Chilling Classics Cthursday: NAKED MASSACRE (1976)

Sigh. Honestly, when I read the synopsis on the sleeve of this week's Chilling Classic, I should have said "no thank you, taking the week off, everyone!" 

In Belfast, a group of eight nurses share a home while working at various hospitals and clinics throughout the city. Entering into their lives is a crazed Vietnam veteran with a hatred for women who decides to take out his hatred on them. Stalking them one by one, the killer terrorizes and tortures the women while the authorities attempt to track him down.

If you said "Oh, so it's Richard Speck? But Belfast and Vietnam?" you get some kind of prize because you're right on the money! Except this movie--also known as Born for Hell because the killer has a "Born for Hell" tattoo, you know, kinda like Speck's "Born to Raise Hell" tattoo--features more sexual assault than Speck's 1966 spree. 

But I though, this is the covenant I entered with Mill Creek Entertainment and a horror blog, so buck up, girlie, and do your duty.

I didn't make it, sorry.

To tell the truth, Naked Massacre (sigh part deux) begins as something that almost wants to be interesting, or at least it wants us to think it does. A Vietnam vet on his way home after scamming his way out of service winds up in Belfast during "The Troubles," as Protestants and Catholics and the IRA and British forces clash in the streets. A bomb goes off in a church, children "play" by reenacting firing squad executions, and our nurses get their first taste of death. The vet makes a point about how he "swapped one Hell for another" and while that's not exactly a profound point, I felt for a second like maybe I'd end up surprised that the synopsis wasn't giving the movie proper credit. You know, something about governent-sanctioned violence and so on.

It got even more interesting when the vet formed a quasi-friendship with his fellow flophouse denizen, a fey Viet refugee, who seemed to clock the vet as perhaps a kindred spirit, or perhaps just a woman-hater.

But any potential Somethings to Say flew out the window when he arrived at the house and the film heads into exploitation territory, its true destination all along. Armed with a large switchblade, and sets about terrorizing, raping, and murdering the young women, and that was where I bid the film a middle-fingered adieu. 

I decided to read some other reviews and thoughts, though; I had no intention of going back to finish the movie (life is short, I could be watching...anything else), but maybe there would be some attempt at a point to all of it. Doesn't seem so, and if you'd like to read the descriptions of what the girls are forced to endure, then you are welcome to go find it as I'm not going to waste the energy typing all that abhorrent shit out.

But there were also comments I saw from exploitation fans who were bummed the movie didn't go far enough, that the "naked chicks" were the best part of it and that, as one hilariously-phrased gripe put it, there were better movies to watch if you wanted to watch "people/women" be terrorized. 

No one ever comes here looking for hot exploitation tips (or if they do, they must leave quickly) as it's not my purview nor my bag. I dabble on the rare occasion (a girl sometimes has cannibal feelings, okay), but I'll never see the point in sexual assault as titillation fare ever. But hey, this movie is another in the Mill Creek to Fancy Blu-ray pipeline, so.

There sure are all kinds of horror fans around.

The What What Now?

I don't want to brag or anything, but I must admit that most of the time I'm pretty pleased with my brain. It may not have any Carrie-esque special murder powers (YET), but it's still fairly useful: it reminds me to put pants on before I leave the house, it has key dialogue from the 1995 made for TV film Midwest Obsession (aka Beauty's Revenge, starring Courtney Thorne-Smith and Tracey fucking Gold) stored in it, it hasn't fallen for any of the "flat Earth" business, etc etc. However! Sometimes–don't tell it I said this, it's just between me and you–my brain is a real jerk. For example, this year a movie called The Bye Bye Man shows up out of nowhere. "Ha! Ha! Ha!" says my brain. "What a stupid title. Really? The 'Bye Bye Man'? Best not waste your time on that, 'tis certain to be ever so awful." (I know...sometimes my brain talks like it's the fifth Little Women sister or something. It's just a thing it does.)

But then I read that Carrie-Anne Moss and Faye Dunaway (FAYE DUNAWAY!) are in The Bye Bye Man and the next thing I know, my brain is going "Okay, this movie is going to rule so hard. It has to! Trust me, I've done the math." My brain convinced me that this is a film I simply had to see. And the next next thing I know, I am spending ninety-nine cents renting the damn Bye Bye Man and reader, let me say this: that is at least $0.99 too much. That's right. This movie should have paid me to watch it!

Back in the summer of '69, a man goes on an oddly bloodless shotgun rampage. Before he shoots each victim, he asks questions like "WHO DID YOU TELL?" and "DID YOU SAY IT?" and "REMEMBER WHEN YOU COULD SIT OUTSIDE AND NOT WORRY ABOUT THE MOSQUITOS AND THE KILLERS?" Okay, that last one is strictly an I wish. But no matter what answer he gets to his questions, the man is unsatisfied and he bangs, he bangs. Then it's bye bye, man, and we travel to the future, aka the now.

In this so-called "now" three college students are excited to move into an enormous house together. I did not bother to learn their names (so sue me), but our intrepid heroes are: Guy Who Must Really Like The Dead Kennedys Because He Has A Sticker On His Car, On The Acoustic Guitar Case That Is Propped In A Corner, And Also He Wears a Dead Kennedys T-Shirt (I shall call him DK); Girl Who Is DK's Girlfriend; and Black Dude Who Is DK's Childhood Best Friend And Also Maybe He Has A Crush On Girl. PHEW!

DK finds a nightstand that has a drawer festooned with classic "crazy person" writing that warns "don't think it don't say it" over and over again. Underneath it says "Bye Bye Man"...before you can say DON'T THINK IT DON'T SAY IT, DK has thought it and said it.

A "sensitive" friend of Girl holds a kind of...seance? I guess? And I don't know, she gets both the heebies and the jeebies and the point is, the Bye Bye Man is now a thing, infecting all of our intrepid heroes and the sensitive friend and anyone else who hears his name.

How exactly does the BBMan manifest? Oh, let me count the ways:

• there are scratches in a few walls
• victims hallucinate, like DK thinks Girl and Black Dude have sex but they don't (spoiler)
• Girl develops a persistent cough
• Black Dude hallucinates that there are three maggots in Sensitive Friend's hair one time
• doors slam
• sometimes you think the black bathrobe hanging on the wall is the Bye Bye Man
• coins? there are coins
• and there's a train? a train noise and light happen sometimes for some reason?
• he "makes you do things" but really the only bad thing people do is kill other people who have heard his name, so clearly the Bye Bye Man doesn't quite understand how to propagate his evil for lasting results
• oh another thing you might do is fill up a notebook with "crazy person" writing and YES the Bye Bye Man does, in fact, have a Bye Bye Dog

Carrie-Anne Moss is a police...person? Detective, I guess, it's never really stated...that sort of investigates the goings on, by which I mean she interviews DK after Sensitive Friend gets killed but he convinces her that lying is okay sometimes so she lets him go.

