kindertrauma

Category: General Horror

The Haunting of Julia (1977)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

I'm going to forgive myself for not fully getting THE HAUNTING OF JULIA (a.k.a FULL CIRCLE) when I first watched it many years ago. I knew nothing about grief back then and chances are great that I was under the influence of cheap beer and surrounded by wisecracking knuckleheads. I'm also sure the pan and scan VHS presentation did it few favors. Watching it late last night in HD (on Fearnet On Demand) it struck me as easily worthy of being included among the best ghost stories ever put to film, so much so that I watched it again this morning to confirm. See, it's important to forgive yourself whenever you can, otherwise you risk being left behind in an ever darkening "once was" while the rest of the world blooms ahead. It's like being one of those tiny marshmallows that stink up the Jell-o. You should especially take it easy on yourself if you are a failure at giving your child an emergency tracheotomy or if you are not familiar with the Heimlich maneuver because it's the mid-seventies and not all that popular yet. These things happen. If you don't let go of the past you just attract more of the same but worse.

Julia Lofting (MIA FARROW) watched helplessly as her kid Kate choked to death while she and her husband Magnus (KEIR DULLEA) had what appeared to be a contest to see who could be the most spazzy and useless. After a brief stay in a mental hospital, Julia decides that without her daughter she has no one to pretend she likes her husband for, and so she moves into a place of her own to clear her head. As fate would have it, Julia picks the exact worst place in the world to move into for someone who is trying to get over the death of a child. It has 2 bedrooms, 2 baths, 2 closely linked mysterious child deaths and a great view of her impending madness! Is the place really haunted or is Julia losing her marbles? Remember folks, those two things are NOT mutually exclusive. Understandably Julia begins to believe that if she can help the troubled spirit in her house, she can make up for that crappy day she played OPERATIONwith her daughter's neck and lost big time. It's a plan that backfires when everyone in her vicinity begins to die tragically and she slowly becomes the unwitting semi-possessed tool of an evil presence so heinous it has no issue putting into service, a wind-up clown doll with sharp clashing cymbals.

THE HAUNTING OF JULIA demands to be seen more than once to read its vaporous code. It trudges lethargically at times but that's all the better to conjure a melancholic tsunami. Look closely and a figure darts past a mirror or an intangible shadow spills across the screen, for long moments you are kept in pitch black with only a glimmer of an eye as your guide. Allow yourself, and there are intense moments of anticipation for what might break through- yet never quite does. It's subtle, probably too ambiguous for most but it seizes territory larger than itself, where anything in the imagination might materialize and the usual mental guardrails disappear. At one point Julia decides to visit the ghost girl's crazy ma in the nuthouse and the crone is wheeled out with purple hair and a smile that's impossible to pin down. Is she pretty, hideous, happy, evil, or insane? It's like an ever-changing Rorschach smile you wouldn't think possible outside an animated cartoon. Finally she lets the cat out of the bag, "I'm dead! And safe! Safe and dead!" That's not what I wanted to hear. I'm sorry but old ladies are the scariest. If you are an old lady you should just know that and try to refrain from cackles and grimaces.

THE HAUNTING OF JULIA scarcely solidifies its spectral presence but who needs ghostly effects when gauzy MIA FARROW is wraith-ing up the joint? Apparitions in the know realize that it's not what or why you haunt but whom. FARROW is always an interesting screen presence, even if I'm not sure what's going on with her only sometimes British accent. Her translucent skin and abandoned eyes beg the question "Who haunts who?" and lo and behold, that's much of the point. As is often her way, she goes through the emotional ringer here and it's difficult not to feel something while witnessing her crippling heartbreak become eclipsed by cold solace found in an impossible goal that leads nowhere but down. I also need to praise the consistently dank and maudlin cinematography with its no fear attitude toward tenebrosity and the supremely mesmeric score by COLIN TOWNS that I could easily spin in an endless loop when playing solitaire or whist working on filing off my ankle bracelet. Maybe it just comes down to seeing a movie at the right time and in the right frame of mind in the end but I'm grateful this one didn't hold a grudge due to my first impression and selected to creep back in my life. Maybe once long ago it flew over my head but this time it crashed right into it.

