Pyramid Head comes home!

Alright, so the film version of Silent Hill was by and large style over substance. But what style! What panache! What grossosity! I liked it, I tells ya, and I just can't wait for the DVD release so I can watch it again. Lucky for me, I don't have long to wait- the DVD will hit shelves on August 22. From the scant info I've read, there will be documentary upon documentary upon makings-of...but no word (that I can find) on deleted scenes.

Now I will try to leap light-years forward and post a video here...one of my favorite cutscenes from the first Silent Hill game. The character made it to the big screen; the awesomeness, sadly, did not. Bask in the grody CGI goodness, my people. Will this work? Am I technologically advanced enough to post video? Let's see...



I feel so fucking cyber!

a match made in heaven

I hope the zombies in Romero's next movie are decked out in capris and polarfleece vests. Magic, fly me to the Land of the Dead!

Oh, I'm a happy camper...

Both Fangoria and Bloody-Disgusting have the lo-down on the progress of the upcoming Return to Sleepaway Camp, the 4th film in the series.

From what I've read, the filmmakers (including Robert Hiltzik, returning as writer/director to the franchise he began) want to make the fourth entry more like the first Sleepaway; that is, to make more of a straight-up slasher flick and move away from the...err, campiness of the second and third films.

The plot is shockingly original and will not only break new ground but will dig up old ground just to spit on it and make fun of its clothes:

It's summer at Camp Manabe...and then people start to die.

Hey, "cutting-edge" has its place, and I tell ya, it ain't at Camp Manabe. I say, no matter! Sometimes you want foie gras with a nice bearnaise and caper sauce garnished with arugula and pretty pretty edible flowers, and sometimes you just want a burger. Me, I always want pizza. I'm eating some right now, as a matter of fact. I don't even know if "foie gras with a nice bearnaise and caper sauce garnished with arugula and pretty pretty edible flowers" is something anyone wants, but those were all the fancy food words I could come up with.

I digress.

Return to Sleepaway Camp has been "in production" for years now. In fact, there's some footage from it available on a bonus disc if you buy the Sleepaway Box Set. I haven't seen any of it because, of course, I bought my Sleepaway Box Set about 20 minutes before the extra-special version with a bonus disc hit shelves. I have a knack for doing that sort of thing, you see. I always buy a video game system 20 minutes before they announce a price drop and 6 times now I've adopted a baby 20 minutes before I find out I'm pregnant.

I digress yet again.

Apparently they're putting finishing touches on the movie and aiming for a DVD release later this year. Tons and tons of gore will be added to existing footage, from rats chomping on bodies to spears through eyeballs to skinned victims. Sounds like a real grody-fest. There's one quote, however, from the Fangoria article that has me really excited about this movie. Sayeth FX artist Jerome Thelia, "There's a scene in which one of the characters basically explodes..."

Aah, yessssss...preciousssssssss. You know how I love a nice explosion in my horror movies.

No one's saying Peep One about Angela making a return appearance, but a Sleepaway Camp movie without Angela is like foie gras without pretty pretty edible flowers. It simply doesn't work!

Blood Suck-er

As some of you know by now, I'm a comic book inker. Currently, I'm working on the book BloodRayne, based on the video game about a half-vampire chick who is a vampire hunter. Here's a page from the upcoming 3-issue mini-series, Plague of Dreams, which launches this August:As some of you may ALSO know by now, a couple of weeks ago I was parked behind a table at
Heroes Con. When people found out that I'm working on BloodRayne, the number two question I was asked was "Have you seen the movie?"...the number one question, of course, being "Are those Bugle Boy jeans you're wearing?". I always had to answer 'no'to the movie question, although I'd heard it's terrible (it IS a Uwe Boll movie, after all) and I'm 100% sure that the comic book is better.

I figured that since it seems everyone else has seen BloodRayne and I am working with the character...I'd might as well prepare myself and watch the damn movie. I've seen Uwe Boll's other movies, so I pretty much knew what to expect- not much. He's really the modern day Ed Wood Jr., isn't he? I will admit, though, that House of the Dead was so unbelievably bad that I enjoyed it for all its wretchedness. In fact, there was this one zombie in the background who walked across the screen in such an absurd way that I had to rewind the DVD at least 8 times to see it- it filled me with the very heights of glee! If I ever meet you, remind me to show you how the zombie was walking because I love to imitate it.

To make a long story not-so-short, I watched the debacle that is BloodRayne last night and decided to do a cartoon review. The cartoon was drawn on the fly as I watched the movie, so forgive my unruled panel borders and general sloppiness. I hang my head in deep, deep shame.

And yes, I still stand by my claim: the comic is definitely 100% better than the movie.

Shredded Cheese

Is it hot where you are right now? 'Cause it's hot where I am right now...and I tell ya, it's not just because my new shampoo has my hair bouncin' and behavin' like it's never bounced and/or behaved before. I mean it's like totally Kenny Rogers Roasters-style hot here, man. Like, it's totally I feel as if I'm wearing a jumpsuit made out of asbestos and I live in a hibachi that's on fire AND dangling from the sun at the same time-style hot, man. Now that's hot!

Incidentally, if you click on that Kenny Rogers Roasters link up there, you'll see that their motto is "It's the wood that makes it good". Just thought I'd point that out.