Here we see Carrie-Anne Moss reminding herself that the paycheck from her appearance in The Bye Bye Man will put one of her kids through college.

Faye Dunaway appears briefly as the Widda Shotgun Guy From The Beginning, and her advice to DK about The BByeMan Problem is simply "kill everyone else who knows the name and then kill yourself." It's possible that was also her advice to me, the person who rented this garbage.

Our Heroes kind of try to figure out how get out of this mess alive ("I can relate!"–me while watching this movie) and they hallucinate scenarios and situations that never ever fool the audience. Who is The Bye Bye Man? We don't know...and I don't mean that in some esoteric "he is unknowable, a force, a concept come alive" way, like Michael Myers or some shit. I mean his origins aren't touched upon, mysteries go unsolved, it all just happens and then it's over. All we know is that he has a dog, he's got some scars, he sulks, he wears a hooded black robe thing, and his shirt has buttons, which struck me as really weird for some reason. He's a Hot Topic customer? 

In case you haven't caught on by now, this movie is awful. So awful, in fact, that while watching it, I wondered how it even got made. You're telling me that someone plopped down a script with that title and someone else handed over money and everyone just said YES and here we are? Really? How could that be?

And then I figured it out. 

The Bye Bye Man must have been written by a neural network. An AI! 

It's the latest rage: plug a massive dataset into a neural network–like, say, recipes–and the network will learn to create its own recipes. The results are frequently hilarious. And so I posit that someone, somewhere, formed a dataset from a huge amount of horror movie plots and titles and tropes and lo, the AI pooped out this movie. To the evidence mobile!

• characters frequently speak not as humans actually do, but as exposition machines might: "Hello, brother."
• all that bog standard horror movie "crazy person" writing
• the Dollar Tree Pontypool / Candyman "people speak him into reality" business, but without the actual urban legend aspect
• the Dollar Tree Nightmare on Elm Street "maybe if we're not afraid, he's nothing" business (for real, that is a thing someone says)
• all that Dead Kennedys stuff, surely a computer thought that would be a good character-building idea
• the amount of "hey you guys, it's not funny"s we get
• the "scary things" that are BBMan's hallmarks: so many trains, so many coins WHY. None of them are explained, ever. 
• he "looks creepy" like a bargain basement Slenderman, but then that Henley shirt, what is that
• the characters immediately figure out that the BBMan is a thing, the cause of all of their strife without actually learning anything
• someone sees an old timey picture of the BBMan on their Instagram (I KNOW) and it turns into a gif, so creepy!!!!!
• that title

As you can see, that The Bye Bye Man was created by a neural network is the only reasonable explanation for this mess. On the one hand, it's a remarkable technological achievement, a sign that the future is already here, man. On the other hand, the future obviously sucks! But I suppose we can find solace in the fact that the robots are not quite ready to rise up and subjugate humankind...not in the realm of horror movie-making, at least.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to give my brain a stern talking to. Bye bye, man!

The Nightmare-ening Day 6: FREDDY'S DEAD: THE FINAL NIGHTMARE (1991)

Since A Nightmare on Elm Street 5 ends with Super Dream Master Alice and her Super Dream Unborn Child emerging victorious from battle with Freddy Krueger, it's not crazy to think that the sixth film in the series, Freddy's Dead, might involve these characters in some capacity. But no! It is not to be. Instead, this film does whatever it wants to, beginning with this:

Oh. Okay.

So...wait. It's been ten years since The Dream Child? Is that what "now" refers to? And in that time, the entire under-18 population of Springwood is wiped out save one teenager and all the adults have completely flipped out? And we're just going to...skip out on all of that? And there's no police involvement or anything? What a strange foot to start on, Freddy's Dead. What a very strange foot. You've sure got moxie, kid!

But moxie is all you've got because good GRAVY this is a bad movie. I'm not sure where to begin, and quite frankly I want to purge the memory of this film and everything associated with it from my brain as quickly as I can. I want to peruse the Final Girl archives in, say, 2019 and come across this entry and think...huh. The screencaps kind of ring a bell a bit, but I don't remember much about this movie. Did I actually watch it?

And hey, Future Me: if you are getting it in your head to give Freddy's Dead another try in the interests of science or horror movies or remembering or whatever the reason is: STOP. Stop yourself right now. Cut off your own head if you have to, just stay as far away from this film as you can. See? It's bad. You had a bad, bad time watching this.

Aw, but baby Breckin Meyer! And Yaphet Kotto! What if I watch it in 3D this time? Maybe I'll find something worthwhile to it! It's the year 2019, after all. Freddy's Dead is the very rare horror film in which no women are killed...shouldn't I watch it again to see if it's subversive in other ways? Maybe there's meaning in--

NO! No, Future Me. It is not worth another 90 minutes of your life, I promise. Time is running out for you as it is!

Is that a threat?

Not at all, I am just saying. You've already spent 90 minutes with this film. Rather than doubling that, you should spend those 90 minutes watching something you love. Or something you've never seen. You should watch anything else. Why, you could stare at the wall, even! That would be 90 minutes better spent.

Yeah, but this:

I know. Even with that.

Look everybody, I'm not really sure what to say here. Freddy's Dead doesn't make much sense in the ways it plays with the logic of the preceding films in the series (yeah, they had their own logic). People can pull each other into dreams all willy-nilly, rendering Kristen's specialness decidedly unspecial. No one is particularly scared about Freddy, or scared by him when they confront him. If anything, The Final Nightmare seems to want to be a horror-comedy–man, Roseanne is one of the greatest TV shows of all time, but I really didn't need Roseanne and Tom Arnold in this movie–and ultimately fails at both.

Huge amounts of backstory are given to Freddy Krueger. We see glimpses of his childhood, where he is teased for being the product of a gang rape, and his adulthood where oh, hey, he was married and had a kid. This is substantial development for a horror movie icon, and yet it's all waved away quickly. Freddy's child doesn't have any qualms about being the child of a child killer. None of this means anything at all, and when Freddy finally dies after six fucking movies, Freddy's child quips "Freddy's dead!" and everyone laughs and I'm surprised it didn't end on a GD freeze frame. That's it. That's the wrap up for the Nightmare on Elm Street series. Are you kidding me?

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to figure out how to bleach my brain so I can forget about this movie and get on with my life. See you in 2019*!

*tomorrow, when I post about the remake of A Nightmare on Elm Street

Day 18: V/H/S 2 (2013)

I fully admit that I didn't want to watch V/H/S 2. I whined and hemmed and hawed like a four-year-old who doesn't want to pick up her toys and go to bed. I went through all seven stages of grief. I decided that I hate myself, I hate horror movies, I hate this blog, I hate SHOCKtober, I hate you. Finally I couldn't put it off any longer, and I started it, reminding myself that I only had myself to blame for this predicament; there are plenty of movies on Netflix that are not V/H/S 2, after all. I think I added it to the SHOCKtober lineup as some kind of exposure therapy; like if I were to just confront the movie head on by sitting through it, perhaps I could overcome my loathing of "bro horror." Maybe I'd even like it!

