Happy Friday the 13th!

It's true, I feel a bit of a moral imperative to post when a Friday the 13th rolls around. Sure, sure, I practically grew up with the film series like any good horror young'un. But it's really in the period since I started Final Girl that I've become well and truly enamored with the antics of Jason, his mama, and even that Roy fellow. It could be that the property itself has been celebrated by the community at large, what with the His Name Was Jason and the Crystal Lake Memories (the book and the documentary!) and the such. I've written about victims (I know...I should bring that feature back), I've drawn the victims (and the killers)..I've devoted a shit ton of my limited brain space to Friday the 13th!

And I tell ya, it still surprises me. See, in the world of fandoms there are certain battles that are destined to be eternally waged: The Beatles vs The Rolling Stones, Yankees vs Red Sox, Star Trek vs The Next Generation, Old Becky vs New Becky, Riunite vs Riunite on Ice. Everyone chooses a side and sticks with it forever, and in the Friday the 13th vs Halloween battle I've always been a Halloween girl. I still am! Yet...look, I've always treated Friday like a dirty secret, like an awful person I'm ashamed to date. But here it is: I can no longer deny that as a whole I prefer the Friday series. AS A WHOLE. Maybe I've been too heavily influenced by all the hours I've spent in its company, but I'd most definitely rather watch Friday the 13th Part V than Halloween 5.

If you like this image, you can buy it on a t-shirt or a print or something right here!

I've spent time this morning ruminating on who my favorite Friday the 13th character is. Not my favorite kill or my favorite final girl, but my overall favorite character.

Correction: I've spent WAY TOO MUCH time. Like, "this question is on par with 'what is the purpose of life?' amounts of time.

And I still don't have an answer, but no matter. Somewhere along the way "who is my favorite?" became "who would I want to hang out with?" and that's a way better question. Will I find an answer? WILL I?

Jimmy (The Final Chapter)

Would I want to hang out with Jimmy? Fuck no! I bet he'd be really annoying in a short amount of time. Even if he weren't, you'd probably get stuck hanging out with Ted as well, and you know he's the worst.

Violet (A New Beginning)

Listen, even if you want to hang out with Violet, she sure as shit doesn't want to hang out with you. She's so surly! You'd say "Hey Violet, wha–" and she'd say "Fuck off."

Maddy (The New Blood)

Maddy might be okay, like she'd be down to play some Dungeons & Dragons maybe. But she'd also spend a lot of time complaining about stuff and that would be too much like hanging out with myself.

Doug and Sara (The Final Chapter)

They're awfully nice and adorable and surprisingly mature for a Friday film, but...bleh. I feel like he would want to talk about finances and she would never want to go get Indian food because she's afraid it might be "too spicy".

Mark (Part II)

Okay, I would totally hang out with Mark! He seems so nice, and who wouldn't want to look at that handsome face all the time? Here's the thing, though: my apartment isn't wheelchair-accessible, so we'd have to hang out at his place or out out all the time. That's fine and all, but it doesn't really jive with my "creepy recluse" lifestyle and I'm sure we'd only hang out like twice before we just stopped texting each other.

JJ (Jason Takes Manhattan)

She might be cool...for ten minutes. Beyond that, you know she'd bring her guitar everywhere and she'd want to play all the time and you'd have to cope with that while secretly thinking that her music is garbage and you'd feel bad about that because you're supposed to be her friend and it's not like you have any musical talent for sure so who are you to judge well maybe you're just a terrible person because unterrible people don't think those sorts of things so do you just accept your station in life or try to change and for fuck's sake you don't really have much in common with JJ when you really think about it so it's best if you quit hanging out. Or something like that.

Fox (Part 3)

I imagine hitting it off well with Fox, but then ultimately she'd keep showing up at my place with her friends in tow wanting to "party" and I'd have to be like "Fox, I'm reading right now" but I'd let them all in anyway. Then the next day I'd wake up and my place would be trashed and all my booze would be gone and some DVDs would be missing and I'd be so mad, but then I'd think "Well, they are literally a gang so what did I expect?"

Brenda (Friday the 13th)

Okay, Brenda seems nice and all, and she reads, but–

Wait! I don't think there's a but! I would totally hang out with Brenda.

