I've seen stuff!

Good news, my dudes: yes, I may look it on the outside and feel it on the inside, but as it turns out I am not actually dead! I've been doing stuff and things, writing stuff and things about horror games over at Kotaku, eating stuff and things...just lots of stuff and things. "Is this pertinent?" you may ask.

I may respond, "What, like you have anything better to do than read my rambling nonsense? But also yes, it's kind of pertinent because some of those stuffs and things I've been doing are horror movies."

Then I would hasten to add "I mean I've been watching horror movies, not doing them. That would be impractical and likely unhygienic."

"Yes," you might reply. "I figured."

Anyway, rather than recount our entire imaginary conversation, why don't I recount some of MY OPINIONS regarding some of the movies I've watched over the last eight years (or however long it's been since I last posted)?

Blood Diner (1987)

Now that I've finally seen Blood Diner, I can shuffle off to that great blood diner in the sky knowing that my time here on Earth was...not necessarily well-spent, I suppose, but it was definitely spent.

You will have a lot of questions before, during, and after you've seen Blood Diner. The biggest question of them all, however, is "Wait, did I see Blood Diner?" for even as the end credits roll, you will not be sure. This is because Blood Diner isn't a movie you watch...Blood Diner is an experience that happens to you and sometimes at you.

This horror-comedy about a couple of wackadoo brothers attempting to resurrect a goddess for some reason (I think that's what it's about?) exists entirely in its own universe...and I don't mean that in some "Marvel Universe" or "Star Wars Whatever" way. I mean its "universe" is solely the mind of director Jackie Kong's made manifest and the center of that universe cannot hold. There are no rules whatsoever; people do not act like people do, but sometimes not-people do act like people do. I know that doesn't make sense, but when that statement is refracted through the Blood Diner prism it kind of does. The whole movie is like that, a cacophonous assault on your eyes and ears so jam-packed with what-the-fuckery in every inch of the frame, you will wonder–even as you're dazed and dizzy–just how this movie happened. You will wonder what it's supposed to mean. You will come out the other side–if you come out the other side all all–wondering who you are and questioning your reality.

So yes, I loved it. I think? It's not good, but it's also a blessing. I think? I laughed unironically. I think? Blood Diner is perhaps a bit like Schrödinger's Horror Movie, as it simultaneously exists and doesn't exist. It's the only movie I've ever seen that I'll never forget, but I also can't remember anything about it.

Veronica (2017)

So there I was, just a-loafin' on the couch and a-scrollin' through the Netflix when I spot Veronica, the tale of a Ouija Board gone wrong but a possession gone oh so right. It's written and directed by Paco Plaza, one of the creators behind [REC] and since I fucking love [REC] forever and always, I decided to give it a shot. This was unusual for me, as my usual solo Netflix experience is "browse for 45 minutes, add 12 things I'll never watch to my queue, turn off Netflix." Sometimes that last part is "put on an episode of a reality show about prison life and fall asleep fifteen minutes later." This time, though, I was excited enough to follow through on the whole "movie watching" thing.

Veronica is...fine. While I did not wish that I'd opted to fall asleep to an episode of Lock Up or Lockdown or Lock This Way instead, I was decidedly underwhelmed. It's a veritable checklist of "spooky stuff" every horror fan has seen before: there's a creepy nun, a mouth that opens unnaturally wide thanks to CGI, a shadowy figure standing in the corner, a "based on a true story" angle, blah blah blah. It's perfectly serviceable, to be sure, in particular the strong performances from the children in the cast. But I hoped for more thanks to the [REC] pedigree and my fondness for a possession tale.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I got a text from a friend a couple of days later asking if I'd seen it yet. Apparently it'd been making the rounds on the social medias, with folks claiming it's so puke-in-your-pants scary that no one could finish watching it. Are you imagining my surprise? It was a big one.