The Nesting (1981)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Hold onto your hats because I'm about to blow your minds. There's a movie about a neurotic woman spending time in a glorious gothic mansion that's haunted by GLORIA GRAHAME (BLOOD AND LACE, MANSION OF THE DOOMED) and, here's the crazy part, I don't particularly care for it. Does that even make sense? How on Earth is that even remotely possible? I've investigated this phenomenon from every possible angle and it still remains true. It's a genuine paradox. Here's another thing, and I feel justified playing this card because I rarely do, I really dislike the main character. I'd blame the actress (ROBIN GROVES) entirely, because she does get on my nerves in a distinct way, but I have to give her some slack as the script relentlessly demands that she act like a persnickety crab. She probably would work as a snide side-character but being handcuffed to this self-absorbed harpy for the entire run of the film becomes laborious. I found myself fantasizing throughout most of THE NESTING that a bus would appear out of nowhere a'la FINAL DESTINATION and just erase her from the screen in a honking blur. Is that normal? Maybe I need to get one of those EXORCIST brain scans. I'm starting to think I have contracted that mental disorder you get from cat poop.

Speaking of mental disorders, our story begins with self-proclaimed "brilliant" novelist Lauren Cochran (GROVES) experiencing a panic attack while walking the streets of a city. Her shrink says she has agoraphobia, which she has never heard of. I would have diagnosed her with whatever is the opposite of agoraphobia due to the fact that throughout the film she acts in the exact opposite way that an agoraphobic would unless agoraphobics are known for moving into towns they've never been, climbing on very high roofs and visiting people alone they are warned not to in the middle of nowhere. Truth is, I'd overlook all that contradictory behavior if our hero were capable of any facial expression besides, "I smell Limburger."

I'm not a stickler for authentic human reactions when we're dealing with a movie that focuses on fantastic events, but after Lauren is chased by a murderous bug-eyed hillbilly and is cornered and forced to murder him by slitting his head like a melon with a scythe, I expect her to respond in some other way besides running home to wearily curl up with a smoke. I also have a hard time believing her love interest when he shows up and says something along the lines of, "Don't worry, I talked to the police (about the guy you killed) and it's cool."

On the other hand there's something delicious about a movie that so steadily delivers elements to disapprove of. I derive no joy hallucinating I'm somehow superior by passively pointing out flaws from the couch and yet the mongrel in my brain can't resist gnawing on a bone this succulently aggravating. So in a way, I do somewhat enjoy NOT enjoying THE NESTING. Luckily, the already mentioned memorable house, the overall overgrown, run-down rural setting and the early eighties time period make this exasperating pill easier to swallow. It's too bad it doesn't work better though; there are worse ideas than stealing shamelessly from THE SHINING, GHOST STORY and THE CHANGELING.

The biggest sin of all has to be its squandering of GLORIA GRAHAME in her final film role. She's barely on screen and when she is, most of her quirkiness is gauzed over. They even slap her with a dubbed, ill-fitting high-pitched laugh, what a waste! Maybe I'll give it some worthless extra credit for at least trying to be more cerebral and less teen-friendly than what was popular at the time, even though it is probably that exact higher goal that allows it to fall on its face as hard as it does.

These are a few of my favorite FRIDAY THE 13th things!

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Look at the date! It's Friday the 13th once again! Please allow me to present to you my 13 most favorite things in the Friday the 13th series…

# 13: THE GALLOWS HUMOR (PART 6) "What were you going to be when you grew up?" Look, I know precocious children are borderline intolerable but something about these kids being so blasé about the impending eradication of all their future plans really cracks me up.

