Chilling Classics Cthursday: THE DEMON (1981)

Whether it's because yes, I'm still in the grip of this grippe or whether it's because it is simply his nature, RNGesus did me a kindness this week by selecting The Demon, a South African slasher curio that stars 50-pack King Cameron Mitchell as a psychic ex-Marine. It is the pleasures of life such as this that will see me through this time of plague.

Dig a little and you'll see that The Demon has a plethora of dates attached to it: 1979, 1981, 1982, 1985...for simplicity's sake I'd call The Demon a relic from The Age of Macramé, but a few in situ pop culture cameos put its filming squarely in 1979: namely a marquee showing The Amityville Horror and disco dancers getting TF down to the Lipps Inc tune "Funkytown" (which, incidentally, still slaps). The rest is a matter of release dates and the such, and I leave those kinds of decisions up to the courts, thank you very much.

By the way, those disco dancers are getting TF down at a place called Boobs Disco and I don't know...things weren't perfect but surely society was a little better when your average white folk got TF down regularly, sublimating their troubles by stepping all over a light-up floor instead of all over the lives of everyone else? 

Anyway. A heavy-breathing, hulking maniac breaks into a suburban home, ties up the mother and puts a plastic bag over her head, then absconds with the teenage daughter. The mother survives, but when police have no leads on the daughter after two months, the parents do the only thing they can: they call for the services of retired Marine Colonel Bill Carson, psychic. 

Move over, Sylvia Browne

Carson humbly explains his ESP powers ("Sometimes I get feelings--vibes, as the kids would call them") and gets to work touching objects in the daughter's bedroom. He sketches a few of his related visions and the dad somehow decides they are a good enough lead to go searching for the maniac, whom Carson super helpfully describes as "less than a man, and more than a man."

Most movies would follow this main plotline that features their main star, but not The Demon! Writer/director Percival Rubens dedicates the bulk of the film to a B-plot concerning a teacher I christened 1979 Amy Poehler (Jennifer Holmes) and her cousin as they navigate their love lives while sort-of being stalked by our resident Less-n-More Than a Man. 

Yes indeed, The Demon likes to show off both its Black Christmas influences and its Halloween influences. I'm not really complaining.

Nor am I really complaining about that bulk of the film that many a viewer would likely call "boring." I'm not saying I'm not calling it that, necessarily, but I didn't hate it. In fact, I was rather curious to see how the two plotlines would converge.

Spoiler: they do not! The only thing linking them together is our resident Less-n-More Than a Man, who seems to choose his victims at random. Of course, the majority of his victims are women and his motivations seem to come down to "woman-hating." 

While this and the random excuses for nudity put The Demon squarely into the realm of typical slasher stuff, the film does manage to hide a few surprises up its billowy sleeves. Rubens wisely employs a restrained hand when it comes to showing our Less-n-More Than a Man, but unfortunately this is your standard Mill Creek Entertainment 50 Movie Pack Chilling Classics 12-DVD Collection transfer; The glimpses we do get of the killer are often too dark to really enjoy. It's a shame because he sports some bitchin' gloves that are like Giallo Freddy Krueger specials and I wanted to see 'em in action.

I don't think The Demon rises even to the level of Great Value Slasher, but its surprises and left turns and last ten minutes push it to the level of Hey Maybe Slasher Aficionados Should Check It Out. That's something, right? I mean, a psychic Cameron Mitchell! Boobs Disco! Not even the mighty Halloween can boast that stuff.

Day 8 - "Just because I drive a truck does not make me a truck driver."

Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later: I'm afraid today brings us my first "That's a no for me, dawg" of the month. Infinite apologies to the lone reader who cited Road Games (1981) as a favorite!

Going in, Road Games seemed like it would be a sure-fire winner and today I'd be here cyber-flagellating myself that I took so long to see it. It's from 1981! It's got Stacy Keach and Jamie Lee Curtis! It's Australian! It's directed by Richard Franklin, who blessed us with Psycho II! It's got that poster, which looks kind of sleazy but also kind of futuristic to me for some reason! "How could it go wrong?" I will sigh to myself for the remainder of my days (or at least until I'm finished writing this).

Pat Quid (Keach) is a truck driver who takes great pains to let everyone he meets that he's not a "truck driver." Unlike those crude rubes, he is a man of letters! He has a harmonica and a guitar! He has a dingo, not a dog, okay! He only hates women sometimes!

Late one evening, Quid loses the last available room at a truck stop motel to a man driving a green van and the hitchhiker the van man picked up. In a stylish sequence, we see the van man kill the hitchhiker as she enjoys a little nude guitaring. 

The next morning, Quid notices some weird behavior from the van man (why is he watching the garbage pickup from his window? why is Quid's dingo so interested in the garbage bags? what of the news reports about a serial killer stalking hitchhikers?) and puts it all together Rear Windshield Window-style: the van man done did some murder!

