What could've been

I saw the 2002 disaster Halloween: Resurrection for the first time last October, during my Halloween marathon, aka Experiment in Masochism 2. If you weren't around Final Girl then, head right here to read my immediate reaction to that movie, the 8th tale in the saga of Michael Myers. HINT: I was ragin'. 'Roid ragin', but without the 'roids.

Yeah, it was a silly movie, it was a bad movie...but it could've been cheesy fun, like, say, Jason X. I strongly feel that had it ended with Halloween H2O, the series could've died with a little dignity intact. At the film's end, Laurie Strode beheaded Michael Myers, and that should've been that. Sister killing brother, game over after 20 long years. In a misguided attempt to squeeze a few more coins from Michael's teats, however, someone out in Hollywoodlandville came up with a simply brilliant idea: what if Laurie didn't behead Michael? What if it was someone else? "Yeah! Awesome! Michael switched clothes with some poor sap and he gets his head chopped off! Sweet. So. Smart. And plausible! Then we'll kill off Laurie in the first 15 minutes of Halloween: Resurrection in a totally ludicrous fashion- we'll give her a really indignant death after 25 years. Then we'll bring in celebrities like Tyra Banks and Busta Rhymes, and we'll create a plot about reality TV and the internet because kids love celebrities and the internet. Hollywood rules!"

Do you see why I was so full of burning hot anger? In fact, just thinking about it just...excuse me. I need to go do some Tantric breathing or something.

The only reason I'd go back to watch Halloween: Resurrection now is to see Katee Sackhoff, who stars as Starbuck on the current incarnation of Battlestar Galactica series. At the moment, I'm quite frankly a little obsessed with that show. Otherwise, the movie can completely, 100%-ly kiss my ass. Although I do dearly love some of these alternate titles for the movie, according to imdb.com:

-Hall8ween (exactly how does one pronounce that? anything with "ate ween" in the title is just naughty)
-Halloween H2K: Evil Never Dies
-Halloween: The Homecoming
and my personal favorite, quite possibly the worst movie title ever:
-Halloween: MichaelMyers.com

I told ya, kids love the internet!

While flipping through the back issue bin at my local comic shop recently, I came across Halloween III: The Devil's Eyes, a 2001 book from Chaos Comics. I picked it up to check it out, and I thought it was worth mentioning here as it's an adaptation of a screenplay treatment...in other words, it's the Halloween: Resurrection that could've been. Whether it's better than what made it to the screen is a tough call; it's just a comic book, after all, and it would be much different to see the story played out in flesh and blood. The plot is drastically different than the MichaelMyers.com crap, and that, at least, is good.

MichaelMyers.com- oh, man. That's gonna crack me up for a good long while.

The Devil's Eyes (written by Phil Nutman, pencilled by Justiniano, inked by Walden Wong) picks up right after the events of Halloween H2O. At an accident scene, the police have found a headless body burned beyond recognition. Both the corpse's head and Laurie Strode are missing from the scene, but the police believe that the body belongs to Michael Myers.

Meanwhile, poor little Tommy Doyle (the kid Laurie was babysitting in the original Halloween) is all grown up and is now a patient at Smith's Grove Sanitarium himself.

Apparently, in earlier issues, there was a church fire that resulted in the death of Sheriff Brackett and the authorities believe Tommy was responsible. Tommy is unconvinced that Myers is really dead and escapes from Smith's Grove. He heads back to Haddonfield, where he meets up with Lindsey Wallace (his movie-watching buddy from Halloween), who's now a reporter living in Chicago. She's back in Haddonfield to write the story of Michael Myers, hoping she can put the nightmare behind her once and for all.

It would seem that Tommy's right, though- Michael Myers isn't dead! Eyyyagh! Who else would put the bodies of Laurie's teenage friends Annie, Lynda, and Bob on display on a bed upstairs in Lindsey's old house? And isn't that a nice candle holder?

Yup, Michael's back, and he battles Tommy and Lindsey to near death. They all end up back at the old abandoned Myers house where Lindsey jabs Michael in the eye with something pointy while Tommy shoots him in the back. They pull off Michael's mask to reveal...

...Laurie Strode. She really did kill Michael at the end of H20, and now she's using his head as a decorative votive holder and picking up where he left off. What the f indeed, Tommy. What the f, indeed.

At the book's end, Laurie is incarcerated at Smith's Grove. Her shrink explains to Lindsey that Laurie suffers from "Psychotic Personality Transference", meaning she needed to relive the events of October 31, 1978 over and over again. She killed Michael and took his head as a trophy, but couldn't live without the idea of Michael- so she became him. Straight-up mental illness. Lindsey questions that assessment, though- is it just insanity, or is it something more? You know, like pure evil and stuff? Either way, Laurie's a bonafide cuckoo psycho nutjob at the end of it all, staring off into space just like Michael all those years ago...

So there you go. No karate-choppin' Busta Rhymes, no Tyra Banks, no internet. No...heeheehee...MichaelMyers.com. Is The Devil's Eyes a better ending to the saga than Halloween: Resurrection? Probably, although I don't know if I buy Laurie-as-psycho-killer. She was a pretty normal teenager up until Michael Myers re-entered her life and killed all her friends. I think she was treated realistically by Kevin Williamson and Co. for Halloween: H2O. She was alcoholic, addicted to prescription drugs, and neurotic. She hadn't gotten over the events of Halloween night, but she could have, had she sought treatment. She was a troubled, loving mother, not a mere blink away from becoming a murderous psycho. Ah well. At least in the comic she lives.

Put THAT in your stocking!

Bloody-Disgusting has more news on the remake of Black Christmas, including a visit to the film's set in Vancouver.

*ring ring*
"Hello? Yes...a remake? Why on earth would anyone want to--yes. From Buffy? Oh dear. No, I don't think it needs "more gore". Not at all! I can't understand...and who is this "Kyle" you're talking about? I don't remember any "Kyle". Do you mean "Peter", my boyfriend, played by Keir Dullea? I see- "Peter" isn't hip enough of a name nowadays, I suppose.