Ginny, Paul, Ted (Part 2)

I would also hang out with these three. Right? Only a jerk wouldn't want to.

So there you go. Out of, like, 200 characters in the series, I've found four I would hang out with. I could go through everyone else, but it would probably take me the rest of my life to go through them all. Suffice it to say, everyone else would probably be dismissed with a "boring", "gross", "annoying", "what would we talk about?", or "obnoxious".

Unless I'm forgetting someone awesome...so tell me. Who would you hang out with?

why you gotta test me

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

BUT THEN.

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

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

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

Here are your new martyrs:

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

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

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

and...breathe...

*pshooooooo*

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

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

amazon one-star reviews: CHILDREN OF THE CORN (1984)

About a year and a half ago, I gave a day of my life to a little something called The Corn-ening, wherein I watched all of the Children of the Corn movies in a row. These marathons are are an endurance test for sure! No matter the series, around film #4 I begin to question my sanity, the point of the marathon, the point of movies in general, the point of my life. But, you know, I keep on sloggin' away on my vision quest and eventually I emerge on the other side in the harsh light of a new day, having achieved...well, nothing, really. I don't think I learned anything, either. But it's the journey that's the thing, right? I read that on an inspirational watercolor painting in a bathroom one time.

Anyway, this one-star review for Children of the Corn struck a chord, for the reviewer embarks on his or her own personal corn journey. It begins with confusion, moves through disappointment, and ends at place that's "[not] bad"...of course, this person also logged on and gave the film a one-star review at the mid-point of the movie, so who knows how it really ended? What a cliffhanger! But again, I remind myself: it's the journey that's the thing.

Back in the day I watched a movie called Children of the Corn. Well at less that's what I thought it was called. It starts with a small town. Everyone is put on a spell and fell asleep. After everyone wakes up all of the woman are pregnant. Everyone gives birth to children who want to kill the town. Only one little boy doesn't want to kill the town. He try's to stop the others.

I thought this movie was the same as I described. I am very disapointed that it is the wrong movie. I really really want the other Children of the Corn movie. There are way too many Children of the Corn for me to find the one I am looking for. If any one reads this and knows what movie I am talking about message me. I hope there is a way to message me. Well since I was so unhappy with this movie I didn't really give it a chances. I am in the middle of watching it now. And I guess this movie isn't bad.

It seems that this poor person confused Village of the Damned with Children of the Damned and then ended up buying Children of the Corn. Is it right for me–or any of us, now that you're aware–to sit on this info, or do we reach out and offer up our knowledge? W.W.H.W.W.B.T.R.D.? 

Honestly, my urge to help is tempered by the fact that this poor confused person rated a movie one star because of their own stupidity instead of its own awfulness. You're out of order, reviewer! The whole trial's out of order!

Never Forget

VHS Week Day 7: Q- The Winged Serpent (1982)

Y'all've been telling me since the beginning of time to fix my peepers on Q, but for whatever reason I never took the advice to heart. Maybe it's because I always want to like movies from writer/director Larry Cohen more than I actually do? Maybe I was never in the mood for a monster movie?

MAYBE I'M JUST A MORON BECAUSE HOLY CRAP Q IS SO GREAT WHY DID I WAIT SO LONG.

Is it overstating things to say that it's one of the best B movies I've ever seen? I don't know, and I don't really care. All I know is that I was not expecting to have so much fun watching it...yes, even though you guys have been telling me. It's a humbling lesson I've learned, I'll never doubt you again, etc etc.

A series of Aztec-flavored human sacrifices leads to the resurrection of the Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent deity. Quetzalcoatl roosts in the Chrysler Building and flies around Manhattan chomping on New Yorkers whilst the police try to stop Quetzalcoatl and the human sacrifices, the end. This is the stuff dreams are made of, my friends! Especially when it's early-80s Manhattan, full of gangsters and assorted other bada bing baba dook types, and especially especially when the cops on the case are played by David Carradine and Richard Roundtree.

And especially especially ESPECIALLY when things like this happen:

THOSE GANGLY LIMBS. Glorious, ain't it? Scenes like that are why movies were invented.