However, Quid doesn't much really care, he's just sort of curious. He's also got a trailer full of frozen, butchered hogs he's got to deliver to Perth, so he hits the road. And so begins his long journey through the Australian outback along shimmering highways and byways. Quid keeps seeing the same drivers on the road as they pass each other, and he also keeps spotting a myseterious hitchhiker, whom he finally stops to pick up. Why, it's Jamie Lee Curtis, playing just about the same role she played a year earlier in The Fog: she's a sardonic runaway with a maybe-shady past, far wiser than her teen years betray and looking for a little excitement, who gets wrapped up in a li'l mystery and falls for the much older moustachioed man who gives her a lift. This time though, she's classy, see: a diplomat's daughter who only hitchhikes in her Sunday's finest.

They spot the van man a few more times and kind of try to piece together what's going on. Quid, however, becomes the number one suspect in the murders. Is he after the van man? Is the van man after him? It all comes to a head in a climax featuring the world's slowest "chase"--like they are literally going 5-10 mph while Brian May's incessantly irritating score tries to make us think that something exciting is happening. Yes, I know Brian May is from Queen! No, I don't care! Besides, as someone pointed out in the comments, it's a different Brian May! I could delete my error but I'm going to leave it, because the awful Road Games score damaged my brain. It's endlessly grating no matter which Brian May composed it, and it will leave you feeling like a tiny fife and drum corps is using your eyeballs as snares.

This movie should work. In a few moments during its interminable runtime it does, when it gets its Duel or The Hitcher or its Joy Ride or its yes even the beginning of Jeepers Creepers on and we get a smidge of tension between Quid and the van man. But mostly, my goodness, the tone, like the score, is just off and Franklin can't decide if he's making a thriller or a comedy, or he simply wants to annoy the audience to death (why else would you choose to include five minutes of a car alarm going off in the background of a scene?). He plays a bit with the "sleep-deprived road madness" angle with a multitude of scenes of Quid talking to himself (or Boz, his canine companion), but ultimately they're only endurable thanks to Keach's innate charm. 

There's also a whole conversation to be had about an Australian director choosing to cast two American stars in the leading roles, have them never really discuss how they're Americans in Australia, and portray all the Australian characters as dumdums and/or sinister backcountry hayseeds. Keach and Curtis could be here simply to boost potential box office and international appeal, but there's also a noticeable stranger in a strange land angle that is there and is completely ignored. It only serves to add to the film's messiness.

Overall this one was a big bummer for me, but you know what? Who cares! There is a lid for every pot, as they say, and someone out there loves Road Games. To them, I pump my arm and say "honk honk" as I zoom on by, headed to whatever SHOCKtober brings me next.

BLOODvember Day 1: THE EVIL DEAD (1981)

Welcome one, welcome both of you to this first-ever BLOODvember celebration. I thought it might be...fun? Interesting? Something to do?...to spend the month talkin' 'bout some of the horror images I find to be indelible. Please note, the key phrase there is "I find"! Surely some of these will be stone cold classic shots, while others might simply be random images or moments that have stuck in my head like some kind of brain herpes. Aren't you already pumped for this month?? Do you feel like you have the power of 100 energy drinks and/or 100 Dr. Julie Parrishes of television's V coursing through your veins? I know I do! And at my age it's actually a bit dangerous, quite frankly.

On a recent episode of Gaylords of Darkness, Anthony and I talked about Sam Raimi's 1981 film The Evil Dead. I mean, talk about stone cold classics! This movie holds the fuck up. As I mentioned on the show, it's hard for me to be objective about it because it's so deeply ingrained in who I am as a horror fan thanks to watching it so many times in my young adulthood. But hot dang, it remains a startling unique, beyond clever, and terrifying little movie. Yeah, I said it: terrifying. I've seen it too many times to lose sleep over it or some such. But while there are some comedic moments (both intentional and otherwise), The Evil Dead is often called a comedy when in fact it's anything but...and the "Cheryl is possessed" reveal is perhaps its scariest moment.

You know the scene: Linda and Shelly are having fun with a deck of playing cards; Linda tries to guess the card that Shelly's holding and while she always guesses wrong, Shelly always tells her she's guessed correctly. It's funny and really sweet–a nice moment of character building in a film that severely lacks in that department. Behind them, Cheryl faces away, looking out a window. She begins to correctly name the cards Shelly is holding, faster and faster, until there's a big ol' discordant chord of music and she turns around, revealing that she's possessed. It's incredibly well-timed, perfectly shocking, and flat out spine-chilling. It's my favorite moment in a favorite movie.

She's been sitting there possessed the whole time! Yikes...how very unnerving. I guess you never know who around you might be possessed until you see their faces. Be careful out there, folks. One by one they will take you!

FEAR NO EVIL (1981)

...or, Satan is a Homo.

