watched and loved, slashers felt like they were mine, perhaps owing to the fact that they were aimed at and featured characters who weren't adults yet. 

But as many as I'd seen, once I started Final Girl I realized how many more were waiting for me out there. Movies from before my time or more obscure titles that'd been unavailable to me or I'd missed on video store shelves. In those early days, when I wasn't writing posts or watching things I anticipated writing about, I spent most of my free time poring over reference books and a handful of dedicated websites in the hopes of finding some treasures...or, at least, films I'd never seen. Honestly, it was mostly books checked out from my local library, such as John Kenneth Muir's Horror Films of the 1970s and Adam Rockoff's Going to Pieces: The Rise and Fall of the Slasher Film. It was a different internet then--a dial-up one, at that--and there certainly wasn't so much content on it. Slashers were an old world for me, but also, I discovered, an entirely new one. How exciting it was to have so many movies waiting for me to discover!

The point is that this was how Alice, Sweet Alice came into my life as something I simply had to see. What luck, then, to pick up a VHS tape for $1.50 and finally get my eyeballs on it. I gave it an 8/10--8 out of 10 catholic nutjobs, to be more precise--back in 2005 (I was rating things then, what folly), but regardless I think I found it a little disappointing because it wasn't solely the slasher film I was expecting. It's not fair to judge a film by one's expectations of it, of course, and I do think the killer's translucent mask/St Michael's Church-branded rain slicker creeped me out enough to make up for its other perceived "shortcomings."

In 2019, I'd upgraded from that $1.50 VHS tape to a caseless $0.50 DVD copy and, knowing what to expect (or not to expect) of Alice, Sweet Alice, I appreciated it much more than I did the first time, even if there was no number rating to prove my feelings. In that review, I wrote:

Alice, Sweet Alice is a deeply unpleasant film, and I'm not necessarily referring to the violence, which occurs fairly seldomly. Of course, when kill scenes do arrive, they are shocking and brutal for sure. It's more the atmosphere of the whole thing–it's all drenched in decrepitude and sleaze, and everyone is so damn loud all the time, yelling at one another and clomping up and down the stairs of the small apartment building where Alice lives with her mother (and sister, before her death).

It's a very crass and nasty kind of film in many ways--often, that's the point of it--and to be honest I think the 108 minute version on the DVD is perhaps a titch too long and the 98-minute VHS cut might be preferable. (No, I still haven't upgraded to the Blu-ray...given my history with this film, I suppose I'm waiting to find it for under $2.) Maybe I've just seen it too many times now?

Regardless, in the trashfire that is 2025 it feels more relevant than ever. The film points to the dissolution of American institutions we have always held up as aspirational, as protectors and safe havens...or more likely, it points to the fact that those institutions have always been rotten. "We're not even safe in the church!" a character laments after young Karen is brutally murdered during a Communion ceremony. Many have never been safe in the church, be they victims of abuse or sexual minorities or believers in another religion. The police in this movie are reprehensible, from the nudie pics plastered all over the walls of the detective bureau to lewdly commenting on 12-year-old Alice's body and suggesting she wants a cop to "feel her up." In the Kennedy era, when the film takes place, this rot was only known by a few--obviously, a gay man like Alice, Sweet Alice writer/director Alfred Sole was amongst those few. Now in 2025, the rot and hypocrisy are impossible to ignore.

She is nigh!

You know who I'm talking about, Willis! That's right, I'm talking about Miss SHOCKtobra herself, uh...SHOCKtober. I can't believe she is nigh and getting nigher by the moment. If you listen to my podcast Final Girl After Dark, then mayhaps you heard me announce my plans for this year already. If you don't listen to my podcast, well don't worry, I'm going to tell you my plans for this year in this post. Also if you don't listen to my podcast, I will assume you do not have ears because why else wouldn't you listen! Podcasts are all the cool rage this year, and I know you like to partake in cool rage activities (and, come Thanksgiving time, Blood Rage activities of course). 

I will have you know that I took some time mulling over whether or not to have another go at my super big mega countdown list of y'allses favorite horror movies. "It's been a couple of years since I did that," I thought, and then I actually checked and it turns out I did it last year. It felt so long ago and I was so floored that it'd only been a year! I went full slapping my cheeks Home Alone-style when I saw that it was the 2024 celebration. Honestly, I am kind of still slapping my cheeks Home Alone-style over that revelation; I am not sure if my not knowing it'd only been a year points to my brain beginning to fail me, or that time has been seriously fucked since 2020 (or 2000) or what, but regardless...YIKES.