I love that everyone plays the material straight (especially Michael Moriarty as a weaselly two-bit crook), but a little twinkle in their eyes belies the fun they're having with the material. I love that every random kill scene is set up a bit like the opening scenes from Law & Order–you know, like, two construction workers will talk about sandwiches on their lunch break when OH MY GAHD THERE'S A DEAD BODY. In Q, it's more like two construction workers talk about sandwiches on their lunch break when OH MY GAHD ONE JUST GOT HIS HEAD BIT CLEAN OFF BY AN ANCIENT AZTEC GIANT FLYING LIZARD BIRD. It happens over and over again, and I could never get enough of it. Ever.

Boy oh boy, what a way to end VHS Week, I tell ya! Listen, I'd really like to thank you all for introducing me to Q. You're all invited to our nuptials, which will of course take place on the roof of a skyscraper. I can't promise that you won't die when Q flips out and tosses you off that roof, but it will fill me with so much delight that it'll be worth it!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, I mean, come on.

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

VHS Week Day 5: DAGON (2001)

As I popped in the Dagon cassette, I questioned why it doesn't seem to have the following that director Stuart Gordon's other Lovecraft adaptations do. Re-Animator...From Beyond...even Castle Freak! Beloved by the horror community, talked about and referenced and worn on t-shirts and put on the cover of horror magazines and blah blah. Is it Jeffrey Combs? Is he the common denominator Dagon lacks that leaves the film out in the cold all alone? Or maybe Barbara Crampton is the secret ingredient? Is the movie just another casualty of the 2001 limbo zone I talked about earlier this week? It just didn't make sense to me. Then I remembered that even I had yet to see Dagon and so I punched myself in the face because if you're not part of the solution you're part of the problem.

(Aside: more Jeffrey Combs and Barbara Crampton in things, please, Hollywood. I KNOW YOU'RE READING THIS.)

(Another aside: after nearly 15 years of thinking "Oh yeah, Mia Kirshner's in that" every time Dagon came up, I learned that this is not actually her. THE MORE YOU KNOW *rainbow starburst*)

About 25 minutes into the movie I had a thought: "Man, I could watch weirdo fishpeople make strange noises and flop-run around all day!" and let me tell you, it's a good thing I had that thought because that's pretty much all Dagon is.

After a storm lodges their boat on a rock, Paul (Ezra Godden) and Barbara (Raquel Meroño) seek help in an eerie, decrepit fishing village on the shores of Spain. It's not long before Barbara goes missing and Paul runs from the townsfolk, aka the weirdo fishpeople. And then Paul finds a hiding spot for a minute, and then he runs again. And then he finds a hiding spot, and then he runs again. It just keeps happening over and over! Poor Paul. I should be saying "poor me" because this pattern sounds really boring, doesn't it? But it's a testament to Gordon's skill as a director and/or my heretofore unknown love of weirdo fishpeople that I wasn't bored in the slightest.

It's also a testament to Ezra Godden charms and/or skills as an actor that I didn't hate Paul, because he's the sort of whiny dweeb you might grow tired of very quickly. Especially when he reminds you of the lead character in one of the worst video games you've ever played.

Eventually the run-hide-run pattern is tossed aside and shit gets really nuts and occasionally wicked gross in the last 15 minutes as the weirdo fishpeople set about sacrificin' in the name of their fishgod Dagon. If you wanna be spoiled and see some hot GIF and screencap action, head on over to our pal JA's My New Plaid Pants where he talks about a way you really don't want to die.

To sum it up: I was so into this movie! I loved it, even without Crampton and Combs. Even with spots of dodgy 2001 CGI! I mean, I can't imagine not digging a movie set in a creepy town with a secret, especially when that secret turns out to be weirdo fishpeople. It's like Dagon is right out of My Super Movie Wish Diary. I don't know if the horror community at large will ever embrace you fully, Dagon, but I sure will...with all the love my disgusting tentacle arms can hold.

VHS Week Day 4: LEVIATHAN (1989)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

VHS Week Day 3: NUDE FOR SATAN (1974)

No, I did not spend $19.98 on Nude for Satan (although SPOILER ALERT I got at least $19.98 worth of entertainment out of it!). What am I, a rich crazy person? I got Nude for Satan when 20/20 Video went out of business and VHS was 3 for $5 because I'm a poor crazy person.