I've been jonesin' to see this one forever, thanks to fond memories of its yearbook exploded to heck box art and the fact that it hails from horror's finest year. Seriously, those two points were enough to sell me–I had no idea what the film was about (possession, maybe?) until I fired it up last night. That's right, I didn't even read the back of the box! As you know we (me) at Final Girl live life on the edge, always but especially during SHOCKtober, and what is more daring, on the edge, and, if I may say so, thrill-seeking than watching a movie that you don't know shit about? Nothing! Except maybe doing that whilst eating a hot pepper. I did not eat a hot pepper whilst watching it, but my adrenaline was pumping as if I did!

I tells ya, SHOCKtober is a time of thrills and enlightenment. Here it is, but Day 1, and already I have solved The Ancient Riddle of What is Fear No Evil About. Sorry, I know, that sounds like the worst, most disappointing Nancy Drew book of all time, a one-paragraph book where she just...reads the copy on the back of the Fear No Evil Blu-ray and solves the mystery, the end. Also I realize this whole entry so far is the worst, most disappointing movie intro to a movie review of all time, but that's par for the course around here so you only have yourself to blame for reading it.

ANYWAY. You know how it goes: a baby is born, he's a baby of means. Then along come two, they got nothin' but their jeans. No wait! That's the Diff'rent Strokes theme song. What I meant to say is that a baby is born, he's the Antichrist! Lucifer has been reborn, you see, in wee little Andrew Williams (Stefan Arngrim), and somewhere out there the Archangels Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, also reborn, are waiting for Lucifer to show his dumb Lucifer face so they can kill him good. It's a cycle, you see, an eternal holy battle of good and evil and all that.

18 years later, Andrew is a weird, smart, shy, creepy, gangly high schooler who seems largely unaware of his true nature and/or powers, although his parents are absolutely terrified of him. Mostly Andrew spends his days glaring at his unruly classmates–and when I say they're unruly...boy, do I mean it.

Everyone in this school is 45 years old, horny, surly, and dumb. It's great! There's a girl gang–The Queen B's–replete with satin jackets à la One Dark Night. There are ne'er-do-wells who decide to bully Andrew in the locker room shower by...kissing him? Uh, sure, that's a thing, I guess.

Listen, there's a lot of gay in this movie, and I'm still trying to figure out what it all means and what it's trying to say. (See photo exhibit #1, of a very fabulous Andrew-Gone-Lucifer up at the top of this post.) Andrew is very obviously gay. There is copious fella nudity here, basements both front and rear (so many butts). The ne'er-do-well, Tony (Daniel Eden) is a real misogynist tough guy who smacks his girlfriends around, fucks her with a gun barrel (!! this movie!), and as I noted, kisses the kid he's bullying. Late in the film, when Andrew fully comes into his Satantastic powers (and dons lipstick, natch), he summons some oatmeal-faced zombies to rise out of the dirt, and they mostly shuffle around and hassle all the hetero couples that are scattered around. Andrew also...uh...gives Tony a pair of breasts (!! this movie!), which causes Tony to promptly kill himself. The Archangels Michael and Gabriel, in this cycle, are women.

Is Fear No Evil homophobic, making the evil Lucifer a homosexual? After all, the gay devil is killed by holy light beams at the end. Good wins the day. Or is the message the opposite of that, showing that religion is oppressive and repressive, snuffing out Lucifer's effeminate, flamboyant gayness? I suppose that's up to you to decide. I've decided it's the latter. Religion ruins everything, of course those drab Archangels wanted to squash Andrew's self-actualization. They're so boring.

Unfortunately, so is this movie! It's definitely a worthy curiosity to add to the queer horror canon, but aye yi yi it's mostly a slog and a mess. It's all over the place tonally, and there are serious pacing issues as it cuts between Andrew's journey and that of the Archangels. There's a disjointed feel to it, like writer/director Frank LaLoggia was trying to cram too much in; plot threads are underdeveloped and there's no build to the overarching story. The hints of The Omen, Carrie, and Rosemary's Baby throughout make you wish Fear No Evil went as nutso as any one of those. Still, for the budget there are some nice effects (I do so love an oatmeal-faced zombie), gothic-lite touches, and the soundtrack–which includes The B-52s, The Ramones, Sex Pistols, Patti Smith, and much much more–fuckin' rules. If only those Archangels and filmmakers alike would have let Andrew be his fabulous self!

SHOCKtober: 384-363

And the wind whispered...each movie listed here got ONE...VOTE...EACH...