So what to do then? Well, as 2025 is indeed a big year 'round these parts, seeing as it's the 20th anniversary of this blog and all, I thought it might be fun to go back to where the annual Miss SHOCKtobra Pageant began: the very first SHOCKtober of 2005. I watched and reviewed a movie every day during October 2005, and this year I'm going to be watching and reviewing all those same films again. (There are exceptions, which I'll get to in a moment!) Some of them I literally have not seen or even thought much about since I watched them in 2005. Others have become favorites, or simply movies I've seen a few times over the past 20 years. Here is the list, in case you want to watch along:

1. Alice, Sweet Alice (1976)
2. Phone (2002)
3. American Gothic (1987)
4. He Knows You're Alone (1980)
5. Body Bags (1993)
6. The Brood (1979)
7. Toolbox Murders (2004)
8. Dead & Buried (1981)
9. Graduation Day (1981)
10. Opera (1987)
11. The House on Sorority Row (1982)
12. The Sentinel (1977)
13. Stepfather II: Make Room for Daddy (1989)
14. Fade to Black (1980)
15. On this day in 2005 I did a marathon of the Friday the 13th franchise...I am not sure yet what I'll be doing on this day this year, but I can tell you I will not be doing a marathon of the Friday the 13th franchise!
16. The Ring Two (2005)
17. Of Unknown Origin (1983)
18. The Boogey Man (1980)
19. Raw Meat (aka Death Line) (1972)
20. Night School (1981)
21. The Prowler (1981)
22. The Final Terror (1983)
23. Girls Nite Out (1982)
24. Hide and Go Shriek (1988)
25. Frightmare (1974)
26. Night of the Living Dead (1990)
27. Pumpkinhead (1988)
28. On this day I watched a very bad movie called Miner's Massacre (it had Karen Black in it, okay!!) but that movie doesn't seem to be readily available anymore and I'm not about to go searching too hard or spending any money on a copy. I think we will all be okay without a revisit to Miner's Massacre! In its place, I've asked Final Mom to choose the movie I review. I don't know what that is yet, but I'm willing to bet it will be better than Miner's Massacre! (Sorry to all the Miner's Massacre fans out there.) (And to Karen Black.) (RIP.) (You know what, I bet she would agree with my stance re: Miner's Massacre.)
29. On this day in 2005 I did a marathon of the Halloween franchise...I am not sure yet what I'll be doing on this day this year, but I can tell you I will not be doing a marathon of the Halloween franchise!
30. Demons (1985)
31. Alone in the Dark (1982)

So there you have it! What a month, eh? Ah, I remember how pumped I was all those years ago as I geared up for this. I bought a bunch of random shitty VHS tapes of stuff, lined up my Netflix DVD queue, and made several trips to the video store. What a different time it was! Watching all the films pile up, ready to be watched--the majority of them for the first time--and say something about them on The Internet! It felt like such a monumental endeavor and it was honestly very exciting.

And I'm excited for this go-round. Just...the joy of talking about horror movies, you know? We could all use some of that, I think. Things are pretty dire out there and The Internet is really just an eternal Two Minutes Hate machine nowadays, so I'm really looking forward to lighting this place up like it's 2005 all over again. And of course there will also be new episodes of Final Girl After Dark every Wednesday--to celebrate SHOCKtober, I'll be talking about a horror movie starring a Real Housewife each week. Now That's What I Call Exciting, Volume Podcast!

Some of these movies I've talked about so many times in so many places (I'm looking at you, The Sentinel) that I'm honestly not sure how much I'll have to say about 'em when it's their turn to shine, but we'll see. I'm curious if my feelings will change one way or another about films I haven't seen since 2005 (I'm looking at you, Toolbox Murders) (And you, The Boogey Man.). I can't wait for Stepfather II and Of Unknown Origin! Also wow, the list is so slasher-heavy...but when I started this blog it was solely about slasher flicks so I guess it makes sense, doesn't it? Lawd, I can't believe I did two 24-hour franchise marathons amongst everything else. Again what a different time it was!

I said it all the way back in 2005 and I'll say it again now:

Lock your doors...bolt your windows...pull up your pants...it's time for...

SHOCKtober!

Hooray!

Ah can you believe it? Today is Final Girl's birthday, she is now 20 years old! Time sure does fly when you're writin' about horror movies. At some point I suppose I'll have to change the name of this place to Final Ma'am or Final Crone or what have you, but that's the future. This is the now, and in this here now she is still supple and sprightly. Effervescent!