# 12: THE JUST DESSERTS (PART 7) Bringing a whole new kind of camp to the series, THE NEW BLOOD offers not one but two highly satisfying love-to-hate-you character deaths. It helps that shady doctors and spoiled snobs rank high on my own personal hit list. Dr. Crews goes from pesky to deplorable when he throws Tina's mom under the Voorhees bus to save his own skin and bitchy Melissa makes her clobbering all the more delicious by delivering some choice lines right before meeting her fate.

# 11: LEARNING TO SWIM (PART 8) I'm not such a big fan of this entry these days but this flashback scene involving young Rennie's evil Uncle teaching her how to swim by throwing her overboard seconds after telling her the Jason Legend is just way too kindertraumatic to ignore.

# 10: THE HERO TAKES A FALL (PART 4) Although hunky do-gooders rarely fare well in the series, something about Rob seeking to avenge his sister's death and his clear awareness of Jason makes you think he may have the chops to survive. Not going to happen. Rob is clearly shocked by not being invited to the final round as well, screaming "He's killing me!" as Jason grants him a bitch-slap of a poorly lit undignified death.

# 9: THE LIGHTENING FLASH (PART 7) Yes, more love for NEW BLOOD! What can I say; I've got to follow my heart. There's a great moment in this entry that takes place in a completely dark room but then there's a flash of lightening and you see ol' Jason standing in the corner. I know it's simple but I'm a simple person.

DANCE BREAK! (PART 4 & PART 5) This is me both pandering and desperately trying to find a way to include PART 5.

# 8: LIKE THE CORNERS OF MY MIND (PART 3) One way to quickly endear a new character to fright fans is to insist that they have been a part of the story for some time. Chris Higgins reveals she's no scream newbie when she recalls her first encounter with the Legend of Crystal Lake via blurry double exposure flashback. Unlike Jason's more typical precision takedowns, this rough and ragged confrontation gets dangerously close to resembling an actual assault. Jason's identity mostly being hidden in shadow and Chris's spotty incomplete recollection only add to the disturbing tone.

# 7: TIME FOR YOUR CLOSE UP (THE ORIGINAL) Look at poor Marcie with an axe in her skull! Has there ever been a more straight forward and (pardon the pun) in-your-face kill? Could this be accomplished any better today? Nope. Most kills these days look all rubbery and clean but damn, this is all gritty, messy and excuse the understatement, impolite.

# 6: THE CHANGE OF PLANS (PART 2) Mark's death works for me simply because it is so incredibly cruel. Football jersey wearing Mark has got this All-American (actor TOM McBRIDE even appeared in Marlboro ads), can-do spirit about him. An accident requires that he use a wheelchair but he's determined that someday he'll walk again. A girl named Vicki totally throws herself at him and instead of being mortified by her desperation, he agrees to meet up with her later. That's when Jason smacks a machete into his face and, it gets worse, his chair rolls down a flight of stairs! Who thought of this? They have mental problems. Kudos.

# 5: HELP ME! (THE ORIGINAL) Sometimes I think the eeriest scene in the entire series is when Brenda curls up with a paperback and begins to hear a high-pitched indistinct cry for help. Nobody wants to be the kind of dummy who walks into their own death but what kind of person wouldn't investigate just in case? At this point we have no idea who the killer is and the ghostly voice lost in the storm adds a vague supernatural flavor to the brew.

# 4: A ROOM WITH A VIEW (PART 3) Monster faces fill my heart with joy so why is there a millisecond or so at the end of FRIDAY PART 3 when Jason appears in a window that to this day gives me hella heebie-jeebies? Who knows why but some of the most haunting images I've ever laid my eyes on involve just a figure in a window looking out. This may have them all beat because after a moment of static confusion Jason springs into destroy mode and begins pawing at the glass like a trapped ravenous beast. I don't care that the rest of the movie is mostly a goofy 3-D lark; I go "yikes" here.

