kindertrauma

Year: 2010

Traumafessions :: Reader Jason T. on Pennywise

Posted on By aunt john

When I was four years old and living in New Jersey, I was sent into a storm drain to retrieve a baseball that my brothers and friends lost during their game on the street. So into the black hole I went, I found the ball and then tried to get out and quickly realized that I was stuck and I could not get out. About an hour and a half later I emerged from the dark place thanks to my parents and friends from the neighborhood. While I was in the hole I had this terrifying feeling that something was in there with me. It was the longest hour and a half of my life, and the scariest.

A few years after the storm drain incident I caught my first viewing of Stephen King's IT on TV. While I watched the scene when Pennywise is in the storm drain and is trying to lure Georgie in I was more terrified than I ever had been since I had gone though a similar experience. Worst of all now I could put a face to the unknown thing that was in the dark hole with me, the face of Pennywise the evil clown. To this day that scene scares me like no other.

Name That Trauma :: Reader Paul B. on a Roof Busting Beast

Posted on By aunt john

I just returned from Florida and during the Universal Horror Make-Up Show they showed a compilation of special effects from horror throughout the decades, one clip in particular caught my attention and would like to find out which film it's from.

It was only 5 seconds long but it had a monster/vampire similar to the monster from TOBE HOOPER's THE FUNHOUSE, he had broken through the roof of a house and was trying to get to someone on the roof (I think)….I'd be impressed if this one is solved.

Many thanks,

Paul B.



UPDATE: NAME THAT TRAUMA SOLVED! Per Paul, "Judging by the video it looks like ARMY OF DARKNESS (my least watched of the EVIL DEAD films). The 3 seconds when I was in the audience obviously wasn't enough to register with my brain. A shame, I was hoping it was some unseen gem." So kudos to UNK and thanks to Jergy for the assist!

Horror Digest Funhouse-O-Vision!

Posted on By unkle lancifer

We interrupt our regularly scheduled Kindertrauma Funhouse with an emergency transmission from HORROR DIGEST! Yes, our old pal ANDRE DUMAS is back with ten film images that must be deciphered. Do you recognize these films within films? Guess away and let special funhouse guest host ANDRE help you along the way! Make sure you also check out ANDRE on her home network HERE!

Sugar Hill (1974)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

I'm beside myself with enthusiasm for the 1974 supernatural zombie blaxploitation flick SUGAR HILL. My life before viewing it now seems to be, in retrospect, a sham. One time STARSKY AND HUTCH regular MARKI BEY is both ice cool and fiery fierce as Diana "Sugar" Hill, a woman scorned and reborn as a voodoo vigilante in a killer pantsuit. When Sugar's best beau refuses to sell his groovy nightclub "Club Haiti" to the mob he ends up beaten to death by goons in his own parking lot. Outnumbered and determined to even the score (and then some) Sugar gets by with a little help from her new friends; a geriatric voodoo virtuoso, a top hat wearing, trickster phantom and plenty of silver eyed-cobweb cloaked zombies. No difficulty knowing whom to root for here.

So I guess I thought I was going to enjoy SUGAR as an ironic hoot. I thought I'd bask in its hokiness, take in its eyeball busting fashions and smirk at the corn. Instead I found myself absolutely and fully entertained on every level. It does have a makeshift low budget air and the clothes and acting styles are of a different dimension but that doesn't curtail the movie from being a hundred percent engaging. The plot doesn't involve much more than following Sugar around on her EC COMICS inspired revenge spree but SUGAR has got atmosphere and attitude up the wazoo. Foggy, swampy and colorful, it also contributes a refreshingly original take on the living dead. Let's take a closer look at why I'm all bitten and smitten…

DIANE "SUGAR" HILL

MARKI BEY may lack the overall gravitas of icon PAM GREER but in many ways she's more down to Earth approachable too. Once Sugar gets rolling she's an unflinching comeuppance machine and she delivers her BUFFY-esgue pre-stomping quips like a seasoned pro. When asked how strong her hate is Sugar says, "As strong as my love was, my hate is even stronger." That's my type of woman!

MOMMA MAITRESSE

I have a real issue with actress ZARA CULLY and that issue is that I think she is the funniest person who ever lived. Yes, that's mother Jefferson from THE JEFFERSONS and I could not be happier to see her.

