Traumafession:: Lily D on Pencil Face & Other YouTube Oddities
Hello to Kindertrauma! I’ve recently discovered this site and absolutely am in love with the charming early web aesthetic! I’ve browsed through stuff on the site and I really felt like adding my own thing. Forgive me if this is worded very awkwardly, I’ve never done anything like this before.
First thing’s first, I am part of Gen Z, specifically of the group that (unfortunately) grew up on the Internet. YouTube was basically the main course of entertainment, mainly since I wasn’t allowed on sites that weren’t approved, not that I listened. Having unrestricted access led me to being a daily visitor to the weird side of YouTube. Obviously, this did not go well.
One of the more legendary videos of weird YouTube was none other than SCADshorts’s “Pencil Face”, a short film about a girl who discovers a rather smug life-sized pencil. The face on the pencil was already scary enough for little me, but my morbid curiosity just wanted me to keep watching. This pencil was able to make the girl make her drawings come to life, such as a cake and a kite.
That is until she thinks of a lollipop and tried to draw it with the pencil, only for a black hole to appear and having her get sucked in. I was incredibly sensitive as a child (and still am) so seeing that just really upset me. I never enjoy the idea of a child or an animal getting hurt.
Next YouTube video is a more relatively obscure one that I thought was lost media. The video is called “Head Flushed Down Toilet” uploaded by Joel Wise. I don’t think I really need to explain why it scared the hell out of me. That distorted face and the way the woman just mercilessly flushes it down the toilet… certainly an early YouTube video! The uploader did not deserve that much hate over a silly little video, though.
Speaking of videos considered fake, the sculptures of artist Patricia Piccininj were pretty much everywhere on videos talking about human-animal hybrids and similar, while some were in it just for the funny. Shortavi’s “WORLDS MOST UGLIEST WOMEN.” video contained one of the creatures from Piccinini’s Leather Landscape piece. Safe to say, it haunted me for days, if not months, and seeing it move just only made matters worse. I’m an art major and I honestly find it funny how some of my traumas were linked with art in some way.
Being that this is already long enough, the last video I’ll be mentioning is the one and only “I Feel Fantastic”, originally uploaded to YouTube by Creepyblog in 2009. There’s a full source of the video the clip came from that was uploaded by Yitz a couple of years ago as well.
I was a young and impressionable child that got spooked by anything out of the ordinary, and the sight of Tara the Android really struck a nerve in me. The rumors surrounding the video did not help, either, since it seemed to be common for early YouTube culture to immediately assume something unusual had to be related to serial killers. Saved Tara for last because she’s become such an icon of Gen Z’s Internet trauma. She forever lives on in our hearts… even if she terrified us originally.
That’s all I have. Wanted to keep it as short as possible. I’m probably an odd one out since i haven’t really seen anybody else write about stuff on the Internet that scared them. Strange how much time changes, huh? Thank you once again. With love, Lily
Terrifier 3
I’d like to be able to tell you that TERRIFIER 3 is not quite my cup of tea but then I went and slurped that putrid cup of tea down and thoroughly enjoyed it so I can’t. I respected the first two gore-happy TERRIFIER flicks that featured Art the clown (portrayed by David Howard Thornton whose hell-mime performance is beyond reproach) as decent enough edgy diversions (so too writer/director Damien Leone’s anthology debut ALL HOLLOWS EVE (2013) in which Art is portrayed by Mike Giannelli) but this new, more potent outing gave me something that I won’t forget too soon. Part of the reason it clobbered me so is because it’s mostly set on Christmas (I’m an Xmas horror fanatic) but the main weight of its body slam on me was due to the fact that I saw it in a packed theater and the audience’s excited, nearly giddy trepidation was palpable. Well, it turned out Leone’s sicko manifesto made me feel unsafe and challenged for its entire runtime which brought me fondly back to my earliest days of watching forbidden horror on VHS and sneaking into theaters as a kid to behold repulsions I wasn’t sure I could endure. BTW, I was kinda mortified (though not too surprised) that a couple brought their children with them to this unrated yuletide bloodbath. The oldest child couldn’t have been more than ten! I thought I was surely privy to a ground zero kindertrauma event and that the kids would drop like flies fleeing to the nearest exit (I at that age surely would have, I barely made it through JAWS) but when this cinematic onslaught of entrails completed, the entire family (and their last name wasn’t ADAMS) stood up and clapped while laughing maniacally. It was both a relief and more than a little bit disturbing.