SPOILER ALERT: I did not like it.

In the first story, a young slob gets an experimental camera eye implant and soon discovers that it allows him to see ghosts–or at least, they are people who are sort of grey and they have dark circles under their eyes and they look glum. A fellow patient named Clarissa shows up at the slob's house and (ahem) explains it all: she got a hearing implant that allows her to hear the ghosts. The only way to get them to go away is for Clarissa to get her tits out and have sex with the slob. I was reluctant to watch the movie, sure, but it wasn't until this point in the proceedings that I was questioning every life choice I've ever made, and how I had come to this moment.

The second story features a mountain biker with a GoPro camera strapped to his helmet; he runs afoul of some zombies and soon becomes a zombie himself, the camera running the whole time.

The third story follows an inept news crew (I guess? who fucking knows who these people are) as they investigate a cult and then there are demons.

The last story has awful children playing pranks on an older sister and her friends, and then there are aliens.

The framing narrative is so pointless that beyond "someone watches all the stories on VHS tapes", I don't even care. I turned it off a few minutes before the end in order to reclaim my life, take back the night, etc etc.

I know this is an anthology and there isn't time to really dig in and indulge in amazing storytelling, but here's the thing: each story in V/H/S/ 2 feels like the result of "Wouldn't it be cool if this happened?", which, you know, is perfectly fine. Build your segment around a premise! That's what many writers and directors do. But for fuck's sake, if there is going to be dialogue, the premise alone is simply not enough. The only successful story in this film is the second one, the zombie with a GoPro. It's entertaining and it works because it's a rare case where the idea alone is enough. The main character is like "I'm gonna ride my bike!" and then he does, and then he gets bit, and then he attacks people, the end. It's novel and kind of funny, and that's all it needs to be.

But every other story is brought down by dialogue that consists largely of "What the fuck?" "Fuck you!" "Fuck fuck!" "Fuuuuck!" and so on. Now, I am certainly not averse to such colorful language; you might even say I am a connoisseur des cusses. But thinking back on some of my favorite anthologies–films like Creepshow–it's the writing that sets it apart. More to the point, it's the characters. Creepshow is nothing more than a bunch of "Wouldn't it be cool if this happened?" stories–wouldn't it be cool if mean ol' dad came back from the dead? Wouldn't it be cool if there was a monster in the crate? But the script, although full of plenty of "fuck"s, puts the characters over the premises, and that's a huge reason why it's so memorable.

Granted, I realize that none of the dudes behind V/H/S 2 are on the level of Creepshow's George Romero or Stephen King. But still, it's worth trying to go beyond "What the fuck?" *jump scare* "Fuuuuck!" *head blown off with shotgun* "Fuck fuck fuck!" *gore*

I don't know, maybe it's me. And that's fine! There are many flavors of horror, after all. It's just that this exposure therapy doesn't seem to be taking, and honestly, I'm not going to try anymore.

Day 11: DEVIL SEED (2012)

I try as best I can to live a life without regret. Please, don't get me wrong; like everyone else on the planet, I have made mistakes and done bad things and made poor choices. I've done a lot of regrettable things! My 8th grade mullet and penchant for hawaiian shirts? Beyond regrettable. Not buying that prop newspaper from Co-Ed Call Girl at Tori Spelling's yard sale? Ugh, what, did I not bring my brain along with me that day? When I say "a life without regret", I don't mean I haven't done asshole things to myself and/or others, or that asshole things haven't happened to me because of decisions I've made. What I mean is that I try to learn from these incidents. Make amends, make changes, whatever, and move on. Living saddled with regret means you're weighed down my those awful things, and you're not going forward. Basically, I try not to wallow.

That said, sometimes it's hard. Sometimes you end up in a situation from which you cannot easily extricate yourself, and your failings just sit there in front of your face, teasing you mercilessly. "Bet you wish you'd made a different choice, huh? Bet you rue the day this idea came into your head!"

YES THAT'S RIGHT, DEVIL SEED. I regret the day I chose you as part of the SHOCKtober lineup. I regret that by the time I am done with this review, I will have spent several hours in your company–hours I will never get back. And I could use them! I have a finite time on this planet, and I have a lot of shit to do.

I just...arrgh. It wasn't five minutes into this steaming hot pile of garbage that I wondered why in the hell I added it to the SHOCKtober schedule. In those five minutes, there was one exorcism boob on display (because...of course) and two sex boobs and a "cool" "rock n roll" credit sequence. Look, boobs are great, and I am obviously very cool (mullet and Hawaiian shirts, hello) and the Joan Jett version of "I Love Rock n Roll" is pretty much my life story. But the first five minutes of Devil Seed gave me a very bad feeling, and I knew that I'd made a huge mistake. And when you realize that early on in a movie that you've made a huge mistake, well, it sets a certain tone for the evening. A tone of DOOM.

After a night at the bar, some college girl and her drunk roommate (fuck learning the names of anyone or anything, my life essences are draining away) stop by a psychic's place for a palm reading. For some reason, some college girl becomes possessed.

We know she's possessed because totally weird things start to happen: items move around on their own, weird doodles appear in her books, she's fondled by invisible hands as she sleeps, she says inappropriate things, and children look at her. We're subjected to countless conversations that are either

"You don't remember doing that? You totally did that."
"No, I don't remember."
(continues for five minutes)

or

"What's the matter?"
"I feel like I'm going crazy!"
(continues for five minutes)

Things sort of escalate. We find out that Some College Girl is a virgin, and if you think, "Oh, so the word "seed" in Devil Seed...I guess Satan wants to plant a baby garden!" then you know what is up. Some College Girl gets occasional corn teeth (duh, of course she does, she's possessed) and I guess she's raped by Satan and like an hour in there is another pair of boobs–shower boobs this time, but they're the same boobs as the sex boobs so I don't know if they really count toward a final tally, for those of you out there on Boob Watch.

None of this isn't the same thing we've seen done better at least ten to the tenth times, you know? And when I say "the same thing", I mean that Devil Seed actually decided to be be the Dollar Tree Exorcist and give us a bargain basement spider walk and pee on the floor scene. I felt...why, I felt indignant. I mean, how fucking dare you, Devil Seed? At that point, I wanted to fight this movie. Like physically. I wanted to get all Krystle vs Alexis on Dynasty and grab Devil Seed by the hair and throw it in the fucking pool. Fuck this movie!

Although I have to admit, this made me laugh for several minutes, and I rewound it many times, so my time spent with Devil Seed wasn't a complete loss.