384. The Conjuring 2 -- 2016, James Wan
383. The Convent -- 2000, Mike Mendez
382. The Dead Zone -- 1983, David Cronenberg
381. The Devil Rides Out -- 1968, Terence Fisher
380. The Devil's Backbone -- 2001, Guillermo del Toro
379. The Devil's Candy -- 2015, Sean Byrne
378. The Dorm That Dripped Blood -- 1982, Stephen Carpenter & Jeffrey Obrow
377. The Dunwich Horror -- 1970, Daniel Haller
376. The Faculty -- 1998, Robert Rodriguez
375. The Fly -- 1958, Kurt Neumann
374. The Frighteners -- 1996, Peter Jackson
373. The Gate -- 1987, Tibor Takács
372. The Gates of Hell -- 2008, Kelly Dolen
371. The Gorgon -- 1964, Terence Fisher
370. The Hand -- 1981, Oliver Stone
369. The Haunted Palace -- 1963, Roger Corman
368. The Haunting -- 1999, Jan de Bont
367. The Hills Have Eyes -- 1977, Wes Craven
366. The Hole -- 2009, Joe Dante
365. The Host -- 2006, Joon-ho Bong
364. The House on Haunted Hill -- 1999, William Malone
363. Howling V: The Rebirth -- 1989, Neal Sundstrom

The Convent forever! I will always love that movie. I can't believe it was released in 2000, though, what the heck. Lots of these release dates...1999? 1998? Goodness me, how old am I? Time keeps on somethin' somethin' somethin'...into the fyoo-tchaaaaa.

Look, I know this is a list of favorites and I do not judge them! We all love things and that's just great. But I would be lying, dear reader, if I did not say that it physically pained me to put #368 on this list. My feud with that film will never end! I will take it to the grave and beyond!

SHOCKtober: 427-406

Hey, if you assumed that each film listed today received ONE VOTE, then you didn't make an ass out of u or me! Because they did receive one vote each. Good job.

427. Saturn 3 -- 1980, Stanley Donen & John Barry
426. Scanners -- 1981, David Cronenberg
425. Seance on a Wet Afternoon -- 1964, Bryan Forbes
424. Shallow Grave -- 1987, Richard Styles
423. Shock -- 1977, Mario Bava
422. Signs -- 2002, M. Night Shyamalan
421. Silver Bullet -- 1985, Daniel Attias
420. Sinister -- 2012, Scott Derrickson
419. Sisters -- 1972, Brian De Palma
418. Sleepaway Camp II: Unhappy Campers -- 1988, Michael A.Simpson
417. Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland -- 1989, Michael A. Simpson
416. Sleepy Hollow -- 1999, Tim Burton
415. Slut -- 2014, Chloe Okuno
414. Sorority Row -- 2009, Stewart Hendler
413. Southbound -- 2015, Roxanne Benjamin, David Bruckner, Patrick Horvath, Radio Silence
412. Splatter University -- 1984, Richard W. Haines
411. Spookies -- 1986, Genie Joseph, Thomas Doran, Brendan Faulkner
410. Spring -- 2014, Justin Benson & Aaron Moorhead
409. StageFright -- 1987, Michele Soavi
408. Stake Land -- 2010, Jim Mickle
407. Starry Eyes -- 2014, Kevin Kolsch & Dennis Widmyer
406. Stephen King's Riding the Bullet -- 2004, Mick Garris

Stephen King's Riding the Bullet, eh? Well good for him, I say!

Listen, I don't want to victim blame but you really can't attend Splatter University and not expect a mess everywhere at best, to be murdered at worst.

If you haven't seen Starry Eyes yet...you really should see Starry Eyes.

And remember, kids, Angela is always watching!

SHOCKtober: 490-470

Hey y'all, it's ONE VOTE-erin' time! Each of these movies is a favorite movie of one person. Well, and they're probably the favorites of more people out there, but those people didn't vote so who cares about them.

490. Killer Klowns from Outer Space -- 1988, Stephen Chiodo
489. Krampus -- 2015, Michael Dougherty
488. Kristy -- 2014, Oliver Blackburn
487. Kuroneko -- 1968, Kaneto Shindô
486. La Horde -- 2009, Yannick Dahan & Benjamin Rocher
485. Landmine Goes Click -- 2015, Levan Bakhia
484. Le frisson des vampires -- 1971, Jean Rollin
483. Left Bank -- 2008, Pieter Van Hees
482. Let Us Prey -- 2014, Brian O'Malley
481. Little Shop of Horrors -- 1986, Frank Oz
480. Lords of Salem -- 2012, Rob Zombie
479. Lovely Molly -- 2001, Eduardo Sánchez
478. Macabre -- 1980, Lamberto Bava
477. Madhouse -- 1981, Ovidio G. Assonitis
476. Madman -- 1981, Joe Giannone
475. Man Bites Dog -- 1992, Rémy Belvaux, André Bonzel, Benoît Poelvoorde
474. Maniac Cop -- 1988, William Lustig
473. Matango -- 1963, Ishirô Honda
472. Mausoleum -- 1983, Michael Dugan
471. Memento Mori -- 1999, Tae-yong Kim & Kyu-dong Min
470. Mimic -- 1997, Guillermo del Toro

Great googly-moogly, how I love Mausoleum! Such an endless delight. In my humble opinion you can never go wrong with a possession film all chock full of corn teeth.

Come with me, if you will, on a journey called Landmine Goes Click:

I read the synopsis on IMDb when I look up the year and director. "Hmm, sounds interesting, I think!" I think. "A dude steps on a live landmine, is forced to continue standing there lest...ka-boom. I shall watch the trailer!"