What, oh what is one to do when it's oh so hot and sticky out there? How does one cope with the heat and the so-very-thick air? Yes, yes...we've all crammed frozen Stouffers French Bread Pizzas down our pants to cool off, but what else is there to be done?

Fear not, my disgusting sweaty friends, for I have the solution! To battle the heat, we watch a movie about a crazed skier who dresses all in black and kills pesky snowboarders, that's what we do! Yes! We grab a big, frosty glass full of Mountain Dew or SOBE or some other hip snowboarder-friendly drink. We feel refreshed, we feel "with it"...and we settle in to watch the blood run down the snowy slopes in...SHREDDER! Ah, I feel less disgusting already, don't you? Like I'm taking a bath in York Peppermint Patties...or something that gives a similarly cool sensation.

The story here is as old as the hills themselves, kids: a young, mostly horny group of "teens" heads to an abandoned ski slope- Rocky Summit, a haunted abandoned ski slope!- for a weekend of booze, boobs, and getting killed.

Oh, yeah, sure...there's a big silly story about how the townies hate snowboarders and tried to ban snowboarders from Rocky Summit but then some snowboarders showed up anyway, right? And they totally got wasted and went snowboarding, and they made some little girl who was skiing all nervous, right? Like they were bullying her? And she smacked into a tree and died! And yeah, so the ski slope is all closed and haunted and everyone totally hates snowboarders.

Warnings and scoldings aren't enough to stop our rad group of shredders from heading up to Rocky Summit, though! They've simply got to shred! Shred 'til they're dead! I learned that term, 'shred', and how to apply it to the sport of snowboarding whilst watching the movie. I officially feel 68% hipper than I did before I watched Shredder. No more "purple stuff" for me, homies, I'm ready for Sunny D!

Our garden-variety stock characters (from the uber-annoying "funny" guy to the slut to the...other slut) soon arrive at the slopes for some of the aforementioned young-people type activities. Before you can say "Cowabunga, dude!", however, the killer (looking like the Winter Olympics edition of the black clad killer in Night School) starts doing his slalom of death!

One by one the illicit 'boarders are dispatched...and I must admit, I was entertained. Characters were killed in ways that frequently made me laugh, from the giant icicle-through-the chest to the poor girl who accidentally hung herself from the chairlift. Much time passed before anyone found her body, so the audience gets treated to many a shot of her lifeless body spinning in the cool winter breeze as it hangs from the lift...there she goes, up one side of the mountain and back down again. Maybe it was the late hour or merely the heat of a July night affecting me, but lawd almighty, it filled me with glee.

So what's the final verdict on Shredder? Hmm. That's a tough one. Well, I can't honestly say that it's a good movie, and though it's a nice throwback to the slasher heyday of the 80s, the tongue is firmly planted in cheek here. Most likely, Shredder could be classified as a horror/comedy...and while I'm not usually a fan of that sub-genre, I was damn entertained by this flick. On one hand, the acting isn't very good and it's certainly not scary. On the other hand, however, the blood flows freely and some of the kills have that "ooh, cringe" factor. It's oddly fun and there's even some wonderful lines, like my favorite: "I'm not gay, I'm just horny!" And boy, after watching this movie, I feel more in touch with Generation Y than ever! In fact, it's quite possible that I myself live only to shred now.

Before checking out Shredder, I prescribe a healthy dose of beer and/or some brain softening via exposure to intense summer heat...then crack open a Sunny D and enjoy! I give it 5.5 out of 10 eternally dangling hos.

time out

You know what? It IS all I've ever wanted.

Yes, folks, I'll be stepping away from the glow of my computer monitor for a bit...but like a nasty case of herpes, there's no getting rid of me forever. Before you know it, I'll be flaring up in your face again, my friend! In fact, you can expect an outbreak around July 6th- be sure to have your ointment ready.

For those of you who will be in the Charlotte, North Carolina environs and will miss me dearly, be sure to stop by Heroes Con the weekend of July 1st. I'll be parked behind a table with none other than Dirk "Nightmare World" Manning, each of us hawking wares and spinning tales and eating fire snacks. It'll be phat AND dope, as the kids would say.

Until my return, make me proud. Make me proud, dammit!

A New Old Nightmare

Heads up, Freddy fans...on September 26, New Line Home Entertainment will be releasing the "infinifilm" Super Ultra Wicked Awesome Mega-Packed Special Edition of A Nightmare on Elm Street. What's this so-called "infinifilm"? Exactly how super ultra wicked awesome mega-packed special is this edition? This article at Reuters has all the deets, but I'll just tell you since I know how much you hate clicking links.

Using the "infinifilm" option, viewers can access behind-the-scenes documentaries, interviews and other extras as they are watching the film, so the bonus materials can be digested in context.

Among the bonus features New Line is preparing are audio essays with director Wes Craven and star Robert Englund, documentaries on the franchise's origins and its legacy, a trivia challenge and a making-of feature.

I suddenly feel like I'm on The Jetsons or something...it sounds so futuristic! Hmm. It'll be like a Pop-Up Video! Sounds like some cool bonus junk. I guess I'd have to see it in action to judge it, but do I want an interview with Heather Langenkamp cutting in at a big moment of action? Maybe, if she's talking about hair care. I think she's got that under control now.