Maitreese is a bit reluctant to get her voodoo on initially but as soon as she sees the results of her mojo, she's all ear to ear smiles (as well she should be). The zombie awakening scene in SUGAR HILL is a showstopper and brings to mind both CHILDREN SHOULDN'T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS and MICHAEL JACKSON's THRILLER.

BARON SAMEDI

DON PEDRO CULLY's turn as the fantastically frocked God of the dead "Samedi" is a twisted treat and a half. Samedi appears at will, in many a guise and is a master of lascivious mischievousness. Imagine Candyman and Freddy Kruegar combined under one top hat and then wonder forever why SUGAR remains without a sequel.

VALENTINE

Just because Sugar's main squeeze is recently departed doesn't mean she doesn't have time for romance. RICHARD LAWSON appears as Sugar's old flame "Valentine" who suspects foul play but can't possibly imagine the "fowl" play reality of an animated voodoo killer chicken claw. If LAWSON looks familiar to all you horror fans out there, you might recall him donning a striped sweater in the classic POLTERGEIST.

MORGAN

If you're looking for a big baddie with some full-fledged horror cred, how can go wrong with ROBERT QUARRY? QUARRY's resume includes COUNT YORGA, VAMPIRE and THE RETURN OF COUNT YORGA plus he starred in both DOCTOR PHIBES RISES AGAIN and MADHOUSE with VINCENT PRICE! Like all good revenge flicks SUGAR saves Morgan's demise for last and squeezes as much satisfaction out of it as possible.

ZOMBIES

Oh, how I love the zombies in this movie. They're less the decrepit rotty kind you'd find in a ROMERO movie and more the pissed off phantasmal kind like you'll find in CARPENTER's THE FOG. Their eyeballs look like silver ping-pong balls sliced in half and they come covered in cobwebs and accessorized with shackles and machetes. These guys are somehow both silly and strangely scary and I will never not like that combo.

THEME SONG

If I had my way it would be mandatory for every horror movie to have a theme song. SUGAR HILL has a doozy in THE ORIGINAL's SUPERNATURAL VOODOO WOMAN! What a great way to instantly get in the mood!

IN CLOSING

What more encouragement do you need to visit SUGAR HILL? Although hard to track down on DVD, SUGAR is currently available on NETFLIX streaming. This is ghoulish fun that packs a punch while retaining a gleefully morbid sense of humor. It's perfect for the Halloween season and fans of CREEPSHOW and TALES FROM THE CRYPT should be doubly pleased with just how sweet SUGAR's vengeance can be.

Name That Trauma :: Reader Crudeman C. on a Phantom Prospector & a Japanese Jungle

Posted on By aunt john

I have two vivid memories of being scared to the point of trauma by something seen on T.V. as a child. I am 42 and believe I was probably about 3 when I witnessed these, so we're talking around 1970-71.

The first image is an animated sequence which featured a phantom prospector in a ghostly covered wagon. The wagon was attached to skeletal horses, and I believe the prospector may have been a skeleton as well. The animation was pretty stylized and cartoonish, but what REALLY creeped me out was the voice of the prospector and horses, which had a haunting echoing quality.

The second image I think may have been from a Japanese horror film. A group of soldiers are walking single file through a jungle setting. The soldiers pass under a tree and as the last one passes beneath it, a snake, vine, or tentacle comes down and wraps around his throat, strangling him.

I've carried these images burned into my mind for almost 40 years, but have never been able to figure out what they're from.

Traumafessions :: Reader Ariel on The Ankle Grabber & The Flat Man

Posted on By aunt john

Okay, so I was a pretty sensitive child and got scared easily, so when my school librarian decided to read a couple scary stories to my elementary class during library time, it wasn't going to end well.

The two stories that traumatized me beyond belief were "The Ankle Grabber," and "The Flat Man," both by Rose Impey. They are two books in a series called "Creepies" and boy are they ever. The following stories are actually supposed to make children feel better about monsters (because the children in the stories are always just imagining them and the monsters are always defeated in the end) but they had the opposite effect on me.

The Ankle Grabber was about a young child who was convinced that there was a monster under her bed. This monster was the Ankle Grabber, and he lived in a swamp that existed under the bed. If you ever looked, he could camoflague it to look like ground, but when you weren't looking it was a horrid sticky mess of a place. The Ankle Grabber lived for one thing: to pull you under the bed and into his swamp. He'd do this by, obviously, grabbing your ankles with his long, bony fingers and pulling you under. His hands were so strong that once he got a hold of you, there was no hope.