If TERRIFIER 3 had only physical violence to offer I probably wouldn’t have been that effected (this was illustrated to me by the fact that I was more distraught about a rat being injured than any human (you know how I roll)). Beyond the wince inducing physical mayhem, Leone conjures an astonishing thick brew of truly malevolent deranged delirium (and it’s all deliciously dunked in clashing grainy and sparkling hues reminiscent of CHRISTMAS EVIL (’80) and SILENT NIGHT DEADLY NIGHT (’84)). I was honestly more taken aback and unnerved on a bad mojo level by Art’s corpse-y female cohort’s lipless grimace and the absolutely gruesome dilapidated home the rotting duo hibernate in than almost anything else. A tone is set early on (strangely enough by Art’s squirming about on its on accord, decapitated head) that exactly zero rules apply and the game board could be mercilessly knocked off the table and stomped on (like a poor rat) at any time. It really feels like a no holds barred, punk as hell, assault on normalcy in general that is bizarrely equally as liberating as it is psychologically assaulting (it’s probably for the best that poor misguided (but well-meaning) Siskel and Ebert did not live to see this day but it’s fun to imagine their jaws dropping through the cloud floor of heaven anyway). Will I ever watch this demented chaos grenade again? At first I thought definitely not, but then I remembered those seedy, unflinching mad dog dives into depravity from my youth (looking mostly at you MANIAC (’80), NIGHTMARE (’81) (which this film especially mirrors in its mad eeriness) and PIECES (’82)) that over the years morphed into adorable naughty puppies in my mind and then I wasn't so sure (who am I kidding? I’ll probably watch it every Christmas but sadly alone because there’s no way Aunt John could ever withstand it; dude tapped out of TURISTAS ('06)). I’m not saying this is the finest of film-making (Even at two hours, it still cheats a shortcut to its climax) but its pure audacity, refreshing transgressive nature and clear love of its intended audience shine brightly. One thing is for sure, like it or not, Art the clown is here to stay. Hey, every generation deserves its own horror icons and if earlier generations find them appalling, amoral or in just plain bad taste, well, that’s all the better!
Apartment 7A, Salem's Lot & It's What's Inside
Natalie Erika James (who delivered 2020’s impressively depressing RELIC)’s recent ROSEMARY’S BABY prequel APARTMENT 7A is commendably detailed and admirably respectful of its source material yet it lacks any punchy impact and for every fine, nuanced acting performance there’s a regrettably awkward dance number. As a huge fan of Ira Levin’s novel and Roman Polanski’s film adaptation, I have to admit it kept me reasonably entertained by stuffing me to the gills with fan pandering Easter eggs throughout but unfortunately its inability to bring anything new to the table ultimately makes it hit more like an aperitif than a satisfying meal. An unrecognizable Julia Garner (WE ARE WHAT WE ARE, THE LAST EXORCISM PART II) is Terry Gionoffrio a would be Broadway star who falls victim to the same Satanic cult that would soon torment Rosemary Woodhouse in the classic tale (this minor character appears briefly in both the OG book and film, she’s the gal who Rosemary meets in the laundry room who eventually jumps to her death out of a window of the Bramford building (portrayed by the legendary Dakota) and inadvertently introduces Rosemary to the adorable yet diabolical Castevets. Frankly, the character doesn’t quite sync up with her previous incarnation but I’m willing to blame her tannis root necklace for any inconsistencies).
Something tells me I might be a little more generous with this harmless companion piece (It’s certainly less egregious than say, the 1976 made for TV sequel LOOK WHAT’S HAPPENED TO ROSEMARY’S BABY, Ira Levin’s own wanting literary follow-up SON OF ROSEMARY and the convoluted rehash miniseries from 2014 starring Zoe Saldana) if only earlier this year we hadn’t been gifted the remarkable on every level prequel THE FIRST OMEN. As it stands, I’m going to give this one a pass for housing the great Dianne Wiest’s interpretation of Minnie Castevets as it’s worth the price of admission alone (Kevn McNally as Roman is no slouch either). I wish this seemingly sincere attempt had the capacity/audacity to knock it out of the park, it almost seemed like it might for a while, but I left it feeling like the highest point of excitement it delivered for yours truly Involved the late in the game appearance of the same painting of a burning church that ominously hung in the Castevet’s apartment in the original. Sure it had me excitedly pointing at the TV but I’m thinking in retrospect that I deserved richer revelations.