In other news, I love this picture of Freddy...he's so lovely, posing with his glove. I believe it's from his senior portrait portfolio. My favorite, though, is the one where he's leaning against a tree in his football jersey, ungloved hand casually in a pocket.

If only...

I'm sure you kids may be hip to the fact that YouTube and similar sites are all the rage these days; people upload clips and trailers from exiting movies and shows, boring videos of their friends drinking beer, or the cutest little baby doing the cutest little thing. Super creative types have even taken to making and posting trailers for fake movies all over the InterNerd, like this one for Leprechaun vs. Wishmaster (as reported by Fangoria).


Oh, Leprechaun vs Wishmaster, why aren't you real? Why? Why do you tease me from cyberspace? Maybe, dear reader, if we all synchronize ourselves and hope really hard at the exact same moment all around the world, one day Leprechaun vs Wishmaster will become a real boy movie.

I'd watch Leprechaun vs. anybody. Anybody! Even vs. this guy, whom I hate hate hate. Come to think of it, I'd especially watch Leprechaun vs. that guy. Sigh.

You know by now that I love the Leprechaun movies. I know I shouldn't...I know they're bad for me, but I can't help myself. They're like bacon or the Spice Girls or something. My mind says no, but my heart cries YES! I try to deny my feelings, but the next thing I know my friends (whom I've suckered into accompanying me, though they're having just as awesome a time as I am which they'll later admit) and I are the only people in the audience over the age of 12, but it doesn't matter because we've got front row center tickets and before you know it I'm boasting "The Baby one looked at me!" and...umm...not that I'm actually admitting to seeing the Spice Girls in concert or anything.

What? Why are you looking at me like that?

Won't someone make a Leprechaun vs. ... movie and make Final Girl's dreams come true?

nuking chestnuts

Now let me tell you, I haven't seen the trailer for Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning yet. It's only viewable during certain times of the day or something...and sad to say, I'm on an old hand-cranked dial-up internet here. Thus, a viewing will have to come later for me. Sigh. I did see this still from the trailer, though...and it certainly fulfilled my what the fuck?? quota for today.

I have no clue as to who that is, what's going on, or why a shot like that would be in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. What I do know, however, is that the next time I spot one of these at a flea market:

I'm totally buying it and re-selling it on eBay to some hapless horror fan. It's rare TCM memorabilia, dude! No reserve!

USDA

Courtesy of Theeeee Onion:
It's good to know that someone has a zombie's health and best interests at heart.

roasting chestnuts

Yesterday there was news about attempts to squeeze a bit more life money from Halloween's teat...today there's the poster for the upcoming Texas Chainsaw Massacre prequel, The Beginning.

This poster cracks me up. Sure, the color scheme is lovely, the film grain, while obviously Photoshopped, is a nice touch. But that picture of Leatherface...man. Is he some sort of angst-y loner in this movie? Is he struggling to find his identity by hitting the road with his chainsaw...or is he out for justice? One man and his chainsaw, walking off into the stormclouds. It's like a Tobe Hooper, Sergio Leone, and Vincent Gallo clusterfuck.

And then there's "WITNESS THE BIRTH OF FEAR"...honestly, I'd rather not witness the birth of anything. Yeah, yeah...miracle of life and all that- it's still fucking gross.

Item!

According to Reuters movie news, Rob Zombie will be picking up writing and directing duties for the next Halloween flick, due out October, 2007. He's got a brand new vision! Yes, yes, they all say that, but perhaps Mr. Zombie means it. Sayeth Monsieur Zombie:

The look and the feel is going to be completely different. Halloween started off as a very terrifying concept, a terrifying movie. But over the years, Michael Myers has become a friendly Halloween mask. When it came to the point where you could buy a Michael Myers doll that was cute-looking and press its stomach and play the 'Halloween' theme, you knew the scare factor was gone.

But I think the story and the situation is scary. All it needed was someone to come in and to take a totally different approach to make it scary again. To me, that's the challenge and that's the fun.

He'll be ignoring EVERYTHING that has come before- all the sequels, all the crap- to create...not a sequel or a remake, but...you guessed it...a re-imagining.

This could be an interesting choice. I've yet to see The Devil's Rejects, but I found House of 1000 Corpses to be incredibly disappointing to put it mildly. To put it less mildly, I hated it. I admire the man's moxie and the fact that he's obviously a huge horror fan. I sort of caught glimpses of what he was going for in Corpses, but I thought it was highly unentertaining. Whatever he does to the Halloween franchise, it can't possibly be worse than Halloween 6 or the last rumblings of a Part 9 I heard- the whole Michael-in-the-asylum business.

A Rob Zombie slasher movie could be fun. He says the word 'scary' a whole bunch of times, so...umm...you know...that's something, right? And Sheri Moon-Zombie would make a perfect Lynda, come to think of it.

Final Girl Has Risen from the Grave

Just imagine...there I was, trapped underneath a pile of debris on the bottom of Crystal Lake. Damn that telekinetic Lar Park Lincoln and her resurrected father!

I thought that perhaps, finally, this was truly the end of me. I lay under that crumbled dock for weeks! Rotting! Stinking! All chained up with no one to love kill!