# 3: A DREAM OF BLOOD. (THE ORIGINAL) There's a storm coming and Marcie's senses are picking up something not quite right. She barely recalls having a dream where the rain turned to blood. Ack! How can this be any creepier? Is there anything worse than that foreboding feeling that somebody just walked over your grave? The simple idea of sensing your own approaching death as you unknowingly circle the drain freaks me out. Laugh if you want but this blink and you'll miss it moment captures for me the exact same existential dread that curdled my soul in LAKE MUNGO.

# 2: THERAPY IN SESSION (PART 2) Alice who? Plucky final girls are a dime a dozen but our pal Ginny Fields takes girl- power to a higher level by throwing some emotional intelligence and empathy for the plight of "frightened retard(s)" into her survival kit. Standing before the shrine Jason built for his beloved mother, Ginny Freud illustrates the healing power of role-play and sweater transference therapy. It doesn't entirely succeed but that's what she gets for making the rookie error of attempting to cut the session short with a machete.

# 1: ALICE'S RUDE AWAKENING (THE ORIGINAL) I don't care if it wasn't in the script, whose idea it was, or if it was an abashed rip off of CARRIE. This is just one of the greatest moments in any movie horror or otherwise. With the picture perfect postcard setting and the chiming pre-TWIN PEAKS soap opera score, we're lead to believe that all is well in the world and than BAM, a fucking rotting corpse basically rips right through the idyllic cornball landscape. What was once a relatively grounded murder mystery about tangible revenge instantly and permanently nosedives into the less graspable realm of the uncanny. They can say it's a dream all they like, we know better. I can't think of too many moments in film that capture so fully what horror is all about.

BONUS: MADDY'S MAKE OVER (PART 7) Is it wrong that I delight in the sad fact that Maddy re-invents herself only to be killed moments later? That's what you get for changing yourself for a guy. If only THE BREAKFAST CLUB ended the same way.

Willard (2003)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

I don't mean to alarm anybody but it appears that at some point between the time I watched WILLARD back in 2003 and yesterday, somebody magically changed the tone of the entire film. What was once a quirky, dark-humored revenge flick concerning adorable critters is now a morbidly tragic character study that mercilessly kicked my heart in the crotch. I didn't even know my heart had a crotch. Now I understand why this wasn't a huge hit. Honey, I shrunk the cathartic payoff! I feel horrible right now thanks to WILLARD but that's not saying I'm not happy about it.

One thing that has not changed since my first viewing is the fact that CRISPIN GLOVER is wonderful in the title role. I'm not just saying that because he's weird and I mistake weirdness for talent. I don't buy into that stuff. I was voted most likely to feel apathetic towards JOHNNY DEPP seventy million times in a row! GLOVER just IS Willard. He's owns it like a birthright. He's fearless and gracefully awkward and heartbreaking and you want to save him but you can't. And what a face…he's like a twisted male GARBO!

Modern science will never be able to explain my penchant for stories concerning abuse-baiting social misfits failing to connect with the world but not failing to reside in big creepy houses with fantastic furniture. It's one of those mysteries that will never be solved like why does the Loch Ness monster always leave the cap off the toothpaste and how come I woke up barefoot in an alley? Focus. Poor Willard is trapped in life. In fact, there are tons of gates, bars and cages everywhere he goes. People treat him poorly and are remarkably unmoved by the fact that he has the coolest nose ever captured on film. Life pretends not to be a nightmare for a brief time when he makes a new friend in a rat he names Socrates. Unfortunately, caring for something breeds vulnerability and the road to hell is paved in cheese. Willard may be the low man on the totem pole at work but in his basement, he becomes a God or at least relatively tall in comparison to his followers. He builds an army of rats and my dream is he'll take over the world.