"Hmm, okay. This looks pretty cool and I...wait, is this going to get rapey? Like, his girlfiend gets raped in front of him and he can't do anything lest...ka-boom? I shall find a review!"

From a review: "...Ilya plays a sadistic, sexually humiliating game with Alicia, forcing her to complete increasingly degrading tasks, until the inevitable, extended, graphic rape scene."

For fuck's sake. I'm just so tired of rape and sexual violence being used as a device in horror films, particularly when it's used solely to provide the male lead with the impetus for his righteous anger and revenge. I bid you good day, Landmine Goes Click. I SAID GOOD DAY.

SHOCKtober: 511-491

Yep yep, you know the drill: each of these films received ONE VOTE each. But we're breaking that 500 barrier, woo.

511. House -- 1985, Steve Miner
510. House of Wax -- 1953, André De Toth
509. Housebound -- 2014, Gerard Johnstone
508. Humanoids from the Deep -- 1980, Barbara Peeters & Jimmy T. Murakami
507. Hush -- 2016, Mike Flanagan
506. I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House -- 2016, Oz Perkins
505. I Know What You Did Last Summer -- 1997, Jim Gillespie
504. I Saw the Devil -- 2010, Jee-woon Kim
503. I, Madman -- 1989, Tibor Takács
502. Idle Hands -- 1999, Rodman Flender
501. In My Skin -- 2002, Marina de Van
500. Invasion of the Bee Girls -- 1973, Denis Sanders
499. Isle of the Dead -- 1945, Mark Robson
498. It -- 1990, Tommy Lee Wallace
497. It Comes at Night -- 2017, Trey Edward Shults
496. It's Alive -- 1974, Larry Cohen
495. Jason X -- 2001, James Isaac
494. Jaws 2 -- 1978, Jeannot Szwarc
493. Ju-on: The Grudge 2 -- 2003, Takashi Shimizu
492. Just Before Dawn -- 1981, Jeff Lieberman
491. Kill List -- 2011, Ben Wheatley

Why, there's some good stuff here, kids. Just Before Dawn is a terrific, often overlooked slasher flick. In My Skin is friggin' great if you're into body horror all new-French style (and you should be). I could go on: Housebound, Kill List...BUT I WON'T because I am the tired thing that lives in the apartment.

SHOCKtober: 533-512

You know the drill! ONE VOTE EACH! ONE VOTE EACH! GOOBLE GOBBLE ONE VOTE EACH!

533. Freaks -- 1932, Tod Browning
532. From a Whisper to a Scream -- 1987, Jeff Burr
531. From Beyond the Grave -- 1974, Kevin Connor
530. Frozen -- 2010, Adam Green
529. Gargoyles -- 1972, Bill Norton
528. Goodnight Mommy -- 2014, Severin Fiala & Veronika Franz
527. Grabbers -- 2012, Jon Wright
526. Grave Encounters -- 2011, Colin Minihan & Stuart Ortiz
525. Grim Prairie Tales -- 1990, Wayne Coe
524. Habit -- 1995, Larry Fessenden
523. Halloween II -- 2009, Rob Zombie
522. Hands of the Ripper -- 1971, Peter Sasdy
521. Hard Candy -- 2005, David Slade
520. Hatchet -- 2006, Adam Green
519. Häxan -- 1922, Benjamin Christensen
518. He Never Died -- 2015, Jason Krawczyk
517. Hell Night -- 1981, Tom DeSimone
516. Hell of the Living Dead -- 1980, Bruno Mattei & Claudio Fragasso
515. Here Comes the Devil -- 2012, Adrián García Bogliano
514. Horror Hotel -- 1960, John Llewellyn Moxey
513. The Horror of Party Beach -- 1964, Del Tenney
512. Hour of the Wolf -- 1968, Ingmar Bergman

Ooh baby I love Hell Night! One vote only...bah! It's getting a fancy-pants Blu-ray release in December (FINALLY) and I, for one, am ready to get all gorked out.

If I may be so bold, I think one of the greatest things about this kind of SHOCKtober experiment is that we can end up with an Ingmar Bergman film listed next to something called The Horror of Party Beach. We like 'em in all shapes and sizes around these parts, we don't discriminate!

So many of these films I feel like I've reviewed. Gargoyles, From Beyond the Grave...did I only review them in my head? If that's the case, well, it's not my fault you can't read them.

I enjoyed Grave Encounters quite a bit, but as you can see I refused to list the directors as "The Vicious Brothers." Remember when brother duos would bill themselves as brother duos and they were a bit of a thing in horror? Where are the sister duos? Are the Soskas the only ones carrying that torch?

And finally, speaking of "gooble gobble"...here is a sketchcard commission I did approximately 100 years ago that sure was fun to draw.

SHOCKtober: 554-534

Oh my child, we are still deep in ONE VOTE EACH territory.