Look, if you want to know how fucking janky Devil Seed is without actually having to endure it, here you go.

from the (useless) prologue:

from the end credits:

Is it 1972 or 1970? If you can't even give a shit enough to keep your own stupid timeline straight, Devil Seed, then why should I care? And I will spare you the indignity of bringing up those all-cap names. WHY ARE THEY--oh wait, I'm sparing you.

To anyone out there who actually watched this pile because it was a part of SHOCKtober, I am truly sorry. Self, I am sorry. I absolutely regret it, but we must move on! We cannot wallow in the misery this wretched film has shat upon us. We're only 1/3 of the way through the month, and I'm sure many more bad movies await!

why you gotta test me

Like most cranky, entitled horror fans, my relationship with remakes is a tempestuous one. The trend has been going on for so long–should a ten-plus-year trend actually be called a "trend"? or is it a "wave", maybe?–that it's just a way of life now. I've experienced nearly all the highs, lows, and creamy middles that remakes can bring and I've been left numb. I'm good at ignoring movies and the such if I'm not interested in them, and of course there's that ol' chestnut of an argument: well, a remake doesn't take away from or change the original you love so much, so what's the harm? (The counter to this, of course, is that money spent on shitty remakes is money that could be spent on original stories, that's the harm. But let's let that lie for now.) I just can't get angry anymore. You wanna remake an already-good horror movie? Go for it. You wanna remake a remake? Like I give a shit.

BUT THEN.

There have been a few rumored remakes that angered up my blood (you're going to remake Suspiria come on now), sure, but beyond initial reports they just seemed to disappear. Then one day, a couple of years later "Hey, wasn't Michael Bay going to remake The Birds?" runs through your mind. You realize this has yet to be, and you immediately banish the thought forever in case a mere mental mention is enough to summon it. You know, like it's the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man or something.

The point of all this is, you guys I thought the HOW DARE YOU American remake of Martyrs was banished to the Cinematic Negative Zone of Really Fucking Bad Ideas, but now Bloody Disgusting reports that it's already finished. Filmed totally in secret! I'm not sure if that portends good or ill, but in this day and age of endless (pointless) set updates and photos and press releases, I'm shocked. In a good way.

But that's all you'll get from me, Martyrs remake! I'm putting away my wussy "wait and see, who knows, give everything a chance, maybe I'll like it" giant foam finger and replacing it with the one that says FUCK YOU. I'm going to get irrationally, pointlessly irritated about this because 1) come on, it's still a really fucking bad idea to remake Martyrs and you know it is, and 2) it's something to do.

Here are your new martyrs:

Apparently the one on the left (Bailey Noble) hails from True Blood, while the one on the right (Troian Bellisario) is on Pretty Little Liars. Look, I don't watch those shows so for all I know these women could be terrific actresses. All I know for sure is that names like "Bailey" and "Troian" make me feel old and scared.

And YES they look as uninteresting as slices of J Crew pretty white bread, so imagining them in fucking Martyrs is making my brain hurt. However! (What's this "however" shit? JUST BE IRRATIONALLY MEAN AND ANGRY.) Judging from "actress" headshot photos isn't really fair, and also let's not pretend that Mylene Jampanoi and Morjana Alaoui (OG MARTYRS 4 LYFE 5EVER) aren't like supermodel gorgeous. If I judged them the way I'm apparently judging these Designer Imposter Martyrs, I wouldn't have had faith in them, either, and we all know that's stupid.

Here's the thing: I know I'm going to have to see this remake. It's just too much to ignore, isn't it? It's such an outlandish notion, I simply must see how it turns out...because how do you remake Martyrs I have so many Martyrs feelings and YES I KNOW I've yet to write anything about it but it's very difficult for me to even think about trying to try to articulate those feelings okay I just aokjnlklkdnfldskndfdddddddddddddd

and...breathe...

*pshooooooo*

Hey, maybe the remake will finally get me past my write about Martyrs-block! Maybe that's the reason it exists. I guess we'll see. I'm really really going to try to go into it with as open a mind as possible (yeah right) and curb my urge to slap this remake right across its audacious face. RIGHT ACROSS IT I SAY.

Ah, sometimes irrational anger feels good, doesn't it? It's sure warming me up on this cold winter's day!

VHS Week Day 6: BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF (2001)

"Come on down to Video World! Where we really fucking want you to rewind your rentals!"

Once upon a time, I saw a trailer in a theatre. The names of film in the trailer and the feature I was there to see both escape me, but they're inconsequential. The trailer was big and flashy, full of explosions and movie stars and action and music razzle and dazzle! And when it was over, I turned to my friend, shrugged a shoulder, and simply said "Nah."

It occurred to me later on how sort of sad it was to give such a brief dismissal to a film so many people had worked so very hard on. Hundreds of people! Hundreds of hours! Millions of dollars! Blood, sweat, tears, and who knows what other bodily fluids went into the thing, and when it was offered up for judgment...nah. Cast aside with a sneer and a shrug.

I think of that little scenario often. I definitely thought of it after watching Brotherhood of the Wolf, because here was this massive fantasy epic historical razzle dazzle effects-laden action thriller (I mean, you can just picture the "SEXY AND STYLISH!" - cool movies online.com poster-ready pullquotes while taking in this movie, I swear) and when it was over...nah.

WHEN IT WAS FINALLY FUCKING OVER I MEAN, because my gaaahd is this thing bloated like a 10-day-old river corpse. At the hour mark, I didn't think I was going to make it, especially when I realized there were nearly 90 more minutes to go. What a relief it was when those credits rolled! For fuck's sake, it felt endless.

What I am saying is, Brotherhood of the Wolf and I didn't really get along. I will cop to this mostly being my fault, however. I admit, I had a patriarchy-sized chip on my shoulder from the get-go because what the hell: the brotherhood is all about awesome wolves while the sisterhood gets some traveling fucking pants? How is this fair at all? What a world, what a world.

More than that, however, I went into this expecting some kind of werewolf movie. Yes, it's true! I had no idea what it was about, despite the fact that the videotape has been in my house for about five years. I just saw the world "wolf" in the title and assumed! My bad, my bad, y'all. It's not the first time this has happened, either. The Wolf of Wall Street and Airwolf were also big disappointments, but I guess it's on me to pay more attention to things. Or any attention, I guess.

Had I known, I wouldn't have wondered why there were so many kung fu fights and why the "monster" wasn't the focus. I still would have been angry at all the gawdawful slo-mo happening every ten seconds, because wow, way to take an effect and run it straight into the ground, Christophe Gans.

But, I mean, come on.

Look, I could have done with about an hour less of Brotherhood of the Wolf. I feel like it's taken enough of my life away already, so I don't want to spend any more of my precious, limited lifeforce telling you anything substantial such as what actually happens in the film. Nor will I give any reasoned criticisms of it. You'll get nothing more from me, movie, nothing! I'm not even going to finish writing the last sentence, that's how strongly I fee

VHS Week Day 4: LEVIATHAN (1989)

Well, I suppose I was expecting perfect for VHS kind of fun sometimes but mostly garbage when I popped in Leviathan and that's exactly what I got. It's nice when life works out that way, isn't it? Everything is tied up with a nice little bow and you feel the certain satisfaction that a job well done brings, even though you didn't do anything. So soothing, so soothing.