(Aside: R.I.P., 20/20 Video, I sure bought a lot of crap from you. And while I don't really want to play The Blame Game, maybe if you didn't way overprice stuff like Nude for Satan you could have stayed open for another month or something.)

On a dark and lightning-y night , Dr. William Benson (Stelio Candelli) zips along in his light blue VW Bug on his way to answer an emergency call. The ghostly figure of a woman appears in the road, Benson swerves and crashes, and HOLY MOLY NO LIE it was just like the opening to my film Taste of Flesh, Taste of Fear, where two characters in a light blue VW Bug zip down a dark road and crash when they swerve to avoid the ghostly figure of a woman in the road and I mean "just like" as in the car crash noise was exactly the same even. I guess it must be the Wilhelm Scream of car crash noises or something, I don't know. But I do know that I felt an immediate kinship with Nude for Satan, even beyond my love at first sight with the title and the fact that I was sitting on my couch all nude for Nude for Satan.

Ha ha, that's a joke! It's too cold for nude for Nude for Satan shenanigans. But in my mind I was nude, which is really the only place I ever should be.

Another car crashes behind Benson's, but its driver Susan (Rita Calderoni) is slumped over unconscious. Benson stuffs her into his car and drives off in search of help. Will he find it at the castle down the road? WILL HE? Would your answer change if I told you that the castle belongs to SATAN?

At least, I think it belongs to him. I'm not really sure. The only thing I'm sure about is that shit gets really weird in this movie.

Okay, so shortly after arrival, Benson runs into Susan again. But she keeps calling him Peter and she's all old-timey looking (you can tell she's supposed to be old-timey because she's got a big dress on and her hair is all ten kinds of banana curled).

Susan wakes up and walks around. She finds Benson, but he keeps calling her Evelyn and he's all old-timey looking (you can tell he's supposed to be old-timey because he's got a waistcoat on and his facial hair is all ten kinds of mutton chopped).

Satan appears (you can tell he's Satan because he wears a cape and has a walking stick) and starts with the "What's real? What's not? Good night!" The castle apparently exists outside the confines of space and time, and to represent this a tiny naked Susan is superimposed over Satan's eye. Okay then.

Susan wonders why Satan said "good night" when the sun is still up, but then she's like *shrug* fuck it! and she goes to sleep, only to dream of lezzing out in a room made of white taffeta or tulle or whatever, I don't really know the difference between taffeta and tulle. The women kind of kiss and look at each other while the camera does a kaleidoscope thing and the soundtrack starts "la la LA la la"-ing. It's not a terribly sexy scene, but I guess it's a terribly sexy dream because Susan's eyes are rolling in back of her head.

la la LA la la

Susan wakes up, wanders around, falls into an abyss, and lands in a giant spider web (as you do), only to be almost attacked by a huge spider. By the fakest-looking spider I've ever seen! And I say that as someone who once used a remote-controlled spider in a film! This spider had six legs on each side and it was all some serious pipe-cleaners-and-papier-mâiché shit. In other words, YES it was so great. And to her credit, Rita Calderoni really sold that she was terrified of it, so all the hi-fives to her.

Oh yeah, and this guy shows up every once in a while and laughs:

Benson saves Susan from the web (PHEW). Satan appears again and tells them they're being too noisy and they need to go to bed, but they've decided to escape. But they can't! Instead, they meet their counterparts Peter and Evelyn, and there's some musing about duality and indulging dark natures and the such. Benson is all "No! We must escape!" but Susan is like *shrug* fuck it! and indulges, by which I mean she gets naked and makes out with Peter while some other nudies show up and do a slo-mo frolic around the room.

Then there's an ending that, believe it or not, makes less sense than anything else that came before it.

At this point, I was starting to feel that like Castle Satan, perhaps I existed outside the confines of space and time. What in the hell did I just watch? I'm not sure, but I think I loved it. Nude for Satan has no real violence or even sex in it- the "sex" is basically mouths bumping and hands placed on breasts- and it's nowhere near as sleazy as the title implies. Don't get me wrong, people do get nude for Satan, there's no false advertising here. It's more that the film is sort of languorously gonzo, where I was expecting plain ol' gonzo gonzo.