Look, I love a bit of William Castle chutzpah, a touch of Herschell Gordon Lewis moxie. You know, that good ol' fashioned horror movie barfbaggery wherein you need an insurance policy lest a film scare you right to death. Hype posts on Faceplaces ain't that to me, though. In this era of Russian bots and FAKE NEWS and endless trolling everywhere, it simply feels like another lie on the fire. Because it's a lie! Veronica might be the scariest thing you've ever seen if you've never seen another horror movie. And you might not finish watching it if you decide to, like, go to bed instead.

Dead Awake (2016)

Oh dear me.

The phenomenon known as sleep paralysis (that state between sleeping and waking where you can't speak or move but you're totally aware of things happening around you) is terrifying...but not terrifying enough, says Dead Awake. What's even way more terrifyinger is, like, a "hag" who comes to you seeking skin moisturizer kills you when you're in the grips of sleep paralysis.

I mean. This is not a good movie, but then I don't know what I was expecting. I only watched it because I saw that it stars Jocelin "House of the Devil" Donahue as twins. Twins! Who could resist a horror movie with twins? But trust me, these are no fun time horror twins à la the dueling Daphne Zunigas in The Initiation. These twins are not having fun at all, a fact owing largely to how you can tell throughout that Jocelin Donahue knew this movie would end up a big pile. Boy, was she right!

Jocelin Donahue deserves better. Friend o' Final Girl Brea Grant deserves better. Swimfan deserves better. I know that I for sure deserve better!

Editor's note: I know that Jesse Bradford is not the swim fan in Swimfan, rather he is the swimmer. Still, when he popped up on screen I said "Hey! Swimfan!" so there you go.

Editor's second note: Also I know that "House of the Devil" is (probably) not Jocelin Donahue's nickname, but since that's where you probably know her from I put it in quotes like that. I am just saying.

Deadly Eyes (1982)

Ohhhh baby, now we're talkin'. Here's a movie I deserve!

Before I talk about what makes Deadly Eyes so great, let me clear the air: the giant rats of Deadly Eyes do not, in fact, have deadly eyes. They're just big rats, and as such they have deadly mouths. While Deadly Mouths is a more truthful title, it's not as good as Deadly Eyes, however, so here we are. I want total transparency here.

Now then. As science and math have proven time and time again, contaminated grain + rats = large rats with a taste for human flesh. That's just nature, and that's really all there is to this movie. So what makes it a superlative animals run amok flick? Two things:

1. In much of the film, the rats are played by dachshunds in rat costumes.

I'll get to #2 after you've had some time to recover from that information.

2. No one is safe from these hungry rats! Deadly Eyes does not discriminate, nor does it give a fuck. Are you an old? CHOMP. Are you a toddler? CHOMP. Are you a main character? CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP. Deadly Eyes does what it wants, and what it wants is to eat everyone without prejudice nor a lick o' CGI in sight. It's so great.

The Nest (1988)

Watched The Nest the same night I watched Deadly Eyes and had an inadvertent Lisa Langlois creature double feature, highly recommended.

As science and math have proven time and time again, biohazardous waste + cockroaches = cockroaches with not only a taste for human flesh, but also with the ability to somehow mutate their victims into cockroach-victim hybrids.

As you may have surmised, The Nest is not entirely serious. It's not necessarily a horror-comedy, but it is a Concorde Pictures/Corman production and it definitely leans into the campiness. It feels like a 1950s monster movie by way of 80s synthesizers and garishness. It's frequently gross, always ludicrous, and doesn't make a lick of sense, but it's pure drive-in style fun.

The poster, seen above, has always filled my mind with questions, none of which have really been answered after seeing the film. Still lingering in my brain:

Is that a giant cockroach? Or is it a very tiny woman? Am I supposed to be turned on by this image? It is everything wrong perfect and right with 1980s videocassette box aesthetics.