You say there's going to be more of a backstory for the killer? Now that just seems silly to me. Yes, I understand- everyone wants everything explained to them. Everyone needs their hands held, right? But you see, we knew nothing about the killer in our attic and that made him intriguing...yet you say you want your film to be more about intrigue than shock--yes. Yes I see, but...I'm confused. You're adding more gore and more explanations and you think this will be less shocking and more intriguing? I don't--yes, of course.

If you---oh, why, thank you. Yes, I do have shiny shiny hair."

"Gimme that---now you listen to me, all you pretty little fuckers. So you've got this sweet little thing from fucking Buffy playing my character? "Cool, chill, comic relief"? That's funny, I didn't read the word "drunk" in there anywhere. Why don't you grow some sac and make some interesting characters with a little depth. You know- some that aren't just pretty, pasty faces from TV? Hmm? What?! Yes, I'm on my meds, you fucker.

Listen, my best friend Stacie thought about giving you people a clean slate- for about two seconds, then she snapped out of it. Or rather, I slapped her out of it. That's what best friends are for. She's tired of all the bullshit remakes you bastards are always peddling around because you can't come up with anything new...you know what? Fuck your remakes! I am fed. The fuck. UP! This is the second movie of mine getting remade by you antiseptic motherfuckers- what, was I not interesting enough for you? Hmm? Was I not foxy enough? Yeah, no shit my hair isn't as shiny...yeah, but I was a drunk. And I swore...alot.

Ah, to hell with you bastards. Your movie will come out around Christmas time and everyone will hate it and be all "wah wah wah" about your piece of shit remakes...and then maybe- just maybe- people will go back in time and watch the original. Yeah, see, they'll see Olivia's shiny shiny hair, they'll watch me be drunk, they'll like all the interesting characters and the subplots and the terror and the suspense...they'll feel real fear. And then, instead of saying "Let's have a do-over!", they'll say "Gee, that was some original shit. Why don't I make some original shit?" and they'll make some scary, smart, mature, serious, original shit. See? Fuckers.

Fellatio!"

*click*

O death

Are you old enough and/or hip enough to know Bad Company?

Feel like makin' lists! (do do DOOO do do DOOO do do DOOO)
Feel like makin' lists! (do do DOOO do do DOOO do do DOOO)
Feel like MAKIN' LISTS FOR YOU!

At the risk of sounding like a complete sociopathic whackjob, today I present to you a list of my favorite slasher deaths. Frankly I feel a bit strange ranking death scenes in terms of "awesomeness", but once you take a gander at my choices you'll get an idea of what I'm talking about. Regular old stabbings and chokings are so blah! I mean, strictly Dullsville, you know? I appreciate those folks who think outside the box when offing their hapless victims. A little creativity goes a long way with yours truly, and thus you won't find any run-of-the-mill butcher knives on this list, homie.

Do I need to add a disclaimer that...you know...death by any means in real life is bad and...umm...don't try these at home? No? Good. Then without further ado, and in no particular order, I give you:

THE BEST SLASHER DEATH SCENES (ACCORDING TO ME, ANYWAY)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

Ah, romance. A bearskin rug, a little wine, a roaring fire...that spells nookie, son! In most cases, anyway. In Happy Birthday to Me, however, the romance only leads to DEATH! Death by MEAT KABOB! Mmm! Now that's tasty!

AMERICAN GOTHIC

I discovered American Gothic during my Shocktober! madness, and I totally fell in love with the twisted story of a murderous family living on an island and partying like it's 1929. The highlight for me is undoubtedly the swingset sequence. Franny and Woody, siblings who act as if they're children but are, in fact, not a day under 40, are pushing visitor Rob in a swing:

Whee! Doesn't that look like fun? What a pretty day! The sky and the water are so blue! Life is awesome! Eventually, Woody climbs to the top of the swingset and cuts the rope with an axe...and it's bye bye Rob. Talk about whee!

FRIDAY THE 13th PART 3

Friday the 13th Part 3 is a notable entry in the film series because it's the one where Jason dons his infamous hockey mask. It also appeared on the scene during the big 3-D craze of the early 80s- in addition to this movie there was also Amityville 3-D and Jaws 3-D, to name a couple. Filmmakers needed to push the 3-D effects to the max and give the audience good reason to wear those ridiculous paper-and-cellophane glasses the movies required. In Friday 3, characters point alot of things at the camera: pitchforks, spears, yo-yos, even a joint. The best use of 3-D effects in the flick, however, comes when Jason squeezes this poor dude's head until his eyeball pops out and flies directly at the camera. It's still an over-the-top shot when seen today on DVD (in only 2 lousy dimensions), but I remember seeing it at the drive-in while wearing the requisite glasses and the whole place went absolutely crazy.

FRIDAY THE 13th PART VIII: JASON TAKES MANHATTAN

The last Friday movie I saw in a theatre, Part VIII, is undoubtedly one of the worst entries in the series. It's a big, dull, waterlogged mess of a slasher. I find it tedious and virtually unbearable, really. All is forgiven, however, towards the end when it's Jason vs Cool Kid Boxer in a rooftop punching match! Cool Kid Boxer punches Jason over and over and over, pummeling his head and stomach until Cool Kid's knuckles are all bloody from the effort. Jason takes every blow and doesn't seem to be feeling any effects whatsoever. Cool Kid Boxer wears himself out and can't swing anymore, at which point he taunts Jason with "Take your best shot!" Faster than you can say Pat Benatar, Jason swings...and punches the dude's head clean off. This single shot manages to redeem the other 90 minutes of stinking poop comprising this movie.

HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH

So this isn't technically a slasher...but it's in a series of slashers and I love it, so there you go. "I love it"? Wait, doesn't everyone hate Halloween III? Sure they do, but not me, Charlie! Yes, it's a really, really bad movie. Really. Really bad. But it's also one of the finest examples of 'so bad it's good' out there, and because of that I've taken Halloween III into my little ol' heart. Besides, it's got Tom Atkins, and you just can't go wrong with Tom Atkins. This movie does NOT feature Halloween psycho Michael Myers, which is the major problem most people have with it. John Carpenter envisioned a series of Halloween movies that didn't center around Michael Myers, but rather centered around the night itself. I think that's a pretty good idea, but people wanted their beloved Michael back onscreen. And did I mention that Season of the Witch is really bad? Anyway, my favorite moment in a movie filled with favorite moments is what happens to some poor lady in a hotel room. She's screwing around with a Silver Shamrock logo, which has fallen off a mask she bought earlier. The logo looks like it's got a little computer chip on it or something- what could that mean? She starts poking it with a bobby pin, and suddenly...

ZZZZAP! She gets shot in the mouth with a fucking laser. It's unexpected, it's ludicrous, and the results are grody to the max. Dude. Gross me out the door.

SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT 2

Speaking of zap (and no, I'm not talking about the American Gladiator, unfortunately), how 'bout that Silent Night, Deadly Night 2, eh? When obnoxious preppy Chip makes a love connection with his car battery (courtesy of psycho Ricky), I get sensation not dissimilar to that I get when I bite into a York Peppermint Patty.

Of course, no discussion of SNDN 2 would be complete without mentioning Ricky's ingenuity as he claims a victim by gettin' Mary Poppins all over the guy's ass...wait, that sounds dirty. Ah, well. He does get...anyway. It's rainin' pain, my friends!

GRADUATION DAY

Lordy, lordy is Graduation Day a bad movie. Not good bad...just bad. It was torture to sit through it during Shocktober!, but I will forever and always treasure its one shining moment: ladies and gentlemen, I give you The Football with a Sword Attached. Catching it can be harmful to your health...kinda like catching Ebola. But pointier.

SLEEPAWAY CAMP 3: TEENAGE WASTELAND

O Angela, my Angela. It was so difficult to choose which demonstration of your handiwork to include in this list. Should I include the cheerleader strung up and dropped from atop a flagpole in Part 3? Or maybe the chick drowned in the outhouse in Part 2...but then there's the Shit Sisters from that movie as well, burned alive, still clutching their bottles of Jack Daniels...it's been tough deciding. Ultimately though, dear Angela, you won me over early on in Sleepaway Camp 3 when you travelled to New York City and stole a garbage truck to run over your victim. And the way you were dressed just like her when you did it so you could take her place at camp? I mean, right down to the wig! That kind of stunt takes time and planning, and you did it, girlfriend. Kudos, Angela. You rock!

And yes, you can totally tell it's a dummy that gets run over. Icing on the cake, my friends...that's just icing on the cake.

There you have it, folks. Those are the deaths that somehow fill me with giddiness, however wrong that may be. I'm not a sicko, I swear. They're just so over-the-top that they make me smile. And now...

HIDDEN BONUS TRACK!
That's right! Just for you, I've compiled a bonus mini-list:

WAYS I REALLY WOULD NOT LIKE TO DIE

I would most sincerely not enjoy being boiled alive like so much human cabbage. It's quite a popular way to off people in slasher movies, though, so I'm worried it might one day happen to me. Just look at these methods, and see if you don't agree:

Boiled in a hydrotherapy tub, courtesy of Michael Myers in Halloween 2:

Boiled amongst the hot dogs*, courtesy of Harry Warden in My Bloody Valentine:

"Boiled" in a vat of dry ice, even if it looks like I'm on the set of a music video for a Power Ballad by some 80s hair band, a la Pranks:

And finally, while the idea of being boiled alive is highly unappealing, I find there's a method of death much less appealing, and it comes courtesy of David Cronenberg's The Brood. I would not- repeat, I would not- like to be bludgeoned to death by screaming, snowsuit-clad mutant dwarves, especially not in front of a room full of kindergarteners. How embarassing.



*Anyone who boils their hotdogs instead of frying or grilling them is a jerk.

I found my thrill

Ain't It Cool News has posted this exclusive Cirque du Soleil-gone-awry shot from Silent Hill. Nice!
By now, I'm sure you know how much I'm anticipating this movie. Yes, yes...my metaphorical chubby grows by the day, and if the April 21 release doesn't get here soon, I may burst. Messiness could ensue.

Apparently there was a clip shown at Wondercon that was gory, violent, and fan-fucking-tastic, but I can't seem to find any links anywhere that actually work. Maybe that's for the best: like I said, messy burst.

Hopes are very high for this movie across the board, it seems, and I really truly hope it lives up to the buzz. Everyone's trotting out the "this might be the first good videogame-to-movie translation!" line, but I say fuck that. I just want a good horror movie. Of course it's based on a videogame, but it needs to succeed as a horror movie first and foremost. The filmmakers seem to be bringing the atmosphere and feel of the game to the screen, but it's going to need more than that to succeed. Resident Evil strayed pretty damn far from the game's plot (and atmosphere, etc) and I found that somewhat disappointing- although I still enjoyed the movie. And don't go saying I was blinded by Milla, because the follow-up, Resident Evil: Apocalypse, sucked like a Flowbee. "Videogame movie" shouldn't be an umbrella term in my opinion- you're going to put Silent Hill and Super Mario Brothers in the same category?

According to imdb.com, the working title of this has been Silent Hill: Centralia- which is only adding to my anticipation. In my general research on interesting places to go to take photos, I cam across Centralia several years ago. It's a mining town in Pennsylvania that's been almost completely consumed by underground coal fires that have been burning since 1961. Houses are gone, the landscape has been virtually decimated, the roads are cracked and twisted...and while I haven't yet made it out that way to document it, the pictures I have seen are very, very creepy. At least to me, anyway...

For more info on Centralia, check out this website. And be sure to mark April 21 on your calendars for a little trip to Silent Hill.

Easy like Monday mornin'

I spent about 24 out of the last 72 hours driving...driving...driving! Fucking A is Pennsylvania big. It should totally be broken up into several smaller states. Yes, I realize driving from the Midwest to New England would take just as long, but I'd really feel like I was accomplishing something during that time- you know, passing through 4 states instead of just one. The pilgrims or whoever it was that made all the states sure got lazy once they got out of the northeast. Connecticut and Rhode Island are so cute and tidy, then head west: oh, there's Pennsylvania's fat ass in your face. And girl, don't even get me started on Montana.