All that said, holy fucking shit there were parts of this movie that were excruciating to sit through. At the 15 minute mark, in fact, I considered throwing in the towel and swapping this shit out for just about anything (but not you again, Shadow Dancing...you go sit in the corner and think about what you've done). What got the flames of my ire fire burning so bright? This guy did:

"Wowee wow wow! Honk honk! ArOOOOgah! Humina humina wolf whistle! Hatchi matchi! Boi-oi-oi-oi-oi-nnn-nggg!"

That screencap tells you everything you need to know about the character called "Sixpack", as if his name wouldn't do the job in and of itself. Sixpack is an underwater miner who sexually harasses his female co-miners to the point of...well, okay. Have you ever seen one of those anti-sexual harassment videos that places of business have to show new employees? The ones with actors playing out various scenarios that are so completely over-the-top you just have to laugh because humans don't really interact that way? Sixpack is the awful dude in all those videos times a billion. He gropes, he stares, he touches, he makes lewd comments, he grabs, he busts out Penthouse at the dinner table...I mean, he's a caricature beyond belief. I imagine that if poor Daniel Stern felt the need to ask director George Cosmatos about his motivation, the answer would have been a simple, "You're an asshole."

While there are still Sixpack-esque characters in movies today–Diet Sixpacks, if you will–they're a lot less common and they don't tend to harass or objectify women to this extent anymore. Wow, we really have come a long way, baby!

Luckily, Sixpack is killed off fairly quickly (OH WOW SPOILER ALERT), because of course he is, because he's the asshole. Therefore, I was able to watch the rest of Leviathan without having to worry about blood pressure spikes and/or rage-induced hulk-outs.

Oh yeah, "underwater miners". Let's just sum this shit up with some math, okay? Everybody loves math.

It's so Alien underwater it's nuts. A bunch of working-class everyfolk only care about getting paid! A thing that turns into a penis-worm-looking thing is brought aboard the ship and kills kills kills! Computers must be consulted! A sweaty black dude wears a headband! Ooze oozes through metal grates! The two female characters are "strong" (she starts "astronaut training" two days after this job ends) and "not strong" (she cries)! There's a heartless company overseeing the entire operation, and they only care about the bottom line!

Leviathan isn't terrible, per se. Faint praise, I know, but it's not as if I went into this expecting a masterpiece. The schlock in between "everything until Sixpack dies" and "did you really just end this movie by having a woman get punched in the face" is occasionally gross and somewhat enjoyable. Ultimately, though, you'd have a better time sticking your feet in a bucket of water and watching Alien.

Nope, still the worst

I know that y'all know that I love The Haunting (1963). I mean, I've said it so many times that even I'm sick of hearing it. It's like, man, we get it, if you could marry The Haunting you would, now let's all move on.

I also know that y'all also know that I loathe the 1999 remake about as much as I adore the original. Why, I have such a vendetta against Jan de Bont's The Haunting, you'd think that it chews its gum too loudly or it murdered my family. Why, I was just talking about it fairly recently!

Last night, however, I had a thought: what if I'm being too hard on it? Is it really so bad, or am I just holding on to a 15-year grudge for no reason? Is there hope that The Haunting '99 and I could ever come to some sort of a ceasefire? To find out the answer to all of these questions, I did something I never imagined that I'd do: I watched it again. I watched it again and tried to keep an open mind, tried not to compare it to the 1963 masterpiece, tried to treat it as its own thing, tried to enjoy it.

I tried.

And guess what? I failed because this movie is so terrible! I found myself completely unable to stop comparing it to the original (and to the book both films are based on, Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House) because it's such a...such a...twisted perversion of that film that I can't ignore all of the differences, the oh so wrongness of it. This movie is obscene like that defiled statue in The Exorcist. It's the worst stereotype of an American: it's fat, loud, and stupid. It's an abomination! I've said it before and I'll say it again, because after watching The Haunting again, these sentiments are forever sealed in my heart place: If it were up to me, though, every copy of it would be placed in a big pile, and then the pile would be burned down, and then the ground would be sown with salt.

All that said, the film is not without its highlights. Let us peruse them!

1. Lili Taylor, because Lili Taylor.

2. Virginia Madsen! I'd totally forgotten she makes an appearance, but isn't she just the best? (yes)

3. This guy on the left, who has one word of dialogue.

4. Luke gets fucking decapitated in front of her, and Eleanor responds by calmly saying "Oh no."

5. Goodness gracious but Catherine Zeta-Jones is so pretty.

6. Eleanor's morphing teeth

7. Eleanor's hair vagina

That's it! Those are the highlights. Well, okay, so maybe Eleanor calling Hugh Crain "grandpa" could be a highlight but my god that is just so so so despicable, I can't. I can't.

When it comes to movies, music, any of that stuff, I tend to have a "live and let die" attitude. Everyone likes different things! The heart wants what the heart wants! There's no accounting for taste! You do you, girl! But for fuck's sake, if you think this is a good movie or- Charles Nelson Reilly forfend- you think The Haunting '99 is better than The Haunting '63...you really need to see your doctor because there is absolutely something wrong with you. It could be a blood clot, demonic possession, or worse and I worry about you, get it checked out.

ki ki ki meh meh meh

Came across this yesterday and I was so shocked I almost spat my leftover Thanksgiving stuffing all over my computer screen.

Can you believe this shit? Mind you, I thought that the remake was a big waste of natural resources- no wait...actually, I pretty much wanted to set it on fire- but I'm surprised that instead of hopping down the sequel trail, they're re-reboot-ening.

But then, on the older, wiser, perhaps more boring hand...I find that I do not care. You see, I no longer live in Los Angeles, so my days of press screenings and free screenings and movie openings are past. Having to pay for something, well, that makes me a far more discerning viewer because the idea of spending some of my precious few dollars on another remake of Friday the 13th makes me want to puke. I'll have to wait for it to show up at Redbox or Netflix or something, and I have a feeling there's always going to be something I'd rather watch. But who knows! I've done worse things in the interests of science, so maybe I'll take a reckless plunge when the time comes.

Moreso, however, it got me thinking about slashers in general, their place in the horror movie pantheon, and how much appeal they hold for me these days. Heck, I started Final Girl to talk exclusively about 'em! Now here I am, unable to achieve a metaphorical boner of love or hate for the idea of a new Friday the 13th.