As much as I worship Tobe Hooper’s vividly traumatizing 1979 miniseries based on Stephen KIng’s Classic (and my personal favorite) novel SALEM’S LOT (I wouldn’t kick the 2004 re-do starring Rob Lowe out of bed for eating crackers either), I have no qualms about a fresh take on the endlessly viable material. The fact that it was announced that a new vision would be helmed by Gary Dauberman whose horror credits include writing the screenplay for 2017’s successful adaption of King’s IT and directing the spooky romp ANNABELLE COMES HOME had me about as optimistic as I could get about such a thing. Ultimately, on many fronts, Dauberman delivered; the casting is top notch, the seventies setting is splendid, the counterintuitive crispy brightness adds a level of freshness, it successfully develops its own visual style (seemingly influenced by Mike Flanagan’s oeuvre and Carpenter’s THE FOG), it offers a brand new, unpredictable climax (involving a Drive-in theater no less) and there is a clear overall understanding of which set pieces are most potent. Sadly, its artistry is frequently betrayed by its format as wild, careless pruning inflicts this by rights, epic tale. It’s almost like watching a Viewmaster version of the film as grand, impressive scenes click by with an absence of connective tissue and characters are rushed along with the patience of attention deficit speed dating.
I can understand the greedy urge to lessen the runtime to get more showings out of a theatrical release but once this flick was bound for cable someone really should have cared enough to loosen its corset (especially considering its been said that the main reason it premiered on cable rather than in theaters was due to a desperate need for content; I’m no math wiz but a longer runtime would have meant even MORE content). Now I’m hearing that an entire opening sequence was filmed involving hero Ben Mears (Lewis Pullman, who like the rest of the cast is quite good) as a child being traumatized in the Marsten House (which looks incredible here constantly looming over the entire town) and my mind reels at just how much that springboard scene would have added to the film in regards to Mears’ motivation and the town’s history in general. I truly hope at some point we get to see exactly what the director fully intended (apparently, more than an entire hour was excised) because what’s present intrigues and I hate to see such an earnest offering undeservedly hobbled (a MISERY reference seemed appropriate). That said, I’d say this condensed version is still worth a watch due to its unique style and its clawed handful of effective scares but it’s quite clear it could have had much more bite if it was allotted the properly sized real estate its grand source material unquestionably deserves.
Hey, maybe I can curb my expectations by watching something original rather than relying on prequels, sequels and remakes! IT’S WHAT’S INSIDE sorta fits the bill although I suppose it could be argued that nothing new is under the sun and this body-switching bonanza could just as easily be titled FREAKY FRIDAY PART 12 (sorry, I refuse to do an ELECTRIC BOOGALOO joke). A bunch of attractive yet charm deficient post college couples gather at another isolated estate to flirt, quarrel and dredge up past grudges (are we sure this is original?) before a wedding. Everything goes horribly awry when a harmless game of body switching made possible by a smuggled-in, state of the art device ( just go with it) muddies waters and puts your truly's ability to remember character’s names to the ultimate test (wish I brought a pad and paper!). Just when you think things could not get worse, two hapless attendees fall to their deaths resulting in a impromptu contentious game of “musical chairs” except with bodies that is made even more stressful by the threat of cops on their way to surely muck up things further (as they do). Wait a minute, this movie is actually really great once you get used to it! I admit I was about to turn it off when I realized it would require me using dusty parts of my brain but after maneuvering past a few fuzzy curves, and getting a handle on the kindly markers set in place (thankfully the young folk often wear name tag Polaroids of their true selves or are filmed in red when their real identities are in play) I was good to go. I’m happy to say this movie really can lay claim to being its own wild beast, sports many a clever camera trick and is pretty damn innovative all around. I’m even going to go so far as to say it’s genuinely funny and clever as hell! I’m glad I didn’t jump ship after all, and now I’ve even got that strange itch to watch it again! Huh, whatdoyaknow, I’m now highly interested in whatever writer/directer Greg Jardin does next! Bravo, sir! You won this old, long-COVID suffering, curmudgeon over!