As you can see, I'm still in recovery mode from my trip. My brain hasn't quite yet re-solidified, so forgive me. I've also got big comic book deadlines sticking their middle fingers up at me, so Final Girl will be a little light this week.

I didn't want to leave you empty handed, though, so I've sunk to a new low just for you. What, you thought talking about "special time" with photos of Phyllis Diller and Cloris Leachman was as low as I could go? Pfft. No, my friends...those shenanigans pale in comparison to me giving you a link.

To an article.

Written by a college freshman.

In the Wisconsin Badger Herald.

Sigh. The article, Horror Film Genre Doesn't Impress, irritated me just enough that on a lazy Monday I thought I'd share it with you.

I agree with a few points author Ray Gustini makes, particularly about the current trend in horror towards torture flicks. I've mentioned my views on the subject several times.

What I object to, however, is this:

The horror genre is essentially an illegitimate one. There really is no way
to make an artistically worthy scary movie.
----------
No matter how good the script, and no matter how talented the production
team, no scary movie is going to be taken seriously because it doesn’t engage
the intellect. One can only admire the craftsmanship and ingenuity that goes
into making these movies so much before you eventually realize there isn’t
anything to hang your hat on.

Really? No horror films engage the intellect? What about The Shining, The Exorcist, and Silence of the Lambs (which swept the Oscars in 1992, for whatever that's worth) for just a few examples? Bah. Fie thee, Ray Gustini. Why, as a purported fan, set the bar so low for the genre? Yes, there's alot of shitty horror out there. There's alot of shitty comedies, too, but there's also Annie Hall, you know?

Why is horror so easily (and almost constantly) dismissed? Horror and intellect are not mutually exclusive. Yes, the dumb escapism of, say, Killer Workout is great, but that's not the best horror filmmakers can do, and that's not all we should expect from the genre. I'd be sad if it were. C'mon now. Hitch your wagon to a star, people!

Audi Fivethoudi

Proving that you can go home again, soon I'll be leaving town to...umm...go home again to see the folks and have a Big Chillesque weekend with old friends. Awww. I'm secretly hoping to find some treasure trove of horror-related goodies from my youth in my old bedroom closet, but the reality is there probably won't be much left besides yellowed pinups of Duran Duran and buttons from my jacket that say things like "Question Authority". Ah well. I'll be back on Monday, although I'd rather be back on Wednesday so I could rightfully intone "See you next Wednesday!" a la Vincent Price in Thriller. Eh, dare to dream.

In the meantime, here's a link to You Think You Know Fear, You Know Nothing, an essay by Doug Brunell over at Film Threat. He talks about his childhood obsession with The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and it all brought me back to those wonderful days before the internet, when horror movies were still illicit and your imagination fueled your desire to see something on the big screen.

I became even more obsessed with seeing the film. I did all the research on the movie I could at my school's miserable library and tried to visualize what happened on the screen. I tried to analyze what made it so scary ... all without seeing the damn thing. That obstacle was removed, though, when my mom bought me the video.

Good stuff. See you next Monday! (Did you say that to yourself in a Vincent Price voice?)

Magically Delicious

My dear readers, if there's one thing you're sure to have noticed by perusing Final Girl, it's that I, your humble blogmistress, live life on the edge. Remember, just the other day, when I stayed up late watching Dolls? Or how about that time I watched all the Friday the 13th movies in a day? Uh huh...thought so. I won't even bring up that time I totally became best friends with Margot Kidder. Wait...I just did. You get my point, though, right? See, there's the edge...and then there's me on it.

Anyway, living such a Bold and Beautiful life, one is sure to have some missteps along the way...but they're just that- mere missteps. I have no regrets. No regrets, I tells ya! The unfortunate "Mental Patient Chic" haircut I gave myself? Pfft- whatevs. It grew out OK. Shaving off my eyebrows? Bitch, please...the act simply made me an alluring 7th-grader. Missteps! No regrets! This, of course, doesn't mean I don't ever question myself. Surely, from time to time, we've all paused for a moment to reflect, only to ask ourselves "What, exactly, do I suppose I was thinking there when I did that thing?" You know, like "Was I really masturbating to a photo of Phyllis Diller last night?"

Please note, I have NEVER masturbated to a photo of Phyllis Diller. There was that one crazy summer back in '89 wherein I spent alot of time with that Cloris Leachman publicity photo, but I was all gorked out on Bartles and Jaymes Strawberry-Kiwi for 3 months straight and thus I can't be held accountable.

Where was I? Ah, yes- what was I thinking there when I did that thing? That's exactly the thought I have sometimes when I look at my DVDs and spot the Leprechaun Pot of Gore Collection upon the shelf. It's odd, but I distinctly remember spending a very long time in the 'horror' section at Virgin Megastore, desperately seeking this box set. It wasn't to be found anywhere in the vicinity, and I was terribly disappointed by its absence. I stood, for a moment, by the registers, wondering what to do next...then I spotted it on a shelf with other random collections. I brought home the Leprechaun Pot of Gore Collection and oh, how happy I was. Why? Who can say, exactly. I'm mercurial. I'm like the wind. Sure, these Leprechaun movies are good for a laugh, but do I need to OWN 5 of them? Umm...

I think we're all in agreement here when we say there's only one Leprechaun movie really worth owning, and that's Leprechaun 4: In Space. Sorry, kids- Leprechaun in the Hood is a big disappointment, despite the appearance of Ice-T. But send that ugly little green fucker into space and I'm all over it like white, brown, and long grain-n-wild on rice.