554. Don't Go to Sleep -- 1982, Richard Lang
553. Don't Look in the Basement -- 1973, S.F. Brownrigg
552. Don't Open the Door -- 2014, Danny Foxx
551. Dr. Giggles -- 1992, Manny Coto
550. Dracula -- 1931, Tod Browning
549. Dracula A.D. 1972 -- 1972, Alan Gibson
548. Dracula Has Risen from the Grave -- 1968, Freddie Francis
547. Dream Home -- 2010, Ho-Cheung Pang
546. Duel -- 1971, Steven Spielberg
545. Dust Devil: The Final Cut -- 1992, Richard Stanley
544. Eden Lake -- 2008, James Watkins
543. Elle -- 2016, Paul Verhoeven
542. Empire of the Ants -- 1977, Bert I. Gordon
541. Eve's Bayou -- 1997, Kasi Lemmons
540. Eyes of Fire -- 1983, Avery Crounse
539. The Fall of the House of Usher -- 1928, Jean Epstein
538. Feast -- 2005, John Gulager
537. Final Destination 2 -- 2003, Davis R. Ellis
536. Final Destination 3 -- 2006, James Wong
535. Final Exam -- 1981, Jimmy Huston
534. The Food of the Gods -- 1976, Bert I. Gordon

Ugh, Food of the Gods would be a 100% perfect movie if it weren't for its use of real rats. I can't abide it! Real animals getting injured (at best) was too shocking and too much of a bummer the first (and only) time I've seen the film. Really sucks all the fun out of it for me. What a drag.

Man there's a lot of great advice in this little chunk o' list!  The basement? Don't look in there! The door? Don't open it! Sleep? Don't go to there! I'm hoping we saved some lives today.

SHOCKtober: 575-555

Another day, another batch of ONE VOTE movies!

575. Cloverfield -- 2008, Matt Reeves
574. Coherence -- 2013, James Ward Byrkit
573. Cold Prey 2 -- 2008, Mats Stenberg
572. The Collingswood Story -- 2002, Michael Costanza
571. Coma -- 1978, Michael Crichton
570. Creepshow 2 -- 1987, Michael Gornick
569. Crimson Peak -- 2015, Guillermo del Toro
568. Cujo -- 1983, Lewis Teague
567. Cure -- 1997, Kiyoshi Kurosawa
566. Dark Night of the Scarecrow -- 1981, Frank De Felitta
565. The Dark Secret of Harvest Home -- 1978, Leo Penn
564. Dead & Buried -- 1981, Gary Sherman
563. Dead End -- 2003, Jean-Baptiste Andrea & Fabrice Canepa
562. Dead Snow -- 2009, Tommy Wirkola
561. Deadly Blessing -- 1981, Wes Craven
560. Death Line (aka Raw Meat) -- 1972, Gary Sherman
559. Deathwatch -- 2002, Michael J. Bassett
558. Deliverance -- 1972, John Boorman
557. Detention -- 2011, Joseph Kahn
556. Doctor X -- 1932, Michael Curtiz
555. Dolls -- 1987, Stuart Gordon

YES Crimson Peak! Mismarketed à la one of yesterday's selections, Bug, it's not the all-out frightfest people were expecting (although frankly we should know that by now when it comes to Guillermo del Toro, right?). It's some straight-up lush, ghost-flavored gothic romance, like a paperback cover come to life. Jessica Chastain steals the show, channeling the restrained menace of Rebecca's Mrs. Danvers until she just can't keep the crazy hidden anymore. Look I even find Tom Hiddleston okay and that dude makes my skin crawl! What I'm saying is, I love Crimson Peak.

There are a lot of terrific films on this chunk o' list, so well done, kids. Dark Night of the Scarecrow and Dark Secret of Harvest Home–evidence that made-for-TV movies used to know what's up. Cujo, an underrated, terrific example of how confining characters to a single, very small place can still produce an engaging film. And given the state of the world these days, not much sounds better to me than retreating into the warm, comforting embrace of a Michael Crichton medical thriller like Coma!

Day 6: OMEN III: THE FINAL CONFLICT (1981)

"Liquidate the Nazarene."

Just lie back and think of Heaven

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzwhaHUH? Oh, sorry. Guess I must have dozed off whilst trying to make it through this interminable slog of a film. A trilogy following the life of Damien Thorn from his cherubic childhood to his time as a prep school punk to his adult life as an ambassador and head of a corporation sure seems like a good idea. By the time Omen III: The Final Conflict came about, though, that idea had run completely out of steam. Who knew that the ascendancy of the Antichrist would be so friggin' dull?

Though he's in his thirties now, things haven't changed much from the time Damien was a boy. He's still got a Rottweiler and minions who do his bidding. He's still waiting to bring Hell to Earth and claim his place as leader, or as the leader's son, or...look, it's a little vague. But it'll be bad! And that's why a bunch of priests wave around sacred knives and try to stop him. Prophecy this, stars lining up that, ho hum. You've seen it all before, from the closeups of eyes both canine and human to the frightened grey-haired dudes who pull their trench coats tighter and cast furtive glances behind them as they scuttle away from creepy feelings, it's...you know. The Omen. Cue the hosanna-laden bombastic score.