But who cares? There are worse things in life than watching Rita Calderoni run around naked in a cobwebby, gothic-lite castle while 70s bongo music plays. A worse thing would be not doing that. *shrug* fuck it!

VHS Week Day 2: VALENTINE (2001)

Ah, the early months of 2001. It's not so long ago, really, yet it was such a simpler time. Women's eyebrows ran amok in untweezed glory, movies were released on VHS and the unproven "DVD" format, AOL advertised their amazing new service on those DVDs and VHesses, and Denise Richards was in stuff. It all seems so quaint now!

Horror was in a weird transitional phase at the time. Half a decade into the Scream cycle, audiences were fed the eff up with glossy, tepid genre flicks filled with glossy, tepid actors. The resurgence of on-screen gore ushered in by "torture porn" was still a few years away. It's no surprise, then, that 2001's offerings fall somewhere in between the two phases. There's no shortage of garbage sequels, sure, but there's also some smart indie fare. And there's Arachnid, which is undoubtedly in that timeless "fuck yeah, this is great garbage!" category. In the midst of all this plops Valentine, totally unsure of how to present itself, like a 7th grade girl who wears a blouse that makes her feel sort of human and grown-up except that it's too tight in places and she can't help but focus on that and her whole day is ruined. To wit: Valentine's poster/box art cries "Look at all these young pretty people, arranged in a row! I am just like those 1998 movies you like!" The movie itself, however, cries "Look at my story structure and the killer's mask and all the slasher tropes everywhere! I am just like all those 1981 movies you like!"

To which I say, "1981? Hmm. 1983, maybe. I mean, you're okay, Valentine, but let's not get crazy here."

It's true, though, Valentine is simply a good ol' fashioned slasher movie. You know how it goes: humiliation suffered at the hands of classmates leads to a young nerd disappearing for years as he spends time in mental hospitals and the like...a decade or so later, a masked killer shows up and kills off those responsible for said humiliation, did the young nerd really come back, blah blah blah, all aboard the Terror Train. Because it was released in 2001 and not 1983, however, the violence is obviously snippy-snipped by censors and the cast is full of Hollywood-fresh lily-white faces.

These aren't huge negatives, mind. The acting was perfectly...you know, horror movie adequate, and the characters were blandly likable (or likably bland, perhaps). Valentine is closer to Carpenter's Halloween than Zombie's Halloween in terms of tempo and execution, so the mitigated violence isn't necessarily a strike against it. You won't find anything close to artistry, of course, but you get the sense that director Jamie Blanks admires Carpenter's "less is more" approach to scares.

That said, "scary" is about the last word I'd use to describe Valentine. Yeah, the mask is a little creepy. Sure, it adheres to the stalker cycle formula used so successfully to terrify in the past...but where's the tension? Where is it, Valentine? It's just not there, and everything is a bit ho-hum and workaday. Scream, slash, kill, yawn, repeat. And yet...

Maybe I'm feeling generous, but I might go so far as to call Valentine a high-water mark of the post-Scream horror era. What! I know, I'm as surprised as you. But man, scrub off those slick production values and it'd likely land somewhere on some sort of "notable slasher movies" list on some shitty horror blog.

Ahem.

VHS Week Day 1: SHADOW DANCING (1988)

If there's one thing my mother has told me time and time again throughout my long life, it's "Stacie, don't be so damn easy." Maybe someday I'll take this advice to heart, but how many times must I be burned before that happens? How many times will I take home a movie like Shadow Dancing, thinking we will have the greatest night ever...only to find myself waking the next day saddled with bitter memories and a videocassette taking up space on my shelf? How many times?

Heavy sigh. I suppose I should simply accept that waking up with herpes a bad movie is what you get sometimes when you live life on the edge. But then...would it hurt for my tastes to be a bit more discriminating? Heavier sigh. I just don't know. I mean, you want to know why I brought Shadow Dancing home? Here's why:

1) I saw the word "dancing" in the title and suddenly I was intoxicated by memories of Slash Dance and I thought, "I loved Slash Dance, I'll love this, too!"