Lucky for me, however, a couple of horny teens came putt-putt-putting along the lake in their own personal Love Boat. Also lucky for me is the fact that there are high-voltage power cables running along the sandy lake floor! Even luckier for me- can you believe it? I should play Lotto, I swear!- the horny teens' anchor plowed right into that power cable!

With a mighty "ZZZAAKKK!!", I broke free from my chains (much like Wilson Phillips), rose up from the watery depths, and thanked the horny teens for their with the business end of my speargun. And no, silly, that's not a euphemism!

So I'm back...a wee bit waterlogged, a tiny bit slimy, sorta oozy...but back and better than ever! I'm a-puttin' on a fresh hockey mask and a-gettin' down to business.

Ki-ki-ki
Ma-ma-ma
Do-do-do
Re-re-re
Mi-mi-mi

Ghost Week Day 9: The Screaming Woman

All right, I need to get this out of the way up front: there are no ghosts in The Screaming Woman. I thought there would be, but alas, no.

Phew...there. Now hopefully when we get to the end of this thing you won't be as disappointed as I was.

The Screaming Woman is the title of an episode of Ray Bradbury Theatre...a show I loved to death when it was on in the mid-late 80s. I found a DVD with about 15 episodes from various seasons, and I figured The Screaming Woman would be good for some supernatural fun. Oh, how wrong I was.

For those of you unfamiliar with the show, Ray Bradbury Theatre was simply that: each episode was an adaptation of a Bradbury story, usually featuring guest stars the likes of William Shatner and James Coco. The intro to each episode was virtually the same: Bradbury himself, in his cluttered-beyond-belief office, would pick up an object of "story inspiration"- then it'd fade right into that episode's story.

Somehow, Bradbury's item of choice for The Screaming Woman was a dousing rod, given to him by some random crazy old guy whilst Bradbury was out...presumably birdwatching. Yeah, it's a stretch, but you know writers- where do they get their ideas?!

Drew Barrymore (in that post-ET, pre-comeback era) stars as Heather, an easily distracted young girl who spends her time reading EC comics and imagining that the monsters and such found on the four-color pages are real. Whilst parked on her butt reading comics one afternoon (instead of buying ice cream, like she should be), Heather hears the faint sounds of a woman screaming coming from the nearby woods. She follows the sounds into the trees and stops when she hears ghostly cries and feels a ghostly wind on her ghostly face.

Heather tells everyone she knows- her parents, her friends- about the voice in the woods, but no one believes her. At dinner, her mother notes that speaking of screaming, their neighbors the Nesbitts were yelling at each other again last night. Then, the screaming stopped!

Golly, I wonder where this is going.

That night, Heather gets her Encyclopedia Brown on and calls on Mr Nesbitt. He'e sorta sweaty, and acts real nervous when Heather inquires as to the whereabouts of the missus. Mr Nesbitt offers Heather a drink, and she rightly hightails it outta there.

Even later that night, Heather sneaks out of bed and heads back into the woods. She hears the ghostly screams again- and she's tackled by Mr Nesbitt! I never saw it coming! Luckily, Heather's father followed her into the woods- he konks the evil Mr Nesbitt on the head with a flashlight, and everything is OK.

The po-po are called in and start digging where Heather heard the screams- gasp! There's a wooden coffin! Gasp Part 2! Mrs Nesbitt is inside- still alive! Heather has saved the day. Bully for her.

Maybe I'm too grown-up and jaded for Ray Bradbury Theatre now...or maybe The Screaming Woman was simply a stinker of an episode. Time will tell. Had I written this, however, the last act would've gone like this:

Heather gets out of bed and goes to the spot in the woods. Mr Nesbitt attacks her, but Mrs Nesbitt- who is actually dead; I mean, who goes through the trouble of putting someone in a big coffin, hauling it out to the woods and burying it- and not even killing her? If you're going to bury her alive, just bury her in the dirt- why put her in a coffin and give her all that air? Just get it over with, dude!

Err...anyway...yes. Mrs Nesbitt claws her way out of the earth as a zombie, kills Mr Nesbitt, and...I don't know. Then she explodes.

Boo on this one, Ray Bradbury! I give it 3 out of 10 my ending is better!s.

Ghost Week Day 8: The Shining

"We're all gonna have a real good time."

Yes, folks, it's time to discuss one of the Big Mother Ghost Movies, Stanley Kubrick's beautiful, messy masterwork of horror, 1980's The Shining.

Most genre fans, if not just plain ol' movie fans, know the film's plot by now. Meet...the Torrance family. Father Jack (Jack Nicholson) is a frustrated writer and recovering alcoholic. His wife Wendy (Shelley Duvall) tries her best to keep the family together despite all the problems. What she lacks in self-esteem she more than makes up for with love for her son Danny (Danny Lloyd). Danny's gifted with "the shining", a psychic ability that allows him to see glimpses of the past, present, and future. Not entirely sure how to deal with his visions, Danny has invented Tony, the boy who lives in Danny's mouth and "tells him things".