I suppose it's a combination of things. Tastes change, after all, and right now my horror tastes generally run in directions other than "young attractive people are stabbed in creative ways". I say "generally" because hey, every once in a while a new slasher flick comes along and I really dig it. And, of course, I still adore the slashers of mah yoot and indulge in them on the regular. Geez, I wrote a comic about 'em! I guess I've simply come to a place in life where I embrace the freedom of not giving a shit about stuff like this. Or, at least, my Internet Anger tank is running on fumes, so it'd take something particularly heinous- say, a remake of Martyrs starring Lady Gaga and Kim Kardashian- to get me all riled up. Even then, though, I think I'd run out of steam pretty quickly. After all, I've seen some of the crappiest remakes to ever crap a crap, and yet...here I am. My love for the original films continues unabated. The moon continues to wax and wane, my haircuts continue to mystify even myself. I just don't see the point of frothing over it beyond an initial ARE YOU KIDDING ME NOOOOOO. Then it's back to Thanksgiving leftovers, you know?

Two sentences and a verdict, once more!

I've done this sort of thing a few times before, wherein I watch a bunch of movies but then I don't review them and the movies I've watched but haven't discussed pile up so I write these itty-bitty reviewettes and everyone is satisfied because they're easy to bake and easy to digest. Like bran muffins! Maybe, I don't know. If I get a muffin I rarely get bran because life is too short, you know? And I know they're "good" for "you", but let's face it. The amount of time added on to my life by solely choosing bran muffins would probably work out to, like, ten minutes. I'd rather die ten minutes sooner and eat a goddamn corn muffin or a cranberry muffin whenever I feel like eating a muffin, which is not very often to begin with so why are we even talking about it?

The Awakening (2011, Nick Murphy)

 

In 1920s London, Florence Cathcart goes about exposing hoaxes and debunking paranormal phenomena. She's called to a country boarding school to do her thing, but what if, this time, the hoaxes are real? Meaning, you know, they're not hoaxes...they're ghosts.

Two sentences: Rebecca Hall is terrific as the arrogant Florence Cathcart, and there's atmosphere to spare throughout the empty rooms of the enormous boarding school. Ultimately, though, the film collapses in the final act as writer/director Murphy feels the need to explain everything in painstaking detail.

The verdict: Worth a watch, but bear in mind that The Awakening is more of a drama with some horror sprinkled in than a straight-up fright fest.

The Skeleton Key (2005, Iain Softley)

"She mustn't find out that I've been listening to 'Dear Mr. Jesus' again!"

Hospice nurse Caroline Ellis (Kate Hudson) takes a job at a mansion in the backwater swampland of Louisiana to care for an elderly gentleman, hoodoo hijinks ensue.

Two sentences: I was surprised by how much I enjoyed this film, as it wasn't the CGI-n-jump-scare-laden crapfest I was anticipating. It's not the best thing ever and it's more plot-driven than character-driven, but as I said when discussing it on the Final Girl Facebook page: if you can't appreciate a homicidal, shotgun-wielding Gena Rowlands chasing Kate Hudson through a swamp during a thunderstorm, then what's the point of anything?

The verdict: Try it, you might like it! 

Munger Road (2011, Nicholas Smith)

Some jerk teenagers go looking for paranormal activity on the reputedly haunted Munger Road. Meanwhile, Sheriff Bruce Davison patrols the town looking for an escapee from a nearby mental hospital.

Two sentences: Get out your pencils, kids, it's math time. (Halloween + Fingerprints) x ("based on true events") / Are you fucking kidding me with that ending? = Munger Road

The verdict: No no no go fuck yourself no get out of my face no NO.

Don't Be Afraid of the Dark (2010, Troy Nixey)

 

In the magical place called "Rhode Island", a young girl discovers that the creatures living beneath the sprawling manse where she's staying are pure eeeeeevil.

Two sentences: I (sadly) wasn't all that enamored with the original 1973 made-for-TV film and I thought it could benefit from a remake. Though this one is awfully computer, it's overall enjoyable and the creatures are suitably vicious and nasty.

The verdict: Another "Hey, I thought that was going to be terrible and it wasn't!" flick. And say what you will about Katie Holmes, she certainly has very nice hair. But why don't they call it Do Be Afraid of the Dark? The dark is where all the bad shit happens!

Lovely Molly (2011, Eduardo Sanchez)

Newlyweds Molly and Tim move into Molly's childhood home and she soon finds herself haunted...but is it all in her mind?

Two sentences: The DVD cover is a Photoshop turd, but Sanchez's Blair Witch Project pedigree led me to giving this one a go and I'm glad I did. Questions may ultimately go unanswered, but the ride is terrifically creepy and Gretchen Lodge is fantastic as the tortured Molly.

The verdict: Yes, yes, a thousand times yes, I really dug this underrated little gem. It'll certainly benefit from multiple viewings as there's a lot to absorb. And lawd-a-mighty, it may be a small touch, but I especially love that it features characters who are regular people working real regular jobs, not movie regular jobs, you know?

amazon one-star reviews: THE HILLS RUN RED

Hello, my friends, and welcome to an all-new feature here at the good ol' FG. Because I only have the smartest (and most attractive) readers, you doubtless surmised from the post title that the new feature is called amazon one-star reviews. In this scintillating project, I'll highlight...wait for it...one-star horror movie reviews verbatim from amazon.com- reviews for films considered to be genre classics, pieces of crap, and everything in between. Whatever catches my eye here where I live, which is on the razor's edge of danger, intrigue, and browsing The Internet. Why am I doing this? I don't know. But! we can always debate these 1-star reviews: is the reviewer actually on to something whilst skewering beloved films? Did he or she really watch the same movie the rest of us did? It will sure be fun to find out.

Let's start things off with the 2009 direct-to-DVD slasher flick The Hills Run Red.

 

Fun fact! Prior to the film's release, I was asked by a horror publication to attend a screening and give my opinion of what I saw- not to immediately review it, just to give it a thumbs up or down. Why? Because the director is a "friend" of not only the publication but also the horror community in general, and therefore reviewing his films is, I guess, tricky business.

I reported back that I thought it was terrible and I'd give it a negative review and should I go ahead and start writing? I simply got an "okay, no don't write anything" or something along those lines in response, and that was the last I heard of the matter. Fast forward to the DVD's release and sure enough, there's a review, written by someone else. A positive review- not glowing, mind, but still positive. Pretty gross, right? Right. And that's what can go on behind the scenes of...you know, stuff and things and what the cool kids really get up to sometimes with that stuff and those things. Well, at least you don't have to worry about that here, as none of the cool kids in the horror community give a rat's ass about what I say here and since no one pays me for Final Girl, I can actually give, you know, my honest opinion about movies.

Anyway. Here's today's one-star review!

This movie did not make any since at all, I did not like the movie it was not even scary at all but that's how everybody makes their money some how, I watched the movie 2 times try to make since out of it but it was still the same, so I don't think no one should buy this movie I'm telling the truth it is not any gd at all thanks a lot.