2) I saw this picture on the back of the box:

Someone getting zapped by blue movie lightning! I'm a total sucker for it.

That's it! That's it. That's all it took for me to fork over $0.30 and get all hepped up for this movie.

YES ONLY THIRTY CENTS. Why am I making a big deal out of this when the movie cost less than one-third of a dollar, you're wondering. Hmm, now that I mention it, I'm kind of wondering, too. I guess maybe even a mere thirty cents is too much for 100 minutes of crapola, and it makes me think "Well why did you assume it would be good in the first place?" and then I reminisce on my reasoning and then I wonder if I was dropped on my head a few times as a child.

But then I think, what is life without risking thirty cents?

Ugh, do you see how I go back and forth? Do you see how I am conflicted? DO YOU SEE WHAT SHADOW DANCING HAS DONE TO ME?

Here's the trailer, let it do a little bit of that to you:


Geezalou, even the trailer feels long.

So there was a dancer named Lili La Nuit (authentic French name) and...I don't know. Guys fell in love with her and then she was murdered on stage, or maybe it was an accident. And now 40 years later the theater opens again and a dancer finds Lili's shawl and puts it on and is maybe possessed? Or Lili is a ghost?

Trust me, that makes it sound way better than it was. Lili doesn't do anything except laugh and dance. And dance. And fucking dance and I know that the word "dancing" is right there in the title, but there's so much dancing. And it's all to music that's truly awful. Like, so awful that when my neighbor came home during a particularly interminable dance number, I thought "Oh dear, I hope they can't hear this music and they think I'm just, like, listening to it." I'm not one to care about such things, but it was actually embarrassing.

I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what the hell was going on in Shadow Dancing- not because a true mystery was afoot or anything, but because the film's structure was so damn janky. The "plot", as it were, was essentially pooped out in a couple of piles of exposition in the last seven minutes. Until then, it was unclear why things were happening or even what was happening. I wish Shadow Dancing ended up being the movie I thought it was going to be, because after one scene I thought maybe there was a telekinetic baby. After another scene, I thought there was a telekinetic parrot! But nope. Nothing so exciting, just dancing and laughing. No one even dies in this! (SPOILER.)

So, yes. I wasted $0.30 and 100 minutes of my life on this movie. I'd hoped it would be, like, the love child of Slash Dance and Ninja III: The Domination, which, let's face it, would probably be the best movie ever made. But why did I think that? Because of the title and that picture on the back. Stupid brain.

Oh well. I must admit, a few good things came out of Shadow Dancing, so there's a bright side to all of this.

1) It made me finally admit that I just don't like watching people dance. In fact, I really kind of hate it! I admire the skill and all that (jazz), but as an art form, dance does not appeal to me at all. If this makes me sound like some sort of rube, so be it! At least I'm living an honest life now.

2) There's a scene where Christopher Plummer says, "Oh damn, my corn niblets are burning!" Yes this is a high point of the movie.

3) Thinking about that Slash Dance/Ninja III love child means I'm thinking about Ninja III, which sure I do that a lot anyway, but more is always better. And since I'm living an honest life now, I'll admit that if Lucinda Dickey starred in Shadow Dancing, this review would probably say "Can you believe this movie was only thirty cents!"

Stupid brain.

i wish

Wherein I Say Things

Friends, Romans, non-Romans, lend me your hearing parts so I can blast some words from my mouthhole into your earholes! Even though given that this is a blog and not an assembly, it's more like I'm blasting words from my fingers (fingerblasting, yes, I said it) to your eyeballs but you know what I mean! But for real, lemme tell ya. I have been in a total funk for, like, too long, too many months, like more than a year. A year! And sadly, I don't mean "funk" like I have traveled back in time and now I am a member of Parliament. On the upside, I don't mean "funk" like body odor, either! (At least I don't think so, no one has dropped any hints like handing me some Secret or something, nor has anyone come right out and said "YOU STINK, TAKE A BATH." But I worry, I really do.) No, I mean "funk" like "the sads."