The Ritual (2017)

I don't know if The Ritual is actually super terrific or if I was high on too much Riunite but man, this shit did it for me! I was into it, my friends, cowering behind a blanket and feeling all kinds of tension. I was creeped out but good, like I haven't been in forever. This is some Blair Witch on steroids business and it worked: it's got woods, woods, and more woods; dark woods; scary stuff in said woods; a village in the woods full of creeps; some of the best creature design I've ever seen. Beyond that I don't want to give anything away, so let's just say that I love all of those things very much and I loved this movie very very much, a real gem. And you can trust my opinion on that: I have a horror blog!

Tragedy Girls (2017)

Another wee little gem, Tragedy Girls is to slasher flicks what Shaun of the Dead is to zombie flicks. Both a self-aware satire of and straight play of its genre, it's full of clever dialogue, charming and charismatic characters, a few outrageous set pieces, lots of humor and even more blood. Brianna Hildebrand and Alexandra Shipp are terrific as Sadie and McKayla, death-obsessed teenage besties hungry for social media hits who must create their own content when the town's psycho doesn't murder enough for their liking. It's a neon- and gore-drenched good time.

So there you go, a roundup of MY OPINIONS about some of the horror movies I've seen sort of lately. See you in another eight years!

I CAN'T WAIT ANY LONGER

Dudes, look. I have been looking at the calendar for about ten days now, willing it to change from August to September. In case you haven't noticed, this has not worked. I honestly thought my powers over the space-time continuum were stronger, and I feel like I've let us all down. But! Instead of crying into my Riunite, I have decided to be proactive. I will not wait for September to announce my SHOCKtober plans, I will do it now now NOW! August be damned. I hate to be a bully, but it needs to be said: no one likes you, August! You are hot and sticky and you get in the way of the best season, Halloween (which runs September 1-November 30). Get outta here! Go on now, git!

Okay, now that that jerk's gone, let's talk about SHOCKtober the Beautiful.

I put on my ruminatin' wig and thought long and hard about what to do to celebrate. 31 movie reviews? A daily picture post about whatever? Something involving haiku? These are all obviously well thought-out and incredible ideas, but goldurnit, I want a bit more...interactivity. NO that is not a euphemism. What I mean is, social media has connected people and brought The Internet together in more ways than are...well, than are absolutely necessary. Don't get me wrong, it can be nice! But it's also sort of killed the blogging circuit. I know I've talked about it before and it's pretty boring, but I'm gonna talk about it again.

The gravitational pull/tractor beam of a place like Facebook is very strong. I can post a link to Final Girl and I might get a few comments on it on my page as people read the piece and return to Facebook. I get it, it's easier! Instead of creating a separate account to comment, you can just use your FB account, etc etc. The discussion threads here have certainly shrunk as social media grows, but I see the diehards who stick around here and I appreciate them (you) very, very much. Many people don't do a blog readin' circuit anymore, though. Maybe that's because it's more difficult without a Google Reader or some such putting them all in one place. Maybe it's because many blogs have gone silent as writers get burned out (ahem). Who knows? But if someone doesn't catch the link you post as they're scrolling down their Facebook newsfeed, they might not visit your site for quite some time.

Soooooo, the point of all of this is that I wanted to go a little bit old school, you know? Maybe get people involved in SHOCKtober rather than posting "I reviewed this movie today" on social media and hoping folks see it and click though and have something to say. Therefore, for SHOCKtober 2017 I am going to recreate the greatest social experiment I've ever run on Final Girl: SHOCKtober 2010.

You might recall or you might just now be learning that in 2010, I asked readers to email me a list of their 20 favorite horror films. Not the 20 "best" films, but favorites. Maybe they are garbage! Who cares? If you love them, they are great. FAVORITES.

I ended up with a list of over 700 title. Over the course of the month, I counted 'em down from fewest number of votes to the mostest number of votes. (The #1 film, incidentally, was John Carpenter's Halloween.) I had some lists by guest writers, it was all a grand, grand time.