The plot of Leprechaun 4 is quite simple. A motley crew of space marines (including The Poor Man's Frank Stallone, Debbe Dunning of television's Home Improvement, and the dude from Friday the 13th Part V who played Reggie the Reckless's brother- remember, he and his jheri curl were terrorized whilst in the outhouse by Roy the Paramedic posing as Jason) fly their bad-CGI spaceship to a bad-CGI planet on a search and destroy mission. Meanwhile, the titular Leprechaun (Warwick Davis) is on said planet using his vast riches to convince a Space Princess (we know she's a Space Princess right off the bat because she's got glitter on her forehead) to marry him. You see, despite all his gold, bad skin, and stripey socks, the Leprechaun lacks the one thing he so desperately desires: R-E-S-P-E-C-T. If he marries the Space Princess, then one day he'll be king, and the Space Subjects will worship him. Eventually, Space Marines and Leprechaun meet and fight in a Space Cave- Leppy ends up throwing himself on a grenade to save the Space Princess, and the Space Marines take the Space Princess back to their bad-CGI ship.

And that's just the beginning! I know, you're thinking "That sounds like some awesome Space Action! How can the movie continue from there? Especially if Leppy has been exploded?" Well, my friends, there's much more. Leppy comes back right quick, birthed (fully grown) from a Space Marine's penis. Yeah...it's a long story. There's lots more Space Action as Leppy battles the Space Marines in order to retrieve his beloved Space Princess Fiancee. That's pretty much the story in a nutshell, but there's more than a few parts of this movie that deserve more attention. Allow me to enlighten you.

First of all, there's no extras on this DVD, save the trailer. This is a bummer- I'd really really like some commentary from the director (Mark Jones) and/or the writer (Dennis Pratt), if only to hear what they've got to say about things like these:



What's that blue thing on the left do? Very scientific! Sometimes I just can't tell how much of the badness of this movie is intentional. For example (and speaking of 'scientific'), in one sequence we've got Dr. Reeves (Jessica Collins) furiously pressing keys on her Space Age computerized thing while she talks to a Space Marine:


Her clipboard computer is bleeping and booping while she uses it, and you're thinking "Wow! What cool Super Space Computers we'll have in the future!"...then she turns and:

It's a calculator. A very small calculator. Is that intentional, or just a bad prop? I have no idea. The actors play this movie really straight, and the humor that's very obviously intentional is just terrible- so when something so small like the Super Space Calculator comes along, I'm baffled. I'm delighted, but baffled.

The best part of Leprechaun 4: In Space is, without a doubt, the end. Leppy has killed off most of the Space Marines, and he's in the cargo bay ready to hop into a shuttle to abscond with his gold and the Space Princess. The remaining heroes zap Leppy with a special ray that enlarges him to Godzilla-esque proportions:


Flee, Space Heroes! Flee they do, and soon enough they open the airlock whereupon Leppy is sucked out into space...


...then he explodes. Our Space Heroes look out the window as huge chunks of Leppy float around the ship. Leppy's hand floats on by, and then comes one of the greatest moments in the history of ever that just happens to be caught on film:


Leppy ever-so-slowly unfurls his middle finger at the Space Heroes and the movie ends. Orson Welles can shove Rosebud you-know-where. Leonardo DiCaprio can take his "king of the world" bit right smack into that iceberg, and quite frankly, It's a Wonderful Life, I don't give a fuck how angels get their wings. An oversized Leprechaun hand flipping the bird in outer space is pure cinematic gold! Because of this one scene, the Leprechaun Pot of Gore Collection deserves a spot on my shelf- and if you don't agree, then you're dead to me!

It's art, man

Today I discovered Movie Goods, a site loaded with movie memorabilia such as photos, film cells, and posters, from reproductions to foreign rarities. Here's some of the noteworthy stuff for sale I found during a cursory browse (all images courtesy of moviegoods.com)...

An awesomely creepy lobby card from Alice, Sweet Alice:

Here's a German poster for John Carpenter's The Fog:

Isn't that terrible? That's got to be one of the silliest, least terrifying images I've ever seen. Is she supposed to be scary or scared? I can't tell...she's cross-eyed and her hair is going crazy! Eyyaggggghhhhh! Actually, it looks like maybe there's a flasher in the fog and he's just shown her his manpurse.

From the Completely Judging a Book by Its Cover Department, the movie I've never heard of but want to see desperately now based solely on its title and poster:

What on earth did the cats do? Did they pee on his pillow? Did they shed all over his best suit? I'm wondering what the cats could have possibly done to make a man put pantyhose on his head and take someone who looks vaguely like Debbie Reynolds hostage. And who are all those girls lined up? Are they the "cats" in question? I must know...I must know!

I love this Italian poster for Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?. It seems to me that modern posters, when not just a plain photograph of the stars themselves, are simply dull, over-Photoshopped crud. Gimme a painted, broken baby doll head any day of the week!

Movie posters also used to be great marketing, really drawing you into the flick- especially when the flick in question is produced by William Castle, the gentleman who brought us such gimmicks as selling 'life insurance' to audience members (in case they died of fright during the film), or zapping their seats during The Tingler. Check out the poster from Bug:

Yep, it's the movie you see with your eyes closed! Castle's "serious warning" states:

Many people have an uncontrollable fear of the unknown. If you are such a person, please believe me when I say- this movie is not for you.

Have you seen Bug? The cockroaches can start fires and they spell out WE LIVE on a wall. It fucking rocks. Don't forget to go over your checklist after viewing!

The Japanese poster for Friday the 13th has a great layout, atmosphere, blood, action, and short shorts:

And finally, this is why Movie Goods will be getting some of my dollars-

That's what I'm talkin' bout, Willis. Long live memorabilia!

Denial something something river...

Bloody-Disgusting has a few pictures (as well as a link to a few more) from the set of the remake of Black Christmas. The film stars Michelle Trachtenberg (of Buffy), Mary Elizabeth Winstead (of Ring 2), and Katie Cassidy (of 7th Heaven) as residents of a sorority who are harrassed and eventually killed by a psycho living in their attic. Oliver Hudson of Dawson's Creek also stars, so obviously it's chock-a-block full of your favorite WB c-listers. Yaaaaay! One bright spot is Andrea Martin, who starred in the 1974 version; she's in a couple of the on-set snaps, so there's at least one original cast member returning for the remake.