I'm not going to go into all the whys and whyfors of it, nor is this some bid for some "Please, DO cry for me, Argentina!" action. I'm only bringing it up because this Funk of At Least 40,000 Years has, amongst other things, meant that my work has majorly suffered across the board. And that work includes Final Girl! It's hard to create when you find that you no longer care. But I am trying to care, because I want to care, because I want to create.

So, I'm making changes to help myself along, which will in turn help the process along. One of those changes came earlier this week, when I fingerblasted (aw yeah) the Final Girl Facebook page right out of existence. Those of you who were a part of it may have known this already. I had some fun there for sure, but I've come to realize that overall, it contributed to my funk. Instead of writing something on Final Girl, like an actual review, I would simply take to Facebook and post, like, "This movie was pretty good" and that would be that. Some folks might comment. The end. What a cop out on my part! And so stuff continued to spiral into that funky ouroboros my life has been of late: I feel bad because I'm not creating, but then I'm not creating because I feel bad. It is the worst cycle, a real shit-fest penny-farthing of existence. Again, this is where fingerblasting (I'm just going to say it as much as possible apparently) Facebook comes in. I'm breaking out of that "but if it's not on Facebook no one will know" box I'd put myself in, with a "well then who fucking cares, I'm just going to do this because I want to, and if no one knows then tough shit for them." I hope it helps. I think it will.

To help kick off this "fuck off, funk" thing I'm trying, I say let's have an event. Starting Monday, let's have...

VHS Weeks are always a lot of fun. This one should be no different, and it's not going to be one of those lame-ass five day "week"s, either. We're talking seven days of hot, hot videotape action! Here's the lineup- now don't go getting so excited that you don't sleep all weekend in anticipation!

MONDAY: Shadow Dancing (1988) - I don't know that this one will be "horror" per se, but I can't wait
TUESDAY: Valentine (2001) - I know I've seen this, but I don't remember a thing about it
WEDNESDAY: Nude for Satan (1974) - FINALLY
THURSDAY: Leviathan (1989) - I just love the fact that "underwater horror" was a thing for a while
FRIDAY: Dagon (2001) - can't believe I haven't seen this one yet
SATURDAY: Brotherhood of the Wolf (2001) - ditto
SUNDAY: Q- The Winged Serpent (1982) - FUCKING DITTO

That's a sweet-looking bunch of movies, no? YES. A little something for everyone, or at least for all the awesome people.

Okay then. I hope to see you around these parts more often! As always, thanks for reading, you're the knees.

THE DARK SECRET OF HARVEST HOME (1978)

Even though I am an elderly person, there are plenty of ways I utilize the technologies of the young. For example, I definitely know how to boot up a JPG. For another example, I only order pizzas via the Information Superhighway. However, sometimes my brain completely forgoes new technology in favor of the old. For example, I always have a spiral notebook and a pen at arm's reach. For another example, when I want to watch something like the 1978 made-for-TV mini-series The Dark Secret of Harvest Home, I don't first try YouTube, where the entire 4-hour affair is readily available. Instead, I spend a lot of time tracking down a bootleg, paying for a bootleg, waiting for the bootleg to arrive, and then digging in. (And I would have forgone the bootleg if the long out-of-print VHS edition wasn't edited to half the original length.)

For every second of "Aw man, YouTube would have been way easier and free-i-er," I have several minutes of sweet satisfaction because when you stream a movie, you don't get the crappy bootleg box art to treasure! Behold:

"Betty" Davis! "Sacrifaces"! It's the small things that please me so.

Also, "Sacrifaces" sounds like a new Satanic show by Mummenschanz. More Satanic, anyway.

Typos aside, that sentence...sort of sums up The Dark Secret of Harvest Home, in the same way that "A young woman enrolls in a ballet academy and is caught up in witchcraft and sacrifaces" might describe Suspiria. Like, it works but there's more to it than that.

Wait, is there more to Suspiria than that? Never mind, I'm getting off track here. And YES I'm going to use "sacrifaces" all the time now so get used to it.