It's a franchise that always seems to be classier than it actually is, thanks to its self-serious tone and formidable actors, but its trashy, lurid side is never too far from the surface; the shocking moments in the original film are still, well, shocking. The Final Conflict has a few memorable scenes for sure–I mean, one of Damien's schemes involves wiping out any baby that could possibly be the second coming of Christ–but these scenes are too few and too far between the copious minutes spent with either Good or Evil as they fret.

Surprisingly, the obvious political allegory is left to wither on the vine. The President brushes aside the laws that don't suit Damien's desire to be an ambassador and a UN council head and a corporate chairman, but then it's all dropped. For all the running time (this shit clocks in at almost two hours) and use of the word "machinations", there's virtually no political machinations to speak of and it seems like a missed opportunity. Maybe now would be a good time to remake this movie, particularly if–Charles Nelson Reilly forbid–Donald Trump ends up in the Oval Office. Hmm, maybe those knife-wielding priests were onto something. Someone check the back of Trump's head for the telltale birthmark!

SHOCKtober: 60-51

The following film received three votes:

60. Halloween II -- 1981, Rick Rosenthal

Each of the following films received four votes:

59. The Grudge -- 2004, Takashi Shimizu

58. An American Werewolf in London -- 1981, John Landis

57. Friday the 13th Part 2 -- 1981, Steve Miner

56. The Woman in Black -- 1989, Herbert Wise

55. It -- 1990, Tommy Lee Wallace

54. Child's Play -- 1988, Tom Holland

53. The House of the Devil -- 2009, Ti West

52. Scream -- 1996, Wes Craven

51. The Brood -- 1979, David Cronenberg

What a sweet, sweet chunk o' list this is! So much goodness. More than anything, I think it simply reinforces my belief that 1981 was totally such an awesome year for horror. Although I have to admit, whenever I think about Halloween II, the first thing that comes to mind is that Dollar Tree wig Jamie Lee Curtis sports.

Okay, now here is some news you can use:

First and foremost, tonight is the night! The night of...The Re-Scare-ening, a one-night Scare-ening reunion special. Listen in! Call in! It'll be fun. And if you can't listen live (tonight at 8pm EST/5pm PST), it'll be available for download and streaming after it airs.

Also, it's time to choose a choice for the Final Girl Film Club. And this time, it's a film everyone won't shut up about so I'd might as well add my voice to the cacophony...The Conjuring! Can't wait to see how James Wan's fear of dolls and old women is manifested this time! Ah, don't worry, I'll give it a fair shake. I hope I enjoy it as much as most everyone else seems to.

Here lie the Film Club what-fors:

The movie: The Conjuring
The due date: Tuesday, November 12
The deal:

1. watch the movie
2. link to Final Girl somewhere in your review
3. email me the link: stacieponder at gmail dot com
4. bask in the warm embrace of your fellow Film Clubbers

If you wrote a review of the film previously, that's totally fine. Just add a link to Final Girl in there somewhere and send it along.

l'il nibbles

One of the biggest dangers in living an exciting, action-packed life such as my own is that it is actually possible to experience too much. Too many adventures and too many emotions get all jumbled up in my brain place. Sometimes, I find myself thinking back on, say, that time I made a papier-maiche Jermaine Jackson head to give to him as a gift, but then his roadies threw it in the shower to "defuse" it because they thought it was a bomb...but then I'm like "Damn, Stacie. That didn't happen to you...that happened to Tootie on an episode of The Facts of Life." What are dreams? What is reality? Am I Inception?

Sigh. Look, I know that this post seems like another excerpt from the story of my ongoing existential life crisis, but there's a point and that point is this: once in a while I mention a movie here on Final Girl and then I'll consult my big list of review links to find a review link only to find there is no review link. This is immediately followed by the thought "Well, mayhaps I didn't write a review, but surely I've talked about this film. Or maybe I just forgot to add it to the review list..." and I'll search around the ol' FG only to find precisely jack squat. Then I wonder a whole bunch about what's up because I'm convinced I have done this thing despite whatever my computer tells me. Then, as I said, I get worried about reality vs my brain's reality. Am I losing my mind? Wherefore art thou, cognitive dissonance? Am I Inception? Why is brain?

The answer, however, is a simple one: I've written about these movies elsewhere, be it for a website or a magazine or whatever. Because you may not peruse those websites or magazines or whatevers, you may not know how I feel about [Movie] and that is, legally speaking, a crime against nature. So, here are some tiny bits- not necessarily reviews, but...mmm, opinions about some movies I've yet to talk about at Final Girl. These were all talked about at AMC's website.

Even if you find these unfulfilling, hey. Having these on the record will ease my Inception-esque worries in the future!