I Saw The TV Glow & Speak No Evil
A24’s trailer for Jane (WE’RE ALL GOING TO THE WORLD’S FAIR) Schoenbrun’s I SAW THE TV GLOW had me all prepared for an IT FOLLOWS-esque suburban curse flick crammed into a Candle Cove repressed memory nineties nostalgia taco shell. While there certainly are sharp slivers of horror spiking this poetic, fluorescent fish aquarium-toned ode to outsiders and their dependence on media for a social life, it’s more of a coming of age character study than anything else (albeit a mighty surreal one). Owen (Justin Smith who I recognized from the video game THE QUARRY) is a cautious wraith-like teenager who can’t seem to materialize enough to cast a shadow at home or at school. He eventually meets a slightly older gal named Maddy (Bridgette Lundy Payne) who indoctrinates him into the comfy world of obsessive serial television fandom and the buffering delights of wrapping yourself in the toasty warm blanket of dissociation. Maddy’s go-to trap door escape from reality is “The Pink Opaque” a young adult dark fantasy series complete with monster of the week episodes and a “Big Bad” named Mr. Melancholy (who looks like a still from 1902’s A TRIP TO THE MOON sans the rocket in the eye). Maddy describes the program as “More real than real life” and I’m in no position to judge her as in the nineties I was known to claim BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER was more important to me than my actual life (I no longer think that but must admit I was much happier when I did).
Over the preceding years, both Owen and Maddie are haunted by their connection to the show and struggle to understand the ever fuzzy (and possibly adjustable) line between fantasy and reality. Although much of the journey depicted is frustratingly vague, willfully muddled and downright mumbly at times, it’s hard not to feel sympathy for these characters who find it easier to relate to fictional beings on a television screen than the abrasive clods that surround them in life (Fred Durst is Owen’s step dad – you know that can’t be easy). Sure, I’m still slightly disappointed I didn’t get my (wrongfully assumed) scarefest on but I’m glad I caught this earnest tribute to square pegs (another great TV show) and the art that nurtures them when no-one else will. One scene that I found particularly poignant has Owen catching up with his beloved program decades later only to discover that age has not been kind and what once seemed profound now seems prosaic and what was once scary is now laughably lame. We’ve all been there (but let it be known that BUFFY still rules).
James (of the soul devouring EDEN LAKE) Watkin’s SPEAK NO EVIL is a superior thriller (and remake of a 2022 Danish film) that boasts stellar performances and hearkens back to the “Blank From Hell” suspense films that elbowed horror flicks to the side during the late eighties/early nineties (I’m thinking their heyday blossoms with FATAL ATTRACTION and wilts with THE TEMP). In this case, James McAvoy (who has proven his psycho chomps and then some in SPLIT & GLASS and should really play Jack Torrance some day) is Paddy, a host from hell who along with his hippy-ish spouse Ciara (STOPMOTION’s Aisling Franciosi) and socially stunted (with good reason) son Ant (Dan Hough) welcome the far too trusting Dalton family (BLACK MIRROR: San Junipero’s Mackenzie Davis as borderline unfaithful wife Louise, Scoot McNair (MONSTERS) as ineffectual husband Ben and Alix West Lefler as neurotic preteen Agnes) to spend the weekend in their gorgeous yet sorta slummy farmhouse in the Italian countryside (BTW, I thankfully never have to worry about the incidents depicted here befalling myself as the only thing I hate more than traveling is staying in someone else’s home overnight and I therefore have made a pact with myself never to do either again if at all possible).