Helming this picture are Glen Morgan and James Wong, the duo behind the Final Destination franchise. While I happen to enjoy the Final Destination flicks on a sort of visceral level, I hope the boys can go with a bit more subtle touch with Black Christmas.

Well, the movie is due out in December 2006, so I can no longer pretend that it isn't going to be made. These pictures from the set, though quite dull, prove that a remake of one of my favorite horror movies wasn't just some nightmare I had- it's actually happening. I guess this means I was naked during my Organic Chemistry lecture today, too.

And by the way, I was being sarcastic when I said yaaaaay.

I don't know how to feel right now.

In my quest to be The Last Person on Earth to Find Out About Things, I came across a nugget of info on David Arquette's upcoming slasher film The Tripper at Bloody-Disgusting. For all of you too busy or too cool to click the link, the plot apparently goes something like this:

The film revolves around a group of friends who escape to a modern-day Woodstock concert for a weekend of debauchery, only to be stalked by a fanatical killer determined to finish what he started years earlier.

Sounds, dare I say...old school and not too bad.

David is directing the film and co-wrote the screenplay. Wife Courtney Cox-Arquette is co-producing. Names attached include Jamie King, Lukas Haas, Balthazar Getty, Jason Mewes, Thomas Jane, and...Paul Reubens. It's this last name that's got me excited, because Paul Reubens fucking rocks. There's pictures from the set at the link above, and they're worth checking out just for Reubens's deadly moustache-and-mini-fro combo. I'm hoping that's an uncredited-as-of-yet Steve Zahn in the photos as well, because that would firmly put me in Arquette's camp.

I'll bring more news of this movie as it comes, because frankly, I'm intrigued. I'm not a David Arquette fan, and I could do without Jason Mewes. I've got a bad feeling that he'll be playing a Dewey-esque retard slacker type, but I could be very wrong. There's a picture of a headless body at the link, and the plot sounds classic. All the names attached to The Tripper strike me as bizarre, for reasons I can't quite put my finger on...they're all disparate personalities, maybe. They should add Maya Angelou and Stephen Hawking to the list- somehow they'd fit in.

That's all from the news department here at It's New to ME! Tomorrow we'll be discussing the Macarena and Crystal Pepsi- try them together!

Does the future of horror lie with this man?

I Heart: House on Haunted Hill

Don't hate me because I love the 1999 version of House on Haunted Hill! Yes, I know it's a Dark Castle Production. Yes, I know it's way heavy-handed with the CGI. Yes, I know it features Chris Kattan. Let it be known, however, that the 90-odd-minute cornfest also has a very special place in my heart, and nothing you can say can make me change my mind! This is the point where I cross my arms, stomp my feet, stick out my tongue, and say 'nyah'.

I'm sure you're wondering how this movie could have possibly won a place in my heart, given my high standards and impeccable taste in horror, right? RIGHT? Right. So, let me tell the tale and give you a little insight into a day, long ago in the life of moi, in a dazzling city known as "New York"...

I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar bookseller at a location to be known as "Large Chain Bookstore". Getting by in New York City on a meager book jockey's salary is, to understate it tremendously, quite difficult. Believe me, the novelty of selling books to Sally Jesse Raphael wears off quickly when you're scraping together your last dimes -literally- to come up with subway fare. Yes, dear readers, the times they were a-tryin' indeed. In addition to the daily anxiety of having no money, ever, I also felt completely deflated every time I walked up the stairs from the train to the street. The job had long since worn out its welcome with me, and it depressed me to no end to go in for each shift. While working in a bookstore might seem to be a nice quaint little job, you're still simply working in a shop...and the wealthy customers of Park Avenue, New York City wouldn't let you forget it. I loathe retail, but I loathe being treated like "the help" far more. Any dollars are better than no dollars, however, and I had no idea what to do with myself next- so I kept on going back for more.

One fine day, whilst working the cash registers, I got into a wee argument with one of the assistant managers, over what I no longer remember. He told me to take a break, so I gladly did. I'd been in the breakroom about 5 minutes, talking with a co-worker, when another manager walked in and asked if I was on lunch. When I replied in the negative and related what had happened, she told me to get back on the floor or punch out. I thought about this for a few seconds, and then in a flash came these simple words to my little brain:

I don't have to work here.

I said it out loud to my co-worker- "Hey, I don't have to work here". Then I walked into the office and told them I was punching out for good. By the time I had cleaned out my locker and swiped my timecard for the last time, the breakroom had filled with people having lunch. Word had spread very quickly about what I'd done, and I kid you not- my co-workers in the breakroom started chanting my name and banging on the tables. STA-CIE! STA-CIE STA-CIE! I felt like Norma motherfucking Rae! I held my arms aloft, smiled, and walked out of Large Chain Bookstore in the middle of the day, in the middle of my shift. I still count it as one of the best things I've ever done in my entire life. Take your Olympic gold medals and cram 'em- I walked out of my job in the middle of the day! Take that, Jackie Joyner-Kersee! I'd like to see you try, Flo Jo!

It was a beautiful, sunny day, and I had absolutely no idea what to do with myself. Somewhere in the back of my head was the beginnings of a panic attack- I'd been scraping by, and now I was completely jobless- but I stuck my middle finger up at said panic attack and kept on truckin'. I walked the 15 or so blocks to Times Square- I may have even whistled, or jumped up and clicked my heels together, I can't say...the journey was a blur. If the pigeons and squirrels were smiling at me, or if I spun around Sound-of-Music-style amongst twirling garbage of the Manhattan streets, I wouldn't be surprised. It was like I was a living, breathing Mentos commercial! Somehow, I ended up at Virgin Megastore and browsed around a bit. I went down to the movie theatre in their basement and plunked down my last dollars on a Coke, some popcorn, and a ticket to House on Haunted Hill.