I do not expect to reach such dazzling heights in terms of numbers, as readership just ain't what it used to be back then. But who knows, I'm sure we'll hit some other kind of height. Or maybe a low! I'm excited to find out. I'm also excited to see what kind of changes the seven year itch between lists brings. Maybe you've got some new favorites? After all, at least eight horror movies have been released since 2010, and it's possible that one of them is now one of your favorites. SO LET'S DO THIS. But let's do it according to the rules!

THE RULES

• email me a list of YOUR TWENTY **FAVORITE** HORROR FILMS at stacieponder (at) gmail (dot) (c) (o) (m)
• put "my list" or "list" or "list-o" or something in the subject line so I know what's up
• DO NOT submit your list here in the comments or via Facebook message or Facebook comment or smoke signal or anything like that. EMAIL ONLY BLESS YOU THANKS
• Remember, it doesn't matter if these movies are considered the "best" or classics, they just have to be your faves. Final Girl is strictly a NO JERKS ZONE, and I don't truck with making fun of peoples' loves. Not in my comment section, buster!
• Unless you indicate otherwise, if there is more than one version of a film I will assume you mean the original. So if you mean The Fog (2005) and not The Fog (1980), please tell me.
• Honestly I would be shocked if anyone preferred The Fog 2005 to The Fog 1980, but then Donald Trump is President so there are no more surprises and nothing means anything anymore.
• If you write something like The Saw Series, I am just going to include Saw. Specificity is better!
• You don't have to submit a full list of 20! Maybe you only have one favorite horror film, who am I to judge. But 20 titles is the max.
• The list order doesn't matter! You don't have to rank them.
• You don't have to comment on any of your choices, unless you want to.
• The deadline is the end of Sunday September 24th. After that, submissions will go directly in the ol' garbage, sorry.

That's it! Looks like you better put on your ruminatin' wig and get listin'. Maybe spread the word, would ya, because the more the merrier scarier mua ha ha evil laugh! YEAH SHOCKTOBER RULES!

Too Many Pazuzuzzzz

I'm sure that you think I sit here atop Mount Horror Blog, all exhausted from having seen every horror-flavored movie and read every horror-flavored book. I get it! Horror blogging is elite business, for 100% experts only. You can't just start a blog because you want to, it takes years of training and education. But here's the truth, dear reader: there's some stuff I haven't seen. There's some stuff I haven't read! For example, can you believe that I, in all of my 83 years on this planet, am only just reading William Peter Blatty's The Exorcist for the very first time? Much like me and a glass of Riunite on ice, the book is a bona fide classic...and yet here we are. Ah well, better late than never, there's a first time for everything, you're only as young as you feel, etc etc.

(aside: now I have "beautiful Mount Horror Blog!" stuck in my head to this tune)

Now then, my telling you all this isn't solely to brag that I do, in fact, know how to read. Nor is it to dazzle you with erudite insights like "Hey, The Exorcist is pretty good," oh no no. I'm telling you all this because the book got my brain all a-buzzin' with The Exorcist (duh) which got me watchin' the movie which got me thinking "Hey, there are way too many Pazuzus in The Exorcist Extended Director's Cut Version You've Never Seen."

The wholly terrifying subliminal demon face is used quite sparingly–and to great effect–in the original cut of the film. It scared me so badly that I really couldn't handle it. I hated it! It was great. Then along came The Version You've Never Seen and the floodgates were opened. Excised footage was unexcised, Friedkin got all George Lucas about it and added a bunch of stuff, like that awful Regan computer face when she grab's the doctor's junk. You know what I mean. It's bad. Heck, I'd just forever opt for the original cut, but I admit: I am a sucker for the spider walk. It's over-the-top and silly but I love it. So sue me.

Perhaps the worst, though, is that the latest editions of the film include a baker's dozen or more new subliminal demon faces. Let's face it (omg "FACE" it lol lol) once this shot happened...

...it was obvious that this was no longer your mama's Pazuzu. It's everywhere! And so it's really no longer scary. Less is more, more is way less.