The getaway gets off to an uncomfortable start as Paddy who knows very well that Louise is a vegetarian, tries to force feed her a duck he roasted after telling tales of the fowl's remarkable spirit. From there things get worse and worse as personality clashes pile up, an unexplained surplus of fancy watches emerges and someone (not me this time) outs themselves as a fan of the Bangles and particularly their #1 charting power ballad "Eternal Flame". The tense situation ultimately comes to a head when the Daltons learn the tastes of their eccentric hosts lean less toward SCHITT’S CREEK and more toward WOLF CREEK (if ya catch my drift). This is a real nail biter with a satisfying conclusion and I enjoyed how there’s never a moment when you think the ultimate showdown will come between the two patriarchs as clearly the formidable Louise is the Dalton’s best chance of survival against the runaway rage train that is Paddy. Unfortunately SPEAK NO EVIL, through no fault of its own, happened to be the first film I watched after the mind-blowing cinematic hand grenade that is THE SUBSTANCE and therefore sometimes felt about as quaint as a Holly Hobbie Chloroforms set in comparison. Nevertheless, this chunk o’ menace still operates like a well tuned STRAW DOGS-esque fret machine and its main pillar performances (McAvoy & Davis, natch) are super compelling, top notch and something to shout about.
Name That Trauma:: Kathryngrace on an Oversized Eyewitness Ghost Book
Hi, I know the “Name That Trauma” is usually about movies or TV, but there’s a book about ghosts I read as a kid that I’ve been trying to find for years and I thought someone might recognize what book I’m talking about. It was a book about “real" ghosts. It was blue and oversized and had a picture of a ghostly woman riding a carriage on the cover. She may have been holding her decapitated head or I may just be imagining that. It was titled something generic like “Ghosts” or “Hauntings” which has made it even harder to find. The format was kind of similar to those DK Eyewitness books for kids or the Time Life books on the supernatural. It was written before the mid ‘90s, because that’s when I discovered it at the library. Fingers crossed someone recognizes this!
The Substance (Plus Special Funhouse)
I just had my underused brain yanked out of my head like a peach pit, dribbled around the room like a basketball and handed back to me like a letter to to Bigfoot without a stamp by THE SUBSTANCE. Oh, how ill prepared I was. Poor me wandered innocently into the movie theater (finally utilizing my free pass) expecting a stylish dark psychological thriller that was vaguely horror adjacent like say, BLACK SWAN but Coralie (THE REVENGE, 2018) Fargeat’s gloriously surreal takedown of engorged ego, body dysmorphia, misogyny, ageism, corporate exploitation and the shallowness of society in general, is a pure capital H, mega-dose of Horror (particularly of the body variety) and the florescent light it’s hiding under its bonkers bushel is that it’s the most eye-poppingly awesome and bizarre special make-up effects extravaganza the cinema has seen since Rob Bottin abandoned horror fans like a deadbeat dad (Seriously, bring goggles with windshield wipers on them in preparation for the film’s climax).
This many layered psyche crusher burrows bone deep and features a truly extraordinary (and Oscar worthy) performance by a fearless Demi Moore (PARASITE, THE SEVENTH SIGN, model for the I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE poster) as a theoretically past her prime celebrity who is prepared to demolish everything (even herself) to be adored with the same ferocity as she was in her youth. Unfortunately, she makes a Faustian bargain with a faceless pharmaceutical company (and apparently David Cronenberg) and ends up with a vampire level addiction doing the REQUIEM FOR A DREAM downward spiral shuffle which never ends well, and always leaves yours truly in an emotional fetal position.
As always, the less you know the better so I’ll say no more, just drop everything that you’re doing and run out and make sure you see what is the greatest and goopiest horror spectacle to come howling down the pike spraying ooze in decades. THE SUBSTANCE is a highly original affair like nothing you’ve seen before but that doesn’t stop it from stoking and rekindling memories of many other fine slices of nightmare cinema. Therefore, since we had no Funhouse this week, here are 15 images for you to identify from 15 movies this bravo-worthy instant classic might pal around with:
Recently Viewed (By Unk)
In PHANTOM OF DEATH (1988), Michael York (THE ISLAND OF DR MOREAU ’77) portrays Robert Dominic, a concert pianist who suffers from a rare disease that speeds up his aging process and he’s so darn salty about it (who wouldn’t be?) that he goes on a cathartic murder rampage to let off some steam. Fortunately for viewers, he eventually unwisely sets his sights on the daughter of a police inspector played by the one and only Donald Pleasence who goes into full throttle, late phase Dr. Loomis mode which results in much yelling and delicious scene chewing in the beautiful streets of Italy. Although a little slow and meandering at times, this is a must see for Giallo fans directed by the legendary Ruggero Deodato (Cannibal Holocaust) that features a very welcome cameo by my personal hero (he really did me a solid once and I’m forever indebted) the late, great Giovanni Lombardo Radice ( THE GATES OF HELL, HOUSE ON THE EDGE OF THE PARK, STAGE FRIGHT, CANNIBAL FEROX and plenty more) and a boasts yet another lovely score from the master himself Pino Donaggio (DON’T LOOK NOW, CARRIE, PIRANHA, THE HOWLING, TOURIST TRAP and countless other classics). I have no idea how I’ve lived so long without being aware of this weird gem (I’m still stunned by a scene involving a kid on a park swing with an elderly man’s face) and oddly must thank a local thrift store that hung up its video release movie poster for alerting me of its existence.