There I sat in the theatre, all alone and terribly proud of myself, munching away and having one hell of a good time. I thought the movie itself was fantastic- absolutely perfect for my mood, and I fancied myself a total rebel, sitting in a movie theatre watching a horror movie when I should've been selling books to uptight New Yorkers!

For those of you who don't know the story, the movie is a remake of the 1959 flick starring Vincent Price- I've never seen the original, so I've no idea how the two films compare. Geoffrey Rush (Shine) stars as Stephen Price, a man who's made his wealth by scaring people with thrill rides and 'haunted' amusement parks. He's hosting a birthday party at the titular house for his wife Evelyn (Famke Janssen), although he could be throwing the party simply as a lark- his real goal may be to kill his unfaithful spouse. She's got nefarious plans of her own, however, and it may be Stephen who doesn't live to see dawn. Also in the house are the party guests- a whopping 4 of them, who will each receive a check for one million bucks if they can make it through the night in the house. It's a renovated insane asylum, you see, and it's haunted, of course. Scary things happen, corny things happen, and lots of people die.

I watched House on Haunted Hill again today, and even without the taint of my personal rebellion, it's still loads of fun. Geoffrey Rush and Famke Janssen are fantastic as the warring couple- Rush particularly chews the scenery like it's made out of Laffy Taffy. There's gore a-plenty, some genuine scares, and plenty of twists and turns to keep you guessing as to who's fooling who. It's mindless enjoyment- and there's not a damn thing wrong with that, right? So turn off your brain and have fun with House on Haunted Hill- quitting your shitty job in addition is completely optional.

All Gorked Out

Today being President's Day here in America, I thought a fitting salute to the men that have led our country would be a viewing and write-up of the 1981 gothic slasher flick, Hell Night. If you're having trouble seeing exactly how that's a fitting tribute, well, you should know that as I type this I'm wearing a beard and stovepipe hat. I think I'll continue wearing the hat even after the holiday...it's rather jaunty.

Yep, that's Linda Blair there on the box art, screaming as she climbs the wrought iron gate in her flouncy top. Blair stars in Hell Night as Marti, one of four fraternity/sorority pledges who must spend the night in spooky Garth Manor to complete their initiation.

The legend of Garth Manor is explained to us on the long walk from the crazy campus costume party to the house itself by Alpha Sigma Rho head honcho Peter (Kevin Brophy). 12 years ago, Garth patriarch Raymond wigged out and slaughtered his deformed family before killing himself as well. He left one survivor: Andrew, the "gorked-out" son. I'm not even sure what that means, exactly. The other Garth family members are described as mongoloid, blind-deaf-and-dumb, dim-witted...but Andrew is constantly referred to as "gorked-out". At first, I thought Peter was saying "dorked-out", which would simply mean that Andrew was a big nerd, but...I digress. At any rate, Andrew was never found by authorities, and is said to still be living somewhere in Garth Manor! And with that, Peter padlocks the gates and tells the pledges he'll be back at dawn to release them. From the get-go, we know exactly how this movie's gonna play out, right? Sure we do, but the fun's in the getting there.

The pledges pair off into boy-girl duos and promptly split-up. Heading straight to bed are surfer dude Seth (Vincent Van Patten) and Quaalude-packin' Denise (Suki Goodwin), while Marti (Blair) and Jeff (Peter Barton) have a fireside chat about life...he's rich! She's a mechanic! One time, she thought she saw a witch! One time, he thought he saw an elf! How sweet.

Meanwhile, Peter and some cohorts have returned to Garth Manor to play some of those Spooky Sounds cassettes over a jury-rigged PA system to scare the pledges- you know, those orange tapes with sounds like screams, rattling chains, moans, creaking doors, and the such. They've got a whole night of pranks planned for the pledges, but...dare I ssay it...the joke's on them!

Soon enough, the bodies pile up, just as we knew they would. Not only is gorked-up Andrew still alive, but so is his homicidal dad! There's 2 Garth crazies stalking the halls and the underground passages...who will make it out alive after this...um...hell night? Most likely it's the one actor who starred in The Exorcist.

Hell Night has decidedly less gore and nudity than its contemporaries, but it more than makes up for these "shortcomings" with great atmosphere and some genuinely scary scenes. Director Tom DeSimone talks about both the lack of gore and the gothic feel of Hell Night in Adam Rockoff's Going to Pieces:

We knew we were making a slasher film, however, we wanted to get away mostly from the gore and try to scare them with scares, rather than repulse them with guts. A lot of our murders, although they're kind of horrific, you don't really see that much. There isn't that much bloodletting in our picture.
---
I wanted a classic Gothic look. I don't like these horror films where people are walking around haunted houses wearing jeans and t-shirts. So we threw our heads together and I said I wanted Linda in a Gothic kind of wardrobe. And we came up with the idea to make the hell night party a costume party. And that way we were able to have everyone in those kinds of costumes that suited their personality.

I'm a fan of movies that go for the scares over the shocks, and Hell Night certainly delivers on the spookiness. If you're looking for a night of restrained horror- yes, it's possible, even in a slasher!- give it a shot. I mean, Linda Blair, folks...come on now! Don't get all gorked-out on me! I give it 7 out of 10 heaving bosoms.

Time to OD!

Ah, internet 'telephone' and the joys it can bring! Via awesome reader Michelle in the comments from yesterday's post, who got it from Ain't it Cool News, who scored from Bloody-Disgusting, who copped it from BlairWitch.de, comes this sweet shot of Pyramid Head from the upcoming Silent Hill movie.
Pyramid Head is an executioner who relentlessly pursues you throughout Silent Hill 2. He's got a huge knife, he brutalizes his fellow bad guys, and he is very, very scary- despite the fact that his name is "Pyramid Head". Here's some shots from the game- SH director Christophe Gans and crew have done an unbelievable job on this.


I've decided to completely boycott the month of March in an attempt to get the April release of Silent Hill here faster. I hope you'll all join me in my efforts- if we band together, we can do anything!

ad nauseum

Mr. Chadwick H. Saxelid's got all the current skinny on the new Friday the 13th movie (via Fangoria) right here for your reading pleasure. Go forth, if it be info ye seek!