After losing his teaching position, Jack takes the job of caretaker for the Overlook Hotel while it's closed up for the long Colorado winter. Soon after the Torrances are shut up inside the sprawling hotel, the malevolent forces of the Overlook begin to manifest themselves, calling to Jack. Already in a position of instability mentally, Jack soon descends into madness and attempts to kill his wife and son by "chopping them up into pieces" with an axe. With the help of hotel cook Dick Halloran (Scatman Crothers), who also "shines", Wendy and Danny escape the Overlook and its raging caretaker. After killing Dick, Jack becomes lost in the hedge maze outside the hotel and ends up freezing to death in the brutal cold night.

It had been some time since I'd seen The Shining, and while I've always enjoyed it (and gotten some good creepy scares out of it), what struck me most while watching it today was the beauty of the whole thing. Visually, The Shining is one of the most stunning films I've ever seen- finding a horror movie to top it in that regard would be no easy task.

The opening sequences of the Torrance family VW Beetle driving to the Overlook are breathtaking...with the mountainous scenery, that's unavoidable. However, Kubrick effectively uses the dirge-like sounds of Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique and sweeping camera shots to effuse the sunny landscape with a surprising feeling of bottomed-out dread. The camera, so high above the tiny yellow car, follows along- an unseen force travelling right behind Jack until eventually the car is overtaken and the camera moves on to the hotel itself, grand and imposing. Even over my lunchtime ravioli, the sequence was chilling.

The Overlook Hotel is an evil place...it's got its ghosts. It's got a bloody history which may or may not have to do with the fact that it's built on the site of an Indian burial ground. What's unusual about this story, however, is the fact that the hotel isn't obviously haunted. It's a perfectly functional, brightly lit, popular resort hotel...until the caretaker takes over. What is it that amps up the evil energy in the building? Who knows. Kubrick and co-screenwriter Diane Johnson don't tell us.

Much of The Shining is open to interpretation. What exactly lurks in Room 237? Again, who knows. We do, however, know that it's real, as are all of the ghosts in the Overlook. They don't simply pass through walls, they don't fade away- whatever they are, they're as real as you or I. They can pour you a drink, they can roll you a ball...they can unlock doors and leave bruises on a young boy's throat. Beyond that, however, they need the "caretaker" to capitulate to their desires before they can claim their victims. It's the caretaker, not the ghosts, that chop families up into bits.

The title placards used during the film subtly show the build in intensity as events reach a fevered pitch- the leisurely pace of "one month later" gives way to daily updates ("Thursday") which give way to specific hours. Despite this seemingly frantic pace, there's no sense of linear time in the Overlook itself...events crisscross back and forth, while the past, present, and future are all liquid, running into and over one another repeatedly. Everyone, it seems, has their role to play as events play out time and time again. Charles Grady has been a caretaker, so has Delbert Grady...here's Jack Torrance in 1980, and there he is in a photograph dated 1921. Is it reincarnation? Maybe, maybe not. While Jack is told he's "always been the caretaker" and Jack himself expresses feelings of deja vu, we have no clue who was the caretaker the year before Jack or the year before Grady, for that matter. Various characters intone the phrase "forever and ever" repeatedly, as if there is no beginning or end to anything at the Overlook. Additionally in that regard, it's very telling that Jack's life ends inside of a maze- he's trapped in the cycle of time, consumed at last by the hotel.

While Jack Nicholson's performance is the one that people remember from The Shining, I've always found it to be way too over-the-top. Occasionally there are true flashes of brilliance, but they come in the quiet moments; his reaction to Wendy's accusations when she finds bruises on Danny's neck, for example. Nicholson conveys surprise, confusion, anger, and detachment without uttering a word. As he goes deeper into "Crazytown", though, it's such an obvious act that to me, any potential terror is taken out of the equation. Folks might disagree with me because everyone loves the "Here's Johnny!" and "Honey, I'm home" quips, but watch it all again and see- particularly during his conversations with Lloyd, the ghostly bartender. Nicholson mugs, rolls his eyes, wags his tongue, shucks, and jives as he acts "insane", and it's all put-upon to the point of distraction. We shouldn't be laughing at him- this man has descended far enough into madness that he's got an uncontrollable bloodlust for his wife and young son. He's a monster, but I don't think that ever really comes across effectively. The role, I think, would have been served better by a more understated performance.

The performance that does knock me out throughout the film is that by Shelley Duvall. The nervous tics and slight stutters during a calm conversation with the child psychologist early on betray so much about Wendy Torrance; as she attempts to rationalize her husband's violent outbursts, her cigarette ash grows longer...and Duvall's line readings are so effortless that it seems as if she's not acting at all. Whereas Jack Nicholson acts crazy, even at her most manic Duvall doesn't get all wrapped up in histrionics and obvious attempts at acting scared- she simply is. She's bleary-eyed and terrified, but most importantly, she's confused by her husband- she doesn't understand what's happening and why he's suddenly turned homicidal. It's an outstanding, amazing performance.

Aside: is it just me, or does Danny sport the best outfits in this movie? I should be ashamed of wanting to dress like a 6-year-old boy from 1980, but he's such a little fashion plate. His sweaters are fucking rad.