Wow, rude as ever. Some things never change.

But some other things do. And in case you missed the post I made on "social" "media," let me hip you to a change: There is now a companion podcast to this here blog! It's called Final Girl After Dark, and it's available wherever you like to listen to podcasts. You can also listen at FinalGirlAfterDark.com. 

I gotta tell ya, I'm super excited. I hope that it feels like Final Girl, except you're listening instead of reading. We'll see! Once in a while I might have a guest, but mostly it'll be just me. Look for it in the "old woman with microphone" category of your local podcast directory. I posted a little introduction yesterday--well, "little" is relative. Usually those sorts of things are 1 or 2 minutes long but this one was 10, which should come as no surprise to anyone who has ever read this site. As we all know I can spend 600 words talking about whatever before I remotely get to some kind of a point or the name of the movie I mean to address. But you know what? That's power of the BLOG, baby, I won't be tied to some notion of "concise writing" or "staying on topic." 

So, it'll be like that. New episodes will be posted on Wednesdays, and the first full episode went up today. I'm celebrating the launch of the pod and FG's bday by talking about FEARDOTCOM (2002), which is certainly a choice.

Part of the celebration also takes place over at The Evolution of Horror's Patreon, wherein I chat with Mike Muncer about this blog and The Old Days and I answer a slew of questions from listeners. I had a good time, so I hope it's also a good time to listen to.

I probably should have come up with some grander way to mark this milestone, you know, a look back on my favorite posts or something, but honestly that Q&A filled up my Being Perceived Meter enough for a while. So I will just give a heartspacefelt THANK YOU for hanging out! It's truly flattering that anyone wants to read what I write (or hear what I have to say) about horror movies or anything else, and I know some of you have been around for close to--if not all of--these past 20 years. It blows my mind! And I'm really grateful. I know there are many things vying for our attention 24/7, so thanks for making time for the ol' FG.

Some stuff from lately!

Hello! Whilst I am enjoying yet another in a long string of cold and rainy days, I thought I would take to the wires to deliver some of the hottest stuff that's been on the radar lately here in stately Final Girl Manor.

First of all, let's get the promo out of the way:

We are on the HOME STRETCH over at The Detective and the Log Lady, the Twin Peaks podcast I'm doing with Mike Muncer of The Evolution of Horror. Can you believe it? Only a wee handful of episodes remaining in The Return and then some wrap-ups and then...I don't even want to think about "and then." Although I will not lie to you, The Return is often rather trying. It's on the upswing for sure, but also I don't want to get my hopes up about any of it. What a journey! Hear all about it at that link or, of course, wherever you get your podcasts.

In other podcastin' news, I recently made a return appearance on The Monday Afternoon Movie with the inimitable Sam Pancake. We dished on the 1970 made-for-TV film Ritual of Evil, starring Louis Jourdan and Anne Baxter, and the entire affair was a delight. Check it out at the link or, you know.

Now then, on to Franchises of the Heart! In which I ask: have you set a course for the Jason Universe? Pardon me, I mean the JASON UN1V3RSE?? 

Whatever that is. Apparently the lawsuit that I never really understood that blocked all sorts of new Friday the 13th things from happening has been settled, and so now all sorts of new Friday the 13th things will happen? The first of which is the launching of the JASON UN1V3RSE, which comprises one photo of a Greg Nicotero-designed Jason Voorhees. Is it actually a photo? Is it AI? I can't even tell anymore. Regardless, tell your eyes to BLAST OFF into the stars and take a peep:

I have seen many people lamenting his "regular dude" stature and bemoaning the lack of a "Kane Hodder" stature, but as a regular dude Jason enthusiast I think it's just fine. Nothing to really get excited about, nor anything to get all bent about. Call me when he moves!

Speaking of teaching an old slasher new tricks, there is another new Halloween iteration coming!!

Well, this is what I can only assume after noticing the pattern established by my handy "Halloweens per Pope" charts. I initially made this to reap some sweet sweet SEO rewards (don't ask me how I'll benefit or what that even means, really), but I thought of it too late and now Pope Fever seems to be dying down. However! I was shocked--SHOCKED--by these charts and at the risk of sounding like Laurie Strode of Arc or something, obviously it has been ordained by the great Haddonfield in the sky that a New Pope means a new era for Michael Myers. To wit:

HALLOWEENS PER POPE

SEE??! It's practically a guarantee. So at some point in the near future when everyone is arguing over the look of the new AI Michael Myers and saying "MORE Halloween? I thought David Gordon Green killed that shit off!", remember that you heard it here first.