I've said it before and I'll say it again and again until we're all tired of hearing it: I love a movie about a town with a secret. From Dead and Buried to The Wicker Man to Bay Cove to everything in between, give me some fish-out-of-water types trying to figure out what the heck is going on in an idyllic country town and I'm all over it. Toss in some witch robes, some sacrifaces, and some old people and I'm all over it AND all up in it. Let me tell you, friends, The Dark Secret of Harvest Home does not disappoint!

Oh sure, the set-up is as old as them thar hills, but who cares? The Constantine family is fed up with life in the big city and all the big city problems they face. Dad Nick (David "Original Gary Ewing" Ackroyd) yearns to leave the hollow world of Madison Avenue behind and make some real art. Mom Beth (Joanna "There's A Fire-Farting Cockroach in My Hair" Miles) spends her days reclining on a shrink's couch in a bid to overcome her neuroses. 15-year-old daughter Kate (Rosanna "Doesn't Need a Nickname for You to Know Who She Is" Arquette) totally has asthma and her life sucks.

On a little getaway trip to Connecticut, they cross a whimsical/ominous wooden bridge and find themselves in Cornwall Coombe, a small farming community that's super friendly and everyone seems happy and there's an amazing house for sale for wicked cheap and isn't that great let's all move to Cornwall Coombe! So they do, and everything is simply wonderful and for sure nothing will ever go wrong. Widow Fortune (Bette "Betty" Davis) has a tight (if benevolent) grip on the town. Folks are reluctant to talk about the past, and no one ever ever goes "against the ways" if they know what's good for 'em. Why, it's almost as if the town has a dark secret!

Yes! Check out Rosanna Arquette and Widow Fortune. "Widow" is pronounced "widda", by the way. And everyone says "Ayuh" a lot like this is a goddamn Stephen King movie even though they're in western Connecticut. On the one hand, this made my eye twitch, but on the other hand it just made me want to hug New England because I love New England and even though I grew up in eastern Connecticut there was definitely that feeling of "thar werest wytches here" to it at times, like when you go to Devil's Hopyard State Park, I mean who names a park "Devil's Hopyard" come on now

Kate and Beth adjust quickly to life in The Coombe. Widda Fortune shushes away all of Kate's asthma attacks. Beth likes being part of a community and begins busting out the local corn-speak. Nick, however, digs deeper into the town history for a book he's writing and finds that sometimes people go missing and sometimes you see a skeleton somewhere but then when you go to show it to the constable the skeleton is gone and sometimes you find the local peddler in a cabin in the woods and someone has cut his tongue out and no one admits that anything weird is going on or has gone on, ever.

Oh yeah, and a little babby Tracey Gold is a really fucking weird kid who screams sometimes and she picks the new Harvest Lord by smearing sheep's blood on a contender's cheeks. Just another day in The Coombe!

TRACEY GOLD YOU GUYS

So you know how it goes, right? A big Widda Fortune-sized wedge is driven further and further between Beth and Nick as the former adapts to "the ways" and the latter does not. As the year goes on and the mysterious "Harvest Home" ceremony approaches, we begin to wonder: is this a Babiez4Satan thing, or Babiez4Corn thing? Because somehow, it's always about women making babiez for some reason, ain't it?

It is! But I'm not going to tell you everything because this shit was four hours long and because if you like classic they don't make 'em like that anymore made-for-TV horror movies (aka "being a person with awesome taste"), then you should just watch it. I mean, it's right there on YouTube. Bette fucking Davis! A reasonably restrained Bette fucking Davis, even, who doesn't simply bleat-shriek all her lines like she did throughout much of the 1960s.

After you're done watching The Dark Secret of Harvest Home, you can help me settle the argument I've been having with myself since I saw it: is this feminist, or anti-feminist? There's certainly a slight whiff of Neil LaBute's Wicker Man in here as a matriarchal society proves ball-crushingly bad for the menfolk. Then again, there's also a slight whiff of The Stepford Wives in here as Nick frequently asks Beth if she wants to give up her autonomy and life goals to join in "the old ways." I need the Widda Fortune to shush away my social justice anxiety attack!

This is the best thing.

YouTube user gigerbrick has done gone and made a trailer for the trashtastic 1977 film The Car (honk, honkhonkhoonnnnnnnk) using in-game PS4 footage from Grand Theft Auto 5. I bow before the perfection!