The only good thing was that he was stuck there. He could reach up the side of you bed, but if you stayed in the middle, or pressed up against the wall (if your bed was against a wall as mine was) he couldn't reach you. However, the Ankle Grabber was sneaky. In order to lure you closer so he could reach you, he would drag some of your toys or socks closer to the bed, so when you would go to get them – BAM! – you'd be his. This explains why missing socks are always found underneath the bed…

I didn't take this well.

Every night for years (I did it right up into my teens) I would take a running leap into my bed, so my feet would never be susceptible to the Ankle Grabber's long fingers. Whenever I wanted to get into my mom's bed – same thing. A huge running leap, and then landing with a crash onto the bed. The only bed in the house that was safe was my brother's. At the time, he had a wooden bed with drawers for storage underneath. He had no space under his bed, and therefore, had no Ankle Grabber Swamp. How I envied him. Even to this day, I feel uncomfortable with my feet resting beside my bed.

The other story, "The Flat Man" Is about a young boy who likes to imagine that the sounds he hears in the night are a monster called the Flat Man. The tapping at the window? You think it's tree branches, but no. It's the Flat Man tapping, trying to get in. The chugging of a train far off? Nope. It's the Flat Man squeezing himself through the cracks, whispering, "You can't keep me out…" He can even get under the covers! The Flat Man is a creepy character who sneaks his way into your room and then…well I'm not sure. I suppose he "gets you". Whatever that means. Anyway, you can defeat him by shining a light at him, and he crumples up like a ball of paper and blows away in the breeze.

He's not quite as scary at the Ankle Grabber, but that's when I started sleeping with a nightlight. And a flashlight. Also extra batteries in case my flashlight died.

Now you'll excuse me as I curl up in a corner and cry.

Cheers,

Ariel

Carrie (Brat Productions)

Posted on By aunt john

Historically, theater and your dear old Aunt John have had a rocky relationship. Admittedly, I have the attention span of a gnat doing the backstroke in bongwater and the prospect of sitting in a captive position without a regulated commercial break, whereby I can catch a smoke, escalates my innate fidgetiness. I am the last person you want to watch a DVD with if you require absolute silence (UNK SEZ: for serious!) or, moreover, drag to a play. I have walked out on more theatrical productions at intermission than I can recall — 'cause that's I how roll — and yeah, I'm looking at you TOMMY.

That said, I had some personal reservations when I read that local theater company BRAT was mounting a production of CARRIE, a comedy by ERIK JACKSON, based on the novel by STEPHEN KING. And by personal reservations, I mean could I sit still long enough without embarrassing or otherwise raising the ire of Unkle Lancifer?

Well dear readers, after last night's outing, I am happy to say that I sat completely enraptured, when I wasn't comprising my bladder control from laughing, and I did not once give your Unk pause to pretend to not know me. More importantly though, stop whatever it is that you are doing, you have got to go see this stage version of CARRIE! I don't care where you live… now is the time to visit Philadelphia, so get your ass on the BoltBus or JetBlue, and see this chestnut before the final curtain drops on November 7th.

Seriously, I could care less about the Tonys, but if I had the power to be kingmaker and give out such awards, this whole cast gets gold stars. LEAH WALTON steals every last scene in her PIPER LAURIE as channeled by ANDREA MARTIN interpretation of Carrie's kooky mom Margaret White. She does meet her match head on at a poorly attended Tupperware Party (the rapid-fire ‘70s references abounding in this play are beyond awesome) when COLLEEN CORCORAN shows up as Carrie's concerned gym teacher, Miss Gardner. CORCORAN is so on her A-Game as she puts Carrie's bullies (Chris Hargensen, et al.) through what could best be described as a jazzercise showdown.

The play cleverly mashes up the classic novel with the ingenious film and yet has enough of its own gumption to throw in a couple of elements all its own. The music is amazing and the timing on the "Carrie" cue in a certain KANSAS song is beyond impressive. The occasionally wonky special effects don't stand a chance in hell… they are stomped on by the fearless and improvisation-ready cast. Expect more hilarity than horror. If you haven't figured out what makes this archetypal tale a permanent go-to, the message is spelled out for you before the curtain closes. Individuality is a gift not a curse. Go BRAT and go CARRIE… it is a SNELL of a good time!