To tell you the truth, the sole reason BELIEVE (2000) fell into my orbit is because I’m down for collecting any VHS tape that happens to have a lenticular cover. As it turns out, I rather enjoyed this corny yet sweet nearly G-rated ghost flick mostly due to its winning cast. Benjamin Styles (Ricky Mabe) is sent to live with his uptight grandfather in a small town when his boarding school tires of his constant pranking which typically involves him convincing unsuspecting kids of ghostly happenings with ghoulish props and makeshift special effects. Soon it is he though who is witnessing supernatural phenomenon in the form of a ghostly apparition in a red dress. He elicits a local outcast/love interest (a young Elisha Cuthbert of HOUSE OF WAX (2005) who is absolutely adorable) to be the Nancy Drew to his Hardy boy and solve the mystery of who the phantom may be and why the two kids’ grandfathers (DEAD OF WINTER (’87)’s Jan Rubes and always great Ben Gazzara) have been feuding for years. Well shot and low key spooky, this Canadian production (so Canadian that even BLACK CHRISTMAS legend Andrea Martin shows up to portray a paranormal specialist) is sort of a lighter version of Halloween favorite THE LADY IN WHITE (’88) and is a great choice if you’re in the mood for the softer side of horror.
Yet another teen slasher following faithfully in the meta-horror footsteps of SCREAM (with a heavy dollop of WISHMASTER thrown in) SPLICED (2002) tells the story of angsty young horror fan Mary (Liane Balaban of 2012’s MANIAC) who goes to see a fright flick entitled THE WISHER and lives to regret it and then some. Not even her pill pushing high school guidance councilor/therapist Campbell (a fascinatingly out of place RON SILVER) can explain why after viewing the film, Mary has begun seeing it’s titular antagonist stalking about and has had every one of her own off-handed wishes come true with decidedly horrific results. SPLICED bites off a little more than it can chew for sure but its over the top histrionic heart, dubious dialogue (which seems almost AI generated) and film within a film references (THE WISHER movie is apparently sweeping the nation, a marquee shows it playing alongside HALLOWEEN RESURRECTION and it even has a convincing full page ad in the newspaper boasting its 4th smash week) make it pretty darn entertaining in my book.
I caught 1985’s THE DEADLY INTRUDER on VHS (Can't resist a Theon EMI clamshell case) many years ago but quickly wrote it off as yet another escaped mental patient picture (which it is) but something about its murky, late night vibe has always stuck with me. I even forgot the title but was able to track it down again having remembered that it featured Danny Bonaduce of THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY in a supporting role. Although this micro-budgeted semi-slasher is still muddy enough at points to make my mind wonder all over the place and subjects the viewer to a hysterical heroine who seems to have never learned how to run, it provides a groovy synth score, a nifty twist to deferential itself from the pack, and hopefully a small paycheck for a game but underused Stuart Whitman (Hooper's EATEN ALIVE). I would love to see this hidden oddity graduate to high definition some day but I gotta admit there’s something about its relentlessly dark, grainy, nearly indecipherable imagery that adds to its charm. Bonus points for one particularly vicious kill and a pretty decent stinger of a final image.