Kubrick manages to induce feelings of being trapped in a space where you wouldn't expect to experience them: the huge, sprawling hotel. During the tour of the building, Wendy comments that she'll need to leave a trail of breadcrumbs everywhere she goes so she won't get lost. How could cabin fever set in in such vast space? It seems impossible, but the audience experiences it firsthand thanks to Kubrick's brilliant shot composition and framing. There are hundreds of instances where the director uses symmetry in the shots, putting the focus directly in the center of the frame. It's a confrontational, objective, and detached view, and yet the limited scope leaves the viewer feeling cramped, even in the largest rooms. He very frequently adds the ceiling in the shot as well, to heighten the claustrophobic effect. Some examples:

Methinks me smells a lietmotif.

And yeah, there they are- those damn creepy Grady Girls.

While it's not a flawless film, The Shining is a damn fine horror movie that loses little impact over the years, even through repeated viewings. It seems I find something new to admire about it every time I see it. Visually, it's a stunning achievement. The Overlook Hotel is one bad, bad place...but only sometimes. I give it 9 out of 10 rocket ship sweaters.

FYI, there's a fantastic page of trivia about The Shining over at imdb.com. Follow this link.

Ghost Week Day Off: 2

Sorry, kids, I got all wrapped up in a videogame today and ran out of time to watch a movie. Those damn X-Men and their adventures! You know how it goes- "I'll just play a little more until I get to a stopping point." "Well, I really wanna see what happens next." "But...I have to rescue Beast right this minute!" and so on until I've lost all track of time, I've fused with my couch, and I've grown a big ZZ Top beard.

So today you get two things instead of a ghost-ish movie review...first, a link I neglected to put up a few days ago. My latest column, Mommy Knows Best, is up at Pretty/Scary and I totally forgot to mention it, so there you go.

Secondly, I have no reason to post this film still, except that I love it oh so very much.

As I said at the time, it's simply the best reaction to anything in the history of ever. If you're wondering what "at the time" I'm referring to, it's from my review of Home for the Holidays.

Hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to think about something besides X-Men Legends II...but I promise nothing!

Ghost Week Day 7: Nightmare Castle

Horror icon Barbara Steele stars in Nightmare Castle, a gothic tale of revenge from beyond the grave. The 1965 film (also known as Lovers From Beyond the Tomb, Night of the Doomed, The Faceless Monster, and...uh...Orgasmo), directed by Mario Caiano (credited as Allan Grunewald) oozes sexuality and blood in about equal doses.

Barbara Steele plays Muriel Arrowsmith, a wealthy vixen who can't wait for her mad scientist husband Stephen (Paul Muller) to leave so she can get it on with David (Rik Battaglia), her lover and gardener. What the pair don't know is that Stephen has a spy in the house: the old, decrepit maid Solange (Helga Line), whose face looks not so much wrinkled as it looks like it's covered in dried Elmer's Glue. No sooner are Muriel and David gettin' down to some hanky panky in the greenhouse then Stephen returns to catch them in flagrante. He chains them up in his laboratory and sadisically tortures them, promising that the release of death won't come for a long time: "You don't know how long it takes to die from pain!". Muriel, unafraid, hisses in return, "You can kill my body, but I'll never leave you in peace! Never! NEVER!"

Finally, Stephen sets about electrocuting the lovers...but before they die, Muriel has the last laugh. She assures Stephen that he won't see a penny of her riches- she's left her cast wealth and the castle to her 'barely sane' stepsister Jenny. In your face, crazy husband!

After he's killed them, Stephen gets his mad scientist on- he cuts up their bodies, preserving their hearts in a tank full of liquid. He cremates the remains and uses the ashes as a home-made Miracle Gro on his houseplants. He also gives his faithful helper Solange a transfusion with Muriel's blood. Somehow this restores Solange's youthful appearance, and she and Stephen are at long last able to be lovers. Eww.

Because he's a greedy bastard, Stephen ends up marrying Muriel's stepsister Jenny (also played by Barbara Steele- this time in a blonde wig!) with the hopes that he can push her over the edge into raging insanity. He can then have her locked up, take control of all her money, and live happily with Solange.

After he brings her home, Jenny immediately begins having freaky experiences. She hears heartbeats, laughter, and sees blood dripping from the weird houseplants. She has trippy, creepy nightmares about the murder in which she assumes the role of Muriel. Is she going crazy?


Because he needs a doctor to stamp "INSANE" on her hand before he can ship her off, Stephen calls in Jenny's psychiatrist, Dr. Joyce (Laurence Clift) to make a diagnosis. This is where Nightmare Castle loses some steam. The spooky dreams are no longer shown, but rather just talked about. Solange and Stephen have alot of arguments and spend their time plotting their next steps. Stephen tries to kill Dr. Joyce with an electrified bathtub, but only succeeds in accidentally killing the poor butler.

Things pick up again for a fast and furious finale, however. Solange's original transfusion is starting to wear off and it's making her sick...she says her blood is cold and heavy and painful, like mercury. Stephen hooks both her and Jenny up to the Tranfuse-O-Meter (unfortunately, that's just my name for it), killing two birds with one stone: keeping Solange young and getting rid of Jenny at the same time.

Meanwhile, Dr. Joyce finds the tank containing the hearts of David and Muriel. As he sets the tank on a table the lovers return, all grossified and ready for action in a sequence that reminded me of the "Something to Tide You Over" sequence from Creepshow.