On my most recent watch, though, I realized just how many Pazuzus are lurking. It is some Where's Waldo shit for real. Look at these screencaps!

Some of those aren't even subliminal! Yes, William Friedkin is a great director and a master of the craft and all that, but to be honest I don't know what he was thinking with all of this.

Paura- Fulci Remembered: Volume One

Love him or hate him, there's no denying that even after his death, Lucio Fulci remains one of the most interesting filmmakers in the horror genre. That, of course, is putting it rather mildly. His films tend to be short on plot and long on total gross-outs and shocks. Ask anyone about, say, Zombie (aka Zombi 2) and there's a good chance you won't start talking about the story- you'll start talking about the underwater zombie vs shark fight, or the scene where a piece of wood goes through a woman's eye. You may not remember the character's name, but you'll remember the scene in City of the Living Dead where that character pukes up her own guts.

When horror fans are subjected to scrutiny for non-fans, the question that begins the barrage is often "How can you watch that stuff?" I consider myself to be a lite Fulci fan- that is, I really like some of his films, don't like others, and in the end, probably haven't seen all that much. Still, when I think about Fulci, I find myself asking "How can he make that stuff?"- not in a judgmental way, or a way meant to imply that he shouldn't be making these films, but rather that I'm fascinated by someone who would. Fulci's extreme approach to horror is doubly fascinating considering all of the work outside the genre, from westerns to comedies and everything in between. You'd think someone whose horror work is so hardcore would focus exclusively on that genre.

I don't know anything about Fulci, really, beyond his reputation as a hardass director and a misogynist. Does the latter stem from his actual beliefs and behavior offset, or is it simply fallout from the violence against women in his films? I figured that the documentary Paura: Lucio Fulci Remembered, Volume One (2009) should give me some insight and answer more than a few questions I have about this complex, enigmatic filmmaker.

Paura sets out to provide answers to only one question: What is your fondest memory of Lucio Fulci? Answers are given by men and women who fall into one of three categories: accomplices, peers, and victims. The interview clips aren't assembled into a cohesive whole as much as they're plopped onto DVD. You can choose to "play all", or simply jump to the response by a particular person. Each is introduced by a written mini-bio that lists his or her relationship to Fulci (ie, which films they collaborated on) over the same ten-second loop of Fulci-inspired (or, more to the point, Fabio Frizzi-inspired) music. I was glad I opted for the "jump around" approach, as listening to that loop for each of the near-90 interviews on the disc would have driven me mad.



I introduced some friends to City of the Living Dead the other night, and their response to scenes like the maggot storm and the aforementioned guts-puking-uppening was "Oh, those poor actors". By all accounts, Fulci's actors endured more than a few hardships during the making of his films- not just having, say, maggots whipped at their faces, but also the unpredictable temperament of the director himself. Given all this, I decided to jump in by checking out the "victims" section. I began with Catriona MacColl, who'd worked with Fulci on more than one occasion, and who I'd just seen in City of the Living Dead. Surely she'd have some insights.

And she did, as she talked about a photograph of Fulci that she feels is symbolic of the director: he sits on the memorable bridge used in The Beyond, sitting in his chair with his arms folded. According to MacColl, it's very representative of his isolation and his defiance. She hinted that she had much more to say about the man, but "you wanted my fondest memory". How frustrating!



As the subjects are answering the one question, the clips tend to be brief. The level of revelation about Fulci is quite varied: Cinzia Monreale of The Beyond gave a terrific, lengthy answer discussing the man's roughness, rudeness, and humor. They got along well and she found him amusing. On the other hand, Adrienne La Russa, titular star of Beatrice Cenci, shared a mutual enmity with the director. She told an amusing story about how she wouldn't do nudity in the film, so Fulci hired a less-than-flattering body double for her as payback. If that's her fondest memory of him...but alas, curiosity about the rest of the relationship is not to be satisfied on Paura: Volume One. Then there are responses that perhaps should have warranted the addition of a "deleted scenes" section. Barbara Bouchet's fondest memory of Don't Torture a Duckling is simply the fact that Fulci hired her, while director Bruno Mattei doesn't say much more than "I liked him".