Ugh, I can't even bring myself to type about that topic anymore. Sure, I'll read about it...but I also feel a severe lethargy creeping in. Info overload! Too much speculation, too many options...my brain feels all fat with Friday the 13th possibilities, and I don't mean fat as in simply "full of tidbits", I mean fat as in sad and bloated and immobile and pretty useless, like that woman who fused with her couch. Remember the days before the internet when info was scarce and maybe you saw a trailer or two...maybe a little article in Fangoria (when it was black and white and kicked ass)...or else horror movies just appeared out of nowhere and blew you away? I liked that.

Anyway, I'm just going to sit quietly in regards to F13 until I see the movie with my own four eyes. Unless I wear contacts that night, then I'll only have two eyes...well, actually, glasses aren't really eyes so I guess I always have but two eyes. "Four eyes"? That doesn't make sense! God, kids are so dumb! Wait, that's not true. I believe the children are our future. We should teach them well and let them lead the way, whether they tease each other with nonsensical nonsense that doesn't make any sense or not.

On the other hand, just to completely contradict my previous feelings, I will admit that I suck up any little tidbits about the upcoming Silent Hill movie like they're heroin-covered crack rocks dipped in a crystal meth-and-Boone's Farm bath! There's a German horror movie site that's chock-a-block full of new pictures, and I must say...I hope someday that the Silent Hill movie and I will walk hand in metaphorical hand down some aisle somewhere to be joined in some sort of matrimony...unless we have a 'non-traditional' ceremony on the beach, of course. Forgive me, but I'm that excited about it! Mother, may I sleep with Silent Hill?




Yes, for all you cool kids in the know, that seems to be nurse Lisa (from the original game) in the bottom picture.

Siiiiiigghhhh.

I Heart: My Bloody Valentine

I'd been toying with the idea of making some sort of list of my favorite slasher flicks, but then I came up with a sweeter alternative: the "I Heart" series. Every once in a while I'll write about/review one of my super faves, and I'll stick "I Heart" in front of the title like a stamp of approval. Then I won't have to deal with that whole pain in the arse numbering system...I mean, lists are so 2 weeks ago, you know? I'm like that lady Kool & the Gang sang about: I'm fresh and exciting.

The inaugural entry in the series hails from the magical far-away land known as "Canada": 1981's My Bloody Valentine. Made early-on in the slasher heyday, MBV is obviously an attempt to cash in on the "holiday" craze prevalent in the genre. While the movie does hold with certain conventions of the slasher flick, it's a polished and mature effort that's a cut above most.

20 years ago, in the sleepy town Valentine Bluffs, an explosion trapped several miners thousands of feet below the earth. It was the night of the town's annual Valentine's Day dance, you see, and a few supervisors were so hot to trot that they left their posts unattended. Of the miners, only Harry Warden survived...and when he was finally rescued weeks after the accident, he was a stark raving nutso who had stayed alive by eating his fallen brethren. Harry was rightfully committed to an asylum, but got out and took his revenge on the neglectful supervisors years later- on the night of the Valentine's dance. Harry warned the town that so long as they held the dance, people would die. The town cried 'uncle' and has been danceless ever since...until now! The townspeople felt it was finally time to stick a metaphorical middle finger up at Harry Warden and get on with the V-Day festivities. Soon after the red construction paper hearts get taped up, however, folks end up getting killed. It seems that Harry's back and mighty pissed off at Valentine Bluffs...

Sounds by-the-book, right? Sure it does. But as I said, there's some small touches in MBV that set it apart from the pack.

First and foremost, the characters aren't your typical horny zit-faced teens. The men in MBV spend their days toiling away in the coal mines, and when 5:00 rolls around, it's Miller Time. These characters seem to have real lives, and the movie captures the feel of a small working-class town and its inhabitants quite well. It's as if these young men and women find themselves saying "is this IT?" regarding their lives, but they chug along anyway and do the best they can. Ex-lovers TJ and Sarah (Paul Kelman and Lori Hallier) are very real, very well-drawn characters- surprising in a slasher movie. TJ has returned to Valentine Bluffs after attempting to get away for good. He doesn't elaborate, but it seems he failed miserably at starting a new life in California. Now he's back and resigned to a life working in his father's mine. When TJ and Axel (Neil Affleck) come to blows over who's going to be Sarah's main squeeze, Sarah says, quite downtroddenly: "I just don't care anymore". These aren't simply nameless teens trying to score in a sleeping bag- My Bloody Valentine feels much more authentic. As screenwriter John Beaird said, he and director George Mihalka were trying to make "the Deer Hunter of horror films".

The setting of MBV also works to set it apart from the pack. A majority of the film was shot inside the Sydney Mines, near Cape Breton- it's not simply "the woods" or a soundstage. Low-wattage lights had to be used during filming to avoid explosions, which simply adds to the atmosphere. Harry Warden fades in and out of darkness as he stalks the mine shafts, his single head-lamp shining through the smoke. It's a fantastic place to film a horror movie, and Mihalka uses the mine to maximum effect: characters get lost, hear unidentifiable sounds...it's all exceedingly creepy.

Shot under an extremely tight timeline with a budget of around $2 million, My Bloody Valentine looks and feels better than movies with more money to play with. The cast, largely unknown, is above average in the acting department. While every single death scene was cut-up to meet MPAA restrictions, MBV still has its share of gruesome gore. Someday, hopefully, the restored footage will find its way onto DVD.

The wide-open ending sets up a sequel perfectly, and apparently there's one in the works, tentatively titled My Bloody Valentine 2: Return of the Miner. In the proposed sequel, TJ and Sarah are married with kids...Sarah's the sheriff of Valentine Bluffs, and the killings begin again.

This often over-looked entry in the slasher genre deserves more attention, and I'd certainly welcome a sequel. It was one of my favorite flicks when I was a young-un, and still...I Heart My Bloody Valentine!

For more info, check out the absolutely huge interview with director George Mihalka over at Terror Trap. They've also got a MBV gallery for your viewing pleasure.