Muriel, now half-lovely and half-grody, seeks her vengeance on Stephen. She states her intention to treat him to what she calls the "torment to ecstacy", which apparently just means she's gonna set him on fire. Bye bye, mad scientist!

It's up to David to finish off Solange, which he does quite easily: he unhooks her from the Tranfuse-O-Meter, which...somehow...speeds up the aging process, turning her in to a skeleton right there on the table!

Dr. Joyce rushes into the lab, grabs Jenny, and chucks the disembodied hearts into the burning fireplace. The ghosts of David and Muriel disappear, and all is well in Nightmare Castle.

The first and last 15 minutes of this flick were great- there was some startling imagery, some creepy sequences, some interesting notions about the nature of life and death, and enough gore to be intriguing without being explicit or gross. The film really suffers in the middle hour or so when the pace slows to a crawl. It's unfortunate, because it keeps Nightmare Castle from being the great old gothic horror movie it could have been. What we have here, folks, is a Tiiffany. I give it 5 out of 10 hearts afire.

Ghost Week Day 6: The Nun

My already high hopes for The Nun (La Monja in its original Spanish) went through the roof when the jaded video store clerk checked out the box and said "This movie looks awesome!" Yes, jaded video store clerk, that's what I thought, too- oh, but how wrong we were.

18 years ago, the cruel, vaguely attractive Sister Ursula is using a shower head and scalding water to "purify" a pregnant student at her Barcelona boarding school. Hearing her screams, the girl's friends rush in and wrestle with Sister Ursula. She falls and bangs her head. As she lies there, the girls start to freak out...then it becomes obvious that she's not dead- so they hold her under the water and finish the job. They dump her body in the "blessed pool" on the school grounds and make the usual pact that will come back to bite them in the ass: let's promise never to tell what we've done! Total pinky swear. God, that device has been used so many frickin' times in horror movies...

Anyway, soon enough the guilty parties are being killed one by one by the nun's spirit, who can only manifest herself near water. The "product of sin" from 18 years ago, Eve, is all grown up now, and after witnessing the death of her mother at Sister Ursula's wispy, watery hands, she's determined to kick some nun ass.

For about 15 minutes, The Nun was all ten kinds of wicked sweet. The sound design was killer and used to great effect in the sequence above where Eve's mom gets it. The scene was actually tense, a little gory, nicely shot, well acted, and the nun was in the scene just long enough for you to get a little freaked out- she didn't overstay her welcome. I was really quite surprised by the first 15 minute of the movie, and very much looking forward to the next hour and a half or so.

Then, before I knew it, it all went horribly, horribly wrong. I'm not sure if I can pinpoint the exact moment when the train went off the tracks, but oh my my my did it. One big, fat, huge mistake was the portrayal of the ethereal nun after the initial encounter with her. Instead of just sweeping by quickly or having her remaining in the shadows, the filmmakers lingered on her for so long that there were long periods of time where she'd be in front of or behind someone, doing little more than mugging. I mean, this was like, silent movie, Bela Lugosi-esque "scary faces". I wouldn't have been surprised if she had actually began uttering "Booga booga!" or something to that effect. It got to the point where all you could do was cry "What is she doing? Why is she doing that?" I mean, imagine her waving back and forth for a while here, and add your own "Rarr!" sound effect for maximum enjoyment:

BOOGA BOOGA! Groan.

The end result was a movie that had many laugh-out-loud moments leading up to one of the most ludicrous, nonsensical "twist" endings in the history of ever. Even M Night Shyamalan wouldn't crap out an ending this bad during a bout of malaria-induced fever dreams. The problem is, it wasn't consistently bad enough to qualify as a good/bad classic- unfortunately, The Nun isn't worth seeking out for a night of scares OR a night or raucous bad-movie entertainment, and I was desperatly hoping, even before I brought it home, that it would qualify as one or the other. Instead, it falls squarely in that middle ground, that No Man's Land where a movie just...exists, neither acid nor base on the litmus paper. If it's on cable late at night, maybe check it out for some laughs. Otherwise...it's best if I just finish this thing off with a few choice comments and snippets of conversation from either Rachael or myself during viewing- some requiring context, others not.

"She looks like she's had plastic surgery."
"Yeah- her cheeks."
"And that nose- she probably thought it was going to be a good nose but then she just ended up with really big nipples."
"Nip-?"
"Nostrils."

(As two people, in horror-movie fashion, start to get it on in the middle of all the madness): "Hey! Now is really not the time!"
"Oh, come on- ghost hunting and nun killing always make people horny."

"I'd rather watch a million people be killed than watch ONE person clip their toenails--and struggle with it!" (Yes, probably the most disturbing sequence in the film)

"How did she shoot herself in the chest with a spear gun?"
"Never mind how---why??"

And lastly...the sequence during which I would have peed a little due to laughter had I not been so in shock. Eve and friends are on a plane, en route to Barcelona to solve the mystery. Everyone's asleep except Eve, who starts looking around the plane. She slowly turns to look out the window, and Rachael says "Watch, the nun will be on the wing of the plane!". I laughed and started imitating the nun's little wispy watery booga booga action, throwing in a little Twilight Zone Nightmare at 20,000 Feet for good measure. Then the camera swings over Eve's shoulder, looking out the plane window, and I kid you fucking not:

I could NOT believe what I was seeing. The nun. On the fucking wing of the plane, hitching a ride.