So there you have it. What do you think of The Hills Run Red? Do you think it made any since? Is it any gd? Weigh in!

Film Club: Children of the Corn (2009)

Brothers, sisters, fellow behind-the-rows-walkers, I am so pleased to have experienced The Corn-ening 2: The Re-Corn-ening with you all. For while you were all incredibly supportive throughout that long and mildly traumatic day, there really is nothing quite like joining hands and jumping into that giant cornhole together. And so,

I went into Children of the Corn '09 with an open mind and a heart free of doubt. Okay, that's not true. I had plenty of doubts! Of course I did. I don't think I heard one good thing about this movie in the days leading up to this Film Club gathering. Still, as has happened plenty of times in the past, I gave a shrug, said "How bad can it be?"- after all, the original version is enjoyable but could undoubtedly be improved upon- and gave it a go.

Oh my goodness, IT'S SO BAD.

If you haven't seen it, I will quickly sum it up for you so you never have to subject yourself.

For 45 minutes, these two people argue:

For 30 minutes, people run through corn:

Besides some assorted fuckery that takes up the rest of the run time, that's pretty much it for this crapfest of a flick. Mind, said assorted fuckery is really something to behold! Behold:

• Burt goes on a kid-killing spree during 'Nam flashbacks! I guess he spent a sizable amount of time crawling around cornfields whilst battling the Viet Cong.
• "The time for fertilization is come." You guys. YOU GUYS. Two of the older kids strip down and do it- AND YES I MEAN "IT"- right there in the Corn Church in front of the rest of the Corn Children, who get really excited as the humping goes on. I am unsure why the filmmakers decided to subject us to this extended scene, but let me just say: there is life before you watch a bunch of kids watch other kids have sex, and there is life after. STAY IN THE LIFE BEFORE.
• There are little crucified corn cobs, and the crucified corn cobs have faces. That's actually one for the 'plus' column, can't lie.

Given that in the original film, Vicky (Linda Hamilton) was only in the film to harass Burt about getting married and, later, to be rescued, I thought the character would be improved in the remake. Or, at the least, evolved a bit, much as Barbra in the remake of Night of the Living Dead (although you know I loves me some OG Barbra, haters to the left). Instead...man, I don't know what the hell they were thinking with New Vicky. Actually, "I don't know what the hell they were thinking" entered my thoughts a shit ton during this movie, but Vicky is just THE END. All she does is bitch and yell at Burt- and I do mean that's all she does. I don't think there's ever been a less sympathetic character in a film before, and I've seen movies featuring all kinds of monsters, ghouls, and the occasional Hitler. She has no redeeming qualities. You do not care if she dies- in fact, you'll likely spend the first 45 minutes of the movie wishing that she would, horribly and painfully. Burt doesn't fare any better, but it seems that the director gave him a few notes beyond "Okay, now...be unrelentingly shrill!" There is no one to root for in Children of the Corn, and so what's the point?

As I said, there are plenty of other head-scratchers throughout. One of the greatest strengths of the original film is the opening, wherein the children of Gatlin quietly murder all of the adults in town. We don't know their motivations; we only know that they are silent and deadly. You know, like...ninjas. In the remake, a child preacher is all "We have to kill the adults because God said so!" and the kids are all "Yeah!" and then it's 12 years later. Why excise such a powerful scene? I guess the people behind the remake are jerks.

Speaking of jerks, what of the HJIC (Head Jerk in Charge), Isaac?

Terrible. Terrible! And I don't mean that in a JR Ewing gee, I love to hate him kind of way. I mean it in a he's not at all threatening, and how could he be the leader of these jerk corn children when he's not at all charismatic or powerful, and couldn't they have found a better actor because this kid is the total pits and monotonously mumbles through all of his lines, and also what is up with his hair he's got a frosted blow out going on under that oversized novelty hat kind of way.

We can take solace in the fact that the last bit, about the hair, can be explained. As the credits scrolled by, I saw that the styles come courtesy of Jose Eber. Jose Eber! If you don't know who that is, then first, feast your eyes:

And second, this blurb from his Wiki page tells you all you need to know:

...José created a sexy, carefree unstructured look that was easier to maintain and which instantly became "de rigueur" for an entire generation. His first celebrity client was Farrah Fawcett, followed by Cher, Jaclyn Smith, Elizabeth Taylor,and the Who's Who of Hollywood.

Why Jose Eber was called upon to style the Coifs of the Corn, I have no idea, but bless the heart of the person who signed that check.

Why I'm supposed be scared to find Isaac directing the Children with some rooftop YMCA bullshit, we may never know.

All in all, the best thing I can say about Children of the Corn 2009 is that I'm glad I didn't watch it during the original Corn-ening, because I would have watched it last and it would have ruined my day. Watching it on its own, sure, it ruined my day (it's really really really bad), but it certainly didn't sully my memories of, you know, remote-controlled electric wheelchairs or stop motion He Who Walks Behind the Rowseses. It was a self-contained misery that others got to suffer through as well, hooray!

----------------------------------------------------
Show these Film Club Coolies some love!
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Nilbog Milk
Modern Superior
Vegan Voorhees
The Deadly Doll's House of Horror Nonsense
Life Between Frames
Zombie Cupcake
Scarina's Scary Vault of Scariness

Once More Unto the Saw

So have you seen the trailer for the forthcoming Texas Chainsaw 3D yet? Well no more excuses, you...here it is.



What a brave attempt at filmmaking from Lionsgate, the way they recycled all the exact same shit we've been seeing in Chainsaw-related movies since 1974 but added that extra dimension to the proceedings.

Why am I even talking about this? I'm not going to make any effort to see it. I gave up on modern-era Chainsaw flicks after The Beginning, which made me want to run face-first into a swarm of bees wielding very tiny chainsaws of their own.

Upon viewing the trailer for the first time, the only thing that ran through my mind was "Why would I ever watch this instead of the original movie?"...but now I find my blood getting oddly fired up about it. Maybe because giving this trailer the time of day again just highlights the laziness of it all, the propensity for mainstream horror to simply go to the same well AGAIN even though it dried up 25 years ago rather than take a chance on something new.

Wow, this trailer has me feeling all curmudgeonly! And old! It's like the total opposite of a Crystal Pepsi.

BUT WAIT. Just a few hours after watching that TC3D trailer and feeling all I'm getting too old for this shit, my eyes meet the trailer for Mama, produced by Guillermo Del Toro and a-comin' in January. The creepiness factor is high, and I am already all over it. I feel so young again!

Eh, go fall in a hole

The Canyon (2009) does for riding a mule into the Grand Canyon what Open Water did for getting stranded in the middle of the ocean! It does for riding a mule into the Grand Canyon what Frozen did for getting stranded on a ski lift! riding a mule into the Grand Canyon what Jaws did for trying to kill a shark that is much larger than you are! Watching The Canyon did for me what punching myself in the face also does for me- it made me want to find something else to do!