Paura is indeed a noble undertaking, and Fulci fans will find much to love. With seven years of filming and more than 100 of the director's colleagues interviewed, the mountains of footage surely comprise an unwieldy, intimidating beast for Paura director Mike Baronas. Unfortunately, I don't that this beast was wrangled in the most effective manner. I don't feel I know Lucio Fulci much better than I did before I gave the DVD a whirl. Sure, some of the anecdotes are interesting and on more than one occasion it's said that Fulci should have been more recognized as a filmmaker, but his lack of diplomacy stifled his career. I wanted to dive into that idea. I wanted to get a real idea of this curious man. The limitations presented by the format simply don't allow for this. I imagine that Volume Two may feature everyone's "least favorite" memory of Fulci, and that will probably provide more insight into his nature. Still, the material would have been best served as a straight-up biography of the man, or perhaps a walk through his work in horror where more questions are asked and answered at once. As a companion to other, more in-depth works about Fulci, Paura is undoubtedly invaluable; as an ignoramus taking in the film on its own, however, I feel like I'm standing at a party where I don't know anyone. Like maybe they're all speaking Italian and laughing at inside jokes while I nervously sip my Riunite on ice and blankly smile. When oh when will I belong?

awesome movie poster friday - the CELEBRATION edition!

"Celebration"? A celebration of what?

Hold on and I'll tell you, geez. One week from today marks the 5th birthday of Final Girl. I've got some shenanigans planned, don't worry- although you'll have to supply your own Riunite. I'm starting a bit early, though; this week I've posting my very favorite awesome movies posters from the Awesome Movie Poster Friday archives. I went allllll the way back to AMPF #1 (August 2007- holy crapping crap) and grabbed the various posters that give me a knee-jerk "ME LIKE" reaction.

It has nothing to do with the movies themselves- it's all about the poster art. As to why I chose these, well...some are enticing- you know, suiting their purpose and intriguing me enough to want to see the film. Some are a bit terrifying. Some of them have design that speaks to my brain on some satisfying, primal level. Some of them simply have beautiful art. And for some of them, I'm gonna bust out the style of critique that's stomped on the moment one walks into art school: I dunno, I just like it. I'd put any of these on my wall- actually, one of them is hanging up now.

Day 5: "I've never felt like this before."

It's a wonder to me that Mausoleum and I have both been walking this planet since 1983, yet last night marked the first time we'd crossed paths. Approximately three minutes after I started playing the DVD, I realized that I'd found my one true soulmate. It doesn't matter where Mausoleum has been all my life- the important thing is that we've found each other at last, and we're now destined to walk the earth together!

Whilst visiting her mother's grave, li'l Susan decides she no longer wants to live with her Aunt Cora. She takes off running through the graveyard, stopping only when she hears someone whisper-singing her name. She peeks inside one mausoleum, but then spots another one across the way that's far more interesting in that it features its own weather system.

She enters the crypt, which is all lit up in greens and purples like the finest Spencer's Gifts. We learn that this is the tomb of the Nomed family...yes, NOMED. That's some seriously Nilbog shit, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, a clawed hand rises from the sarcophagus, things that defy explanation happen, and Susan's eyes light up all green and make a laser noise. The girl done went and got herself possessed!

Fast forward! Susan is now all grown up- she's portrayed by ex-Playboy Bunny Bobbie Bresee and she's married to Marjoe fucking Gortner. A charmed life, you say? It's easy to assume so, but there's a dark side to this fairytale existence! See, a woman of Susan's...err, attributes finds herself constantly subjected to the lechy gaze of creepy weirdo peeping tom gardeners and creepy weirdo Dan Haggerty-esque disco patrons.


All Susan wanted to do was go dancing with her husband (yes, Marjoe fucking Gortner disco dances!), but that Dan Haggerty-esque jerk made it so difficult that she was left with no choice but to use her magic green gaze to set his car on fire while he was locked inside.