The Nun took itself way too seriously and had long stretches of dull space. If there had been more SuperCheese like the nun on the wing of the plane (God, I still can't believe that one), I'd watch it again, right now. As it stands, it just kinda stinks- and the ending...girl, don't even get me started. I give it 4 out of 10 scalding water abortions.

Ghost Week Day Off

Yeah, you heard me. Day off. See, because I like my reviews to be fresh like a Summer's Eve, I watch the movies I review on the day of the review, even if I've seen the movie a zillion times. Thing is, though, today I just didn't feel like watching a horror movie. I know...I know. I'm a disappoint meant to you, but even more importantly, I'm a disappointment to French-Canadian singing sensation Celine Dion...so much so, I cause her physical pain with my lameness.

I'm so sorry. Today, you see, I was in a total 1983 comedy classic The Man With Two Brains starring Steve Martin, Kathleen Turner, and the voice of Sissy Spacek kind of mood. Forgive me.

The good news is, I'm having such fun with Ghost Week that I'm going to extend it into something longer...Ghost Fortnight, perhaps.

I'll be back tomorrow with the horror, and that makes us all happy, yeah? Even you...right, French-Canadian singing sensation Celine Dion?

Ghost Week Day 5: The Changeling

When I started making a list of movies to review for Ghost Week, The Changeling sprang to mind almost immediately. As one of the few haunted house flicks that I find most unnervingly scary, there was no way to have this "event" and not talk about it. Most people who've seen it seem to be in agreement about it's effectiveness. In fact, I thought to myself one sunny afternoon, "Hey, doesn't that girl I know like The Changeling a whole bunch? Boy, if I could get her to write about it, then I'd have lots more time to devote to my crack habit helping the elderly!"

Well, she agreed to write up a little something for us, and so without further ado, I present the very first guest column here at Final Girl, written by some girl who calls herself Filthy Assistant. She's wanted by the authorities for something called "human" "trafficking", whatever that means, so she needs to use an alias. It's awfully kind of her to take a time-out from running from the po-po to write this, don't you think?

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What's the most unsettling image you can think of? A crazy Japanese woman creeping across the floor to come get you? The demon face in The Exorcist? Your mother-in-law, legs akimbo, with a jar of crunchy peanut butter and the family Alsatian?

If you answered any of these, you've never seen The Changeling.

Those of us who have damn near burst open either a cushion or a loved one whilst watching Peter Medak's 1980 classic ghost story know there aren't many things more frightening than a child's red rubber ball THUD THUD THUDing down a flight of stairs.

George C. Scott plays John Russell, a distinguished composer who moves to Seattle and rents an old house from the Historical Preservation Society following the death of his wife and child. And yes, you guessed it, there is something in the house. In the words of the delightful Minnie, the Society's 'Employee Most Resembling A Bulldog 1979,' "That house is not fit to live in. No-one has been able to live in it. It doesn't want people."

But John Russell is not "no-one." Vulnerable from his recent personal tragedy and convinced that whatever haunts the house is desperately trying to communicate with him, John enlists the help of friend and Historical Preservation Society employee Claire Norman, played by George C's then wife, Trish Van Devere. Together they investigate the house's history in an attempt to uncover its secrets, and the film turns part horror, part murder mystery as our protagonist's quest for the truth (and the ghostly occurrences that haunt him) become more frantic. After some amateur detective work indicates Cora Bernard, a young girl living in the house in the early 1900s, was killed in a similar manner to John's own daughter, he arranges for a psychic to visit the house and the mystery begins to unfold.

The séance scene provides a perfect example of one of the spine-chilling shots that pepper the film. With all the guests seated at a table in dark, we see the attic door creak open of its own volition, followed by the camera sweeping at child height through the house and down the stairs towards the gathering. As the camera approaches the table, the psychic announces "The presence…is with us" and you will pee yourself slightly, I guarantee it. By the time John, alone in the house and trying to come to terms with what he's seen, plays back the audio recording he made of the séance, you will be wide-eyed and whimpering.

And not because of Alsatians, peanut butter or mother-in-laws.

So, an old house, a séance, a dead child - this may all sound like standard horror fare and you'll notice that many of the motifs have been cherry-picked by more recent films (The Ring springs to mind – obscure pun intentional) but the pacing and attention to detail is impeccable. It's testament to the completely absorbing atmosphere that even after ten viewings I still won't watch this film without a friend, relative or innocent passerby entering into a legally binding contract that they won't leave me alone in the house that night.

The Changeling is simply a classic, chilling ghost story. Trish Van Devere and Melvyn Douglas provide strong turns but what makes this film for me is not the supporting cast or the skilfully sustained suspense; it's not the haunting soundtrack and it's not the sweeping camera shots that move eerily through the old house from a ghostly perspective. It's good old George C.

No matter how understated his performance, this is still a big bear of a man. He's been around. He's seen some things. He has, one suspects, no time for hokum, frippery, piffle or any of the other excellent words that I never get a chance to use.

So when George C. Scott backs away from something with a look of sheer terror on his face, as he does frequently in this film, then you know there is good reason to be very, very afraid.