Da Doo Meow Meow

Okay yes, I know that technically today should be Chilling Classics Cthursday but Your Honor, circumstances compelled me to move in a different direction. Those circumstances, you see, began with a text message from a pal asking if I'd seen a little 1991 made for TV horror movie called Strays. I had not--in fact, I wasn't even aware of its existence, lawd have mercy--but I was immediately sold on it and wantonly cast aside the movie I was about to watch, which was indeed a Chilling Classic. 

The fact that I was not all that enthusiastic about said Chilling Classic mattered little, such was the powers of the premise, poster, and (p)credits of Strays:

The premise: Feral cats want to fuck shit up! And hello, as I mentioned, it's made for TV. 

Then, there is the cast: Kathleen Quinlan (she's always terrif!), Timothy Busfield (my mom loved him on Trapper John, MD!), and Claudia Christian (she voices a shitton of characters in Skyrim!)

Then, there is the fact that it was written by 70s teen heartthrob pop star/Hardy Boy Shaun Cassidy. I know he's created and/or produced more television series than you could shake a feathered hairdo at, but still!

And finally the poster, which I guess is supposed to be terrifying but if a cat coming at me like that was the last thing I ever saw, I would die so happy.

To that tagline, I say: I sure hope so!

So you see, Your Honor, how could a Chilling Classic stand a chance against this sure-to-be titan of television cinema? I rest my case.

If I were the family in a made for TV horror film, I would definitely not move from the city to country in order to "get away from it all." This is the impetus in many of these movies and it never works out well for the family. After reiterating their hopes (and one spouse's doubts), they spend a day moving and settling in. Then it's a couple of weeks later, and stuff starts happening. Before you know it, the newly-transplanted family runs afoul of witches/Satanists/fertility cults/ghosts/robots/possessed floor lamps/bad children/whatever flavor of evil happens to permeate the bucolic locale. Then, a random handyperson/worker shows up and gets killed by the evil; This is either chalked up to an accident or the death isn't discovered until much later. Later, a tertiary character will be killed by the evil; This is a member of the extended family or a dear friend. Stuff comes to a head, the family makes it out alive. But they must abandon the property, and would likely be financially ruined for years to come. Yay!

It is practically a blueprint for these pictures and I love it. So I was not at all mad when Kathleen Quinlan, Timothy Busfield, and their little kid went chugging down a dirt road in their station wagon. Wife: Excited for the move, ready to get away from that big city living! Husband: Dubious!

Side note, the child was one of those rare child actors who was clearly not actually a child actor. I don't mean this in an Esther kind of way, but rather the kid was barely understandable and just kind of blurbed out her "lines." So it would be like:

Child: Brbbashmleh

Kathleen Quinlan: That's right, honey! It's a blue car.

The house looks so nice and the realtor, Kathleen Quinlan's sister Claudia Christian (I didn't learn any names okay!!) gives them a good deal because the previous owner died. Timothy Busfield is acting as her divorce attorney, so clearly this family likes to keep it (business) in the family.

What none of them seem to know, however, is that the previous owner died 1) by cat attack and 2) wearing a terrible wig. WE SHOULD ALL BE SO LUCKY.

So these things go as these things go. The people we expect to die, die. The people we know will live, live. As always, though, no matter how predictable it may be, it's about the journey--and Strays is a predictable journey! Filled with angry cats.

There is a lot of (absolutely delightful) nonsense involving water and trying to stop the cats with pillows. I don't want to spoil all this absolutely delightful nonsense because it's dumb fun to watch and if you want to watch it for yourself, it's all on the YouTube.

I would have been happy if this movie was ten hours long. It's literally just pissed off feral cats yelling and running and jumping and scratching, aka it was HEAVEN. Strays featured a lot of cat POV shots and also one of my favorite film conceits, which is actors flailing around holding a stuffed animal that's "attacking" them.

Side note, the leader of the cats really did look mean! And I will bet my life savings (almost $7) that the role was played by one (or more) of the cats who played Church in the original Pet Sematary, which released a couple of years earlier.

I wouldn't go near that cat but oh, how I'd want to.

What's that, Your Honor? I'm acquitted and being given the key to the city because of my decision to watch Strays instead of whatever it was that bubbled up from Mill Creek? I knew it! Brbbashmleh.

That's right, honey! If there's one thing we can always believe in, it's the fairness of the US justice system.