The Centerfold Girls (1974)

This sleazy little slasher flick has recently gotten the remastered DVD treatment, and it’s totally worth checking out if you’re into…err, sleazy slasher flicks. As Clement Dunne, genre veteran Andrew Prine is morally outraged by women who pose for a nudie calendar, but he’s obviously not morally outraged by murder. The Centerfold Girls is pure grindhouse-flavor exploitation featuring the white-hot Tiffany “Kingdom of the Spiders” Bolling.

Looker (1981)

Michael Crichton’s Looker has a few things going for it, including its bitchin’ synthesized score and theme song. A bunch of beautiful models head to the Beverly Hills office of plastic surgeon Larry Roberts (Albert Finney) for minor tweaks in an attempt to become even more beautiful…because, you know, shaving 2mm off your nose can really make all the difference. The women soon start dropping like pretty, pretty flies, so Dr. Roberts gets his investigatin’ on. He soon finds himself in the computer graphics enhanced world of early 80s media conglomerates and advertising agencies, where artificiality is the word of the day. The eeeevil advertising magnates are using artificial actors in their commercials, to which I say gimme a break! Computer-made actors, crafted solely of pixels? Why, that’s just crazy talk- such a thing could never be!

Dawn of the Mummy (1981)

This American/Egyptian/Italian effort combines some of the greatest things in the history of ever: namely, zombie-style gut munching, pyramids, and fashion models. Make no mistake- Dawn of the Mummy is pretty lousy…but it’s awesomely lousy. The premise is simple: a group of shockingly self-centered model-types desecrate the tomb of someone or other by staging a photo shoot around his sarcophagus; the mummy, along with his mummy pals, rises and lays waste to the model-types. The thing is, that summary makes it seem as if the film is actually somewhat logical- trust me when I assure you it’s not. Who needs logic, though, when you’ve got mummies who act like zombies?

Tourist Trap (1979)

Preceding the slasher boom by a couple of years, Tourist Trap has all bears all the hallmarks of the subgenre: a group of good-looking teens end up stranded in a remote location (Slausen’s Lost Oasis, a rundown roadside attraction joint) on their way to a weekend of partying, only to find themselves hunted by a masked killer. What sets Tourist Trap apart, however, are the finer things: creepy mannequins, telekinesis, Chuck Connors hamming it up, and a closing shot that’s one of the true, bizarre, insane joys in all horrordom.

Below (2002)

A US submarine picks up three shipwrecked Brits as they patrol hostile German waters in this WWII-era ghost story. The claustrophobic setting adds to the sense of gloom and doom in this mature effort penned by Darren Aronofsky. It’s a low-key haunted boat story; you know the CGI-enhanced, bombastic Ghost Ship? It’s pretty much the opposite of that.

Dead End (2003)

Ah, the old “this shortcut down a dark, wooded road was a really bad idea!” routine. We’ve seen it a million times in horror, but Dead End amps up the formula with enough twists, turns, and genuine scares to leave you feeling unsettled throughout. The cast, led by Ray Wise and Lin Shaye, make familiar characters feel fresh. Though the end is predictable to genre vets, the fun is in the ride that gets you there.

First Born (2007)

I picked up this DVD on a complete lark one fine day; I’d never even heard of it, but the cover seemed to promise Elisabeth Shue as a crazed mommy and that was all I needed to take First Born home. The cover is slightly misleading- Shue is a crazed mommy, but not of the Mommy variety. She’s more a Yellow Wallpaper-type: a woman driven mad by her insecurities and the pressure of motherhood. This film wasn’t at all what I expected; rather, it was much more. It’s a taut, enthralling psychological character study in the horror/thriller vein that deserves a look.

Pontypool (2008)

This Canadian film breathed new life into the undead by presenting a world in which a rage virus can be transmitted not through bites, but through words. Sure, it's a bit of a head-scratcher, but it's an idea as horrifying as it is intricate: that language itself may be our undoing. Pontypool gives you plenty to think about, but it doesn't skimp on the thrills either as a small band of survivors trapped in a radio station control room try to figure out what's going on right outside their door- before it gets in.

The Children (2008)

Kids are germ sponges. They pick up every little virus, from the flu to the chicken pox and everything in between; usually this leads to lots of coughing, whining, and bedrest. In The Children, however, the coughing and whining of the virus-riddled kids during Christmas celebrations leads to murder most deadly, which really puts a damper on things. If you think you've seen everything a "killer kid" flick has to offer, well, you ain't seen nothin' until you've seen this one. It's as violent, brutal, and surprising as the worst 24-hour bug.

Triangle (2009)

When Triangle arrived in my mailbox, I was put off by its corny lenticular cover. Another throw-away direct-to-DVD flick, thought I. How wrong I was! In Triangle, writer/director Christopher Smith has concocted a labyrinthine horror tale that demands your attention right up until the end. When passengers on board a yacht are forced onto an ocean liner due to stormy conditions, they find the larger ship deserted...except for someone who's hunting them. A true underrated gem that proves what your mother always tried to teach you: corny lenticular covers can be deceiving!