Fritz Lang’s SECRET BEYOND THE DOOR (1947) is a moody noir thriller and gothic romance that once it reveals its titular secret, may leave you wishing you’d revisited Hitchcock’s superior REBECCA instead. Don’t blame the great Joan Bennet (SUSPIRIA, DARK SHADOWS), she carries the whole affair on her back and it’s a pleasure to hear her distinctive voice even when she’s navigating through the tritest of dialogue. Bennet plays Celia, a navel gazing woman who marries a man she barely knows only to find out he is either a murderous psycho or just super grumpy and emotionally abusive. I mean, the guy doesn’t even bother to inform her that he has a son until poor Celia moves in with him! This is a beautifully shot black and white Universal film (that even reuses the exact foggy grove of trees featured in THE WOLF MAN to nice effect) with a decent paranoid set up and passable performances (GILLIGAN’S ISLAND’s lovey Howell Natalie Schafer steals a few scenes) but oh boy, the (non) payoff is a clunker and it’s very difficult to believe that there was any time period in which people would behave in the head-scratching way that the characters do here. Considering all that transpires, it's legit bonkers that the film insists on an "all's well that ends well" denouement.
I finally solved a “Name That Trauma” of my own recently. While finishing a flick on Tubi, it fortuitously suggested 2013’s SCARECROW to me as something I might be interested in next. I caught this movie on TV back in the day (apparently on the SyFy channel as it’s one of their originals) but forgot its title. All google attempts failed due to the fact that I wrongly remembered it starring Danielle Harris instead of Lacey Chabert (they do kinda resemble each other so I’ll give myself a break). I know that in most cases SyFy movies should be avoided at all costs but this one isn’t half bad and I think the fact that it stuck in my crawl for so many years says something. I do have a soft spot for the killer scarecrow sub-genre and I especially like that (the admittedly too generically titled) SCARECROW features a group of hapless people trapped in a farm house a la’ NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD with the fields around them becoming almost like shark infested waters. The scarecrow creature itself is more of a morphing root demon than any scarecrow I’ve ever seen but hey, all it really needs to be is an unpredictable threat and I’m on board. Sure it’s silly but the character dynamics are fun (there’s a love triangle and a requisite selfish saboteur) and the peck them off one by one, survival element works well. Lil’ Lacey even gets her chance to grab an axe and go relatively badass. Mostly I'm just relieved to finally find this needle in a killer scarecrow movie haystack and can’t wait to move on with my life.
I caught Gary Sherman’s brutal VICE SQUAD ('82) on late night HBO as a kid while staying at a friend’s house and it rocked my world. I love it’s grit, I love its sleazy LA setting and I especially love its beyond terrifying psycho antagonist Ramrod portrayed by the remarkable Wings Hauser (who incidentally also sings the film’s glorious theme song entitled “Neon Slime”). Not sure how a movie that features an OG MTV VJ (Nina Blackwood) being beaten to death with a clothes hanger has somehow almost become a comfort movie for me but here we are. I think it’s because it never fails to make me feel completely in danger even in my own home. It’s possible this flick permanently changed the wiring in my head all those years ago and I have to periodically watch it again to remember what it felt like to be that riveted.
I usually refrain from watching horror movies during the day but I was seeing such a frenzy of discourse concerning THE DELIVERANCE this past Labor Day that I had see what all the hubbub was about ASAP. Based on an alleged real haunting/possession, this soapy Lee Daniels anomaly doesn’t quite satisfy
but it sure is a hoot and a half to watch thanks to vibrant performances and its go for broke nature. Honestly, the less you take it seriously, the better off you’ll be. I’m assuming since it references VALLEY OF THE DOLLS, Blaine and Antoine, the “Hated it!” guys from IN LIVING COLOR, and features Colleen Camp as a doctor that its tongue is firmly planted in its cheek and high camp was an intended goal but I've heard otherwise from many. In any case, this is at least its own wacky beast and although it has trouble whipping up the scares due to its inconsistent tone, I’m always at least a little unnerved by the loss of personal control element innate to any possession film. The true mark of success for me will depend on exactly how many people I see dressed up as Glenn Close’s scene stealing character Alberta this Halloween. I’m guessing they’ll be legion.