Lori (Yvonne Strahovski) and Nick (Eion Bailey), a couple of milquetoast newlyweds, can't secure the backcountry permit required to ride some mules down into the Grand Canyon. Because this is an opportunity that may never come again (??), they decide to follow a grizzled, alcoholic guide who offers to take them since he has a permit, by which he means he does not have a permit.

A day into the trip, a rattlesnake bite means the end of the guide. The mules done run off, so Lori and Nick have to find a way out on their own. After a few more days of wandering, a foot amputation, and multiple wolf attacks, we the audience (or, I suppose, me the audience) try to pretend we don't know that there aren't any fucking Timberwolves in the Grand Canyon and that at that time of year in the Canyon, our heroes would have died of dehydration long before the movie was over. That might have been nice, because it would have spared us the dreadful dialogue.

For a film purportedly about, you know, survival and man versus nature and all that shit, there's not much tension. The attitudes of these two doofuses aren't appropriate enough for a life or death situation; I suppose their incessant joking and light-hearted banter are meant to make each other feel better, but, you know. A little anger or panic once in a while miiiight be a natural reaction to being stranded at the bottom of the Grand Canyon with no fucking food or water.

The scenery is nice (duh), but otherwise I say skip it, skip it, skip it. Play Mass Effect 2 or watch Chuck to get a dose of Strahovski, read Over the Edge: Death in Grand Canyon, and watch a National Geographic special on the park instead. Or simply go there yourself. Just bring lots of water and don't be a moron about it.

an open letter

I posted about this over yonder on the Pretty-Scary forums, but I think it bears mentioning here. You see, I am what you might call "irked". I said:

I'm fucking tired of indie (and even not-so-indie) horror filmmakers acting as if they're OWED space on my site, as if I should feel privileged to have the opportunity to post about their work. I don't mean people offering to buy ad space, I mean people sending me a "post about this!" message. What they want, basically, is free advertising.

I run a blog, not a news site. I don't post about every new thing that comes down the line. I don't make any money off of Final Girl. I don't run ANY kind of advertising on it, including Google AdSense. Although money is nice, I like my site this way. A couple of times I've been approached by video game companies who offer free games in exchange for a post- I've done this, and in those posts I'm very up front about whoring my site out for a free video game. I'd whore out my cats for free video games! I'd whore out your cats for free video games.

But when I get an email (or, worse yet, a comment on a post, as I did today) that isn't even a press release- something that just says, basically, "Great blog! I would love for you to feature my movie." it really rubs me the wrong way. Should it? I don't know. I hate the fake praise, and the lack of personalization. At least SPAM spam is amusing- this is just gross. I mean, NO SHIT you would like me to feature your $5 movie. Again, it's free advertising. I know it's tough out there for the little guy to get attention, but at least send a legit fucking press release- it's a bit more professional. But don't fucking TELL me to post about your crap. Really, it makes me want to give them NO publicity, and I want to ignore the movie itself completely.

A comment?? At least take the time to find my email address, which is linked on my site.

Now, let me say this: I really do understand indie filmmakers (or their cronies) sending out press releases or emails to draw attention to their work. If you don't put the word out yourself, you run the risk that no one will ever see your website or your trailer or what have you. I get it. Shoot me an email, by all means. I'll check it out, and if it's something super awesome or something I dig or I want to post about it, believe me, I'll post about it. I've gotten many, many emails, however, that say little more than "Post about this!", as if I have to. Guess what? I don't have to. 

I got fucking hounded by some douchey indie-producer about posting a trailer for some movie, to the point where they actually pulled out the "These other blogs (yes, they named names) have posted about it and we'd REALLY APPRECIATE it if you would post about it, too." card, as if peer pressure would kick me into action. It didn't. 

I like spreading the word. I like the idea that I might be able to introduce anyone reading this to a movie or filmmaker. It's good. It's "community" and good karma and all that shit. But honestly, I'm not going to give free publicity to people who expect it. I don't care if every other blog in the horrorverse posts about it. THIS IS NOT A NEWS SITE. I'm not in this for blog hits or to get "in" with filmmakers or what the fuck ever. Point me to your work, and if I want to write about it, I will. End of story.

But for fuck's sake, do it in an email. If you leave a random comment on a post saying "Here's my work, here's my website, great blog!", I will not publish it. Unless I'm drunk, or in one of those "Eh, what's the harm?" moods...then, 20 minutes later, I'll remember that you're being a leechy a-hole and I'll delete the comment. Finding my email address, which is linked on this site, is not difficult. 

I bid you good day.

Wicked Lake: A Haiku

I'd seen it in stores
but had not read about it-
I was curious.

Written by the guy
who wrote Going to Pieces,
it had potential-

-but then, ev'rything
has potential, no matter
who's behind the script.

Still, I put it on
my Brain List of stuff to see
one of these damn days.

(also: Audition)
The opportunity came
this weekend, thanks to

Netflix streaming (thanks
Darren!), quite possibly the
best thing in the world.

Wicked Lake began
in an art class. Art students
are quite annoying

(trust me, I was one)
but this guy Caleb was, like,
ULTRA-annoying.

Twitchy, affected-
how could I watch this dude for
ninety minutes? Huh?

His family was worse-
like Leatherface's family,
with 60 percent

more retard, more perv,
more ridiculous...yet far
less interesting.

You may find "retard"
to be offensive; sometimes
it's appropriate.

Anyway, a bunch
of lesbian witches or
something head off to

a cabin for some
weekend lesbian antics.
They make out and serve

to tease the hillbillies
at a gas station; they are
unremarkable

save for their overt
sexuality, because
that makes women strong.

Ever notice that?
I've no problem with sexy
female characters,

but when there's nothing
else to them it seems a l'il
silly. And boring.

Anywho, shortly
after the ladies get to
the cabin, Twitchy

and his family
show up to get their rape on,
'cause that's what men do.

Ever notice that?
How in these movies it's a
given that men will

rape a woman just
because? Maybe someday a
horror movie will

examine that- but
Wicked Lake is not that film.
Instead, there's a long

period of time
where there's just the threat of rape,
and it's so boring.

I'm not a fan of
rape in movies, but come on.
Holding these women

captive while pointing
knives at them and threatening
violence makes for a

rather dull time. Shit
or get off the pot, you know?
I was getting sleepy.

Then, The Internet
intervened. Netflix cut out
and the movie stopped.

I thought to myself,
"I could start the film again,
but, I mean, really.

There are better ways
I can spend my time. Better
movies I can watch...

...or even staring
at the wall, that would be much
better than this crap."

And so, I did not
start Wicked Lake up again.
Maybe it would have

gotten good. Maybe,
but I don't really care much.
The first half hour was

miserable, and
life is too damn short. Naked
lesbian witches,

Going to Pieces,
none of it matters if the
movie just plain sucks.