The next day, the creepy gardener makes a bold pass at Susan while her husband is at work- her eyes get their green on and we know it's time for some demonic justice! But not before we bear witness to an eerily silent montage that clues us in as to just what, in fact, a gardener does with his day after making a pass at his employer:

He puts down fertilizer!

He mows the lawn!

He reads whilst eating lunch!

He takes a nap on the dock!

He sharpens his axe...

...and uses it!

Finally, Susan gets around to launching Operation: Get Back At The Grope-y Gardener: she strolls out onto her balcony wearing only a towel, then sips Riunite as if she's straight from a Jackie Collins novel.

Okay, in reality that's only Phase One of her plan. She continues the seduction approximately 9 hours later, when it's pitch black outside...insert helpful moon shot!

Susan's plan includes actually sleeping with the gardener- boy, this really teaches him a lesson! He suggests they partake in another round, but instead, Susan does her green-eyed thing, turns into some sort of a monster, and kills him with a garden implement. Okay, I guess that really teaches him a lesson.

Soon enough, Susan's victims don't actually have to trespass against her in order for her to unleash the NOMED lurking inside. Poor Aunt Cora, for example, shows up for a visit only to find herself floating around and killed dead thanks to her monsteriffic niece.



One person spared Susan's wrath is Elsie the maid (LaWanda Page...yes, Aunt Esther from Sanford & Son!). Intended as comic relief, Elsie is, in fact, a whopping slice of politically incorrect pie. Yet while she's given to saying things like "Great googily moogily!", Elsie is a rarity in that she's a black character who makes it 'til the end of the picture. When faced with a green fog emanating from Susan's bedroom, Elsie admits there's "Some strange shit goin' on in this house!", yells "No more grievin', I'm leavin'!", and splits.

There's so much more to Mausoleum, but I don't want to give away the whole package, as everyone should be allowed to discover it for him- or herself. Director Michael Dugan has truly given the world a gift! However, a few highlights:

- Susan undergoes hypnosis where she reveals her NOMED nature and corn teeth!

- There's the use of the term "facial fantasy"
- Dialogue includes "Yes...there's a history of possession."
- When possessed, Susan's depravity has no limits- she steals art from the mall!
- Something happens- I cannot reveal what it is, for you must witness it with your own eyes, but suffice it to say, it causes Marjoe fucking Gortner to pull what can only be called a Ridiculous Face of Pre-Death:

- While Mausoleum makes no sense as a whole, the very last shot of the film is so illogical that it actually defies the laws of science and mathematics. Even if you've never seen the film, your guess as to what the fuck is going on here is as good as mine:

- Then we get the end credits, which feature a tender song called "Free Again", written and sung by Frank Primato. It boasts lyrics like "Let's blow the fire dead...that's burning in my head..." and it's every bit as dreadful as you think it would be.

In case you haven't guessed, Mausoleum is a terrible, terrible film. The acting is horrendous, the dialogue atrocious, and the timing between the players is so off that every scene comes across like rejected audition tapes. There's a charm to Bobbie Bresee, but it's one borne of a performance that feels bathed in quaaludes. The sound is awful, as if there's a muted coffee pot percolating somewhere just off camera for the duration of the film. The direction is all but incompetent at times with dull compositions, pointless zooms and pans, and bizarre insert shots. The end of the film, featuring the "exorcism" (I use that term wicked loosely), takes 20 minutes but should only take seven. The creature effects, by genre vet John Carl Buechler, are '80s-style cheesy.

All of that is true, but oh how I loved this movie! I never wanted it to end, ever. On a scale of 1-10, I'd honestly rate it infinity. Lawd help me, it's true- the depths of deliciousness achieved are face-rockingly limitless. Forgive me, Shark Attack 3: Megalodon...step aside, Pieces...there's a new love of my life, and its name is Mausoleum!