I randomly came across THE TODD KILLINGS (’71) on DVD at my local used media shop recently and I’m so glad I did. Like Jack Ketchum’s THE LOST and Joyce Carol Oates' "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been" (the inspiration for 85's excellent SMOOTH TALK), it’s based on the crimes of Charles Schmid a young charismatic pied piper who somehow was able to entice his admirers into killing innocents for kicks. Underrated character actor Robert F. Lyons (DARK NIGHT OF THE SCARECROW) plays Skipper Todd an amoral egoist who fancies himself a rock star, lives off his mother (DALLAS’ Barbara Bel Geddes ) and manipulates the impressionable until finally his cowardly crimes catch up to him. Early seventies California looks gorgeous throughout and I dig the Scooby Doo flavored fashions and the near constant rotation of recognizable stars of that era like THE WALTONS Richard Thomas as an easy mark for Skipper, and an underused Gloria Graham (BLOOD AND LACE) as his worried mom. FAMILY’s James Broderick (Mathew’s pop) is allotted a choice scene where he gets to read Skipper to his face and inform him how mundane his rebel without a clue edgelord tendencies are and that he is fundamentally as bourgeois as those he condemns. This one’s a real find for those enjoy seventies cinema, psychological thrillers or simply watching sociopath bullies get what’s coming to them!
I went to see A QUIET PLACE: DAY ONE in the movie theater but right at the point when the creatures were attacking New York City there was a bomb threat and the entire audience had to be evacuated! So there I was, much like the characters in the movie running down stairs while sirens roared wondering if these were my last moments of life. Well, finally the movie hit streaming and I can see what I missed (the theater did give me a free pass in compensation but I figured I use it on something else). I might have to watch the first two movies again to verify this but at this point, even though I enjoyed them all, I’m actually thinking this latest entry is my favorite of the three. I really loved the amped up disaster movie vibe and delighted in watching people running for their lives as the world crumbled around them (from GODZILLA VS THE SMOG MONSTER to EARTHQUAKE to the simulated Cylon attack in GALACTICA 1980, I’ve been a sucker for catastrophe ever since I was a kid). The fact that this flick involves monsters ravaging a modern city and attacking people in broad daylight in droves something I (and many I'm sure) have always fantasized for the ALIEN franchise, makes it all the more awesome sauce. I also identified with the characters (Lupita Nyong’o’s terminally ill curmudgeon Sam, STRANGER THINGS’ Joseph Quinn's overwhelmed and vulnerable Eric and HEREDITARY’s Alex Wolf as not long for this world Rueben) much more as they were flawed relatable outsiders rather than some milquetoast family who probably badgered retail workers before society collapsed anyway. Also this film knew that to truly drive me up the wall insane it must include a cat in peril due to my every nightmare involving exactly that. Just seeing a person carrying a cat in the city (looking at you INSIDE LLEWYN DAVIS) is enough to make my right leg start shaking like a jack hammer. Bring on DAY TWO.
I had exactly zero hope for BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE because somewhere along the line I had thrown in the towel in regards to Tim Burton as a director. It almost seemed like he was purposely destroying everything I enjoyed in life and gleefully stomping on my personal favorite things. How dare he take beloved works like PLANET OF THE APES, CHARLIE & THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY, ALICE IN WONDERLAND (the mere thought of the break-dancing mad Hatter scene in ALICE still makes me want to jump out a window) and DARK SHADOWS and turn them into intolerable tacky looking miasma mush? Burton has kicked me in the shins more times than I can count and as far as I was concerned his talent had tapped out long ago. But then I started hearing all this (equally shocked) positive word of mouth and noticed rave reviews popping up and wondered could it be? Had the storm of ugliness finally passed? I had to find out and find out I did and gosh darn it, I loved BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE. It’s like a dream come true to me. It builds off of the OG beautifully, enhances and broadens its world, is routinely funny and most miraculously, has the manic energy, weirdo style and wild enthusiasm of Burton’s early assured artistry. I’m so glad I kept an open mind and gave it a chance because the climax of this movie brought actual tears of euphoric joy to my eyes. Ya see, I really loved the first BEETLEJUICE (and its companion cartoon) but had retroactively forgotten how much so due to Burton's string of debacles and now I feel like something of great value has returned to me. Listen folks, if I can believe in Tim Burton again anything in this crazy world is possible. Never forget that.
You must be logged in to post a comment.