But then there is the problem of Ben. Ben is the shadow rat. He's dark where Socrates is snow white. The pair make like a little angel and a little devil standing on Willard's shoulders and whispering in his ears. You could say one represents good and the other evil but who still believes in such outdated things? I think Socrates represents the hopeful dream and big fat Ben represents reality. Willard goes to sleep at night cuddled next to Socrates imagining a friend-filled future free from the cage but every morning, no matter what, he wakes up with that darn Ben staring back at him. Ben reminds him of his suffocating mother (the delightfully corpse-like JACKIE BUROUGHS), his battle-axe boss (R. LEE ERMEY, you know the drill) and his absent by way of suicide Dad (an image only cameo by original WILLARD (1971) star BRUCE DAVISON). He underlines with a black marker the truth Willard does not want to face; his fate is in the hands of others and that he'll never steer the ship. Ben's not all bad news though, because he'll also chew the face off anyone he's told to. But ultimately Willard betrays Ben and, in doing so, he betrays his own dark side and his own latent power. He fails to merge and become whole. I sympathize but it's frustrating.

One thing that's nice about WILLARD the film is that it's remarkably old fashioned. It's thoughtfully shot and nobly spends quality time setting up the party and handing out the nametags to all the guests. Sadly though, I think its archaic nature also demands that Willard find comeuppance for his deeds and I'm not feeling that. I know, I sound like a hypocrite because I usually say happy endings are for cowards but in this lone case, I'm making an exception. This is my thing but it fails to be my super-thing by not doing what I'm telling it to do nearly a decade after its release. My recipe would be: more human death, less animal death! Yes, I'm proud to be one of those shameful folks who hold the lives of animals in higher regard than the lives of humans! Surprisingly that even includes rats. I'm supposed to feel bad about that? I'm sorry humanity but I think if you reflect on your behavior over the last thousand years, you'll collectively realize you're not so hot. What I'm saying is get over yourself humans and don't feel bad when I tell you that I'd rather watch a bunch of you being slowly skinned alive than witness one rat stub its toe! Gee, no wonder I have so few friends.

WILLARD was directed by GLEN MORGAN who also did the needlessly harassed BLACK CHRISTMAS remake. Both films are visually sharp, are thrown off balance by apprehensive storytelling, boast genius scores by SHIRLEY WALKER and were born completely immune to audience appreciation. I think he's really underrated and maybe just has a curse on his head, so I send out apologetic karma balloons in hope that it helps. WILLARD is a good movie, it's just not always a good time but keep in mind that's coming from somebody who would have chosen Ben over Socrates in the first place.

Jury Duty:: Psychophobia!

Posted on By unkle lancifer

UNK SEZ: Can you believe I have to go to jury duty today? If you were an innocent person would you want me deciding your fate? If what I've learned from a zillion sitcoms is true, this could last all day. Worse yet, I have not finished any of the posts I was working on and now you dear reader are screwed and left empty handed. But wait! I wouldn't do that to you! I'm going to leave you with the horrifying chiller PSYCHOPHOBIA! This movie has the worst (meaning best) dubbing you will ever hear and it is sure to make you as happy as a not very terrified clam! Take care, be good and jump over HERE!!

The Prey (1984)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Even though I'm programmed to blindly adore all killer-in-the-woods flicks, I too can decipher the difference between a competent movie and one held together by gum and prayers. THE PREY (1984) ever so slowly leans, if not loiters, towards the latter. Director EDWIN BROWN is clearly hell bent on shaking me off his trail but I won't quit. I keep hanging on. Every time I find myself losing steam and ready to pull the plug he does something so perplexing I must stick around. This is what I love about unpolished, lowbrow movies. When somebody does not know what they are doing, they end up places nobody else would go. There's a scene in which a handsome yet borderline imbecilic park ranger (played by SHAZAM!'s JACKSON BOSTWICK) comes across a corpse being devoured by vultures that just squeals lunacy. The camera shows the ranger, the corpse & the vultures in rotation with screeching blasts of music and it's so puffed up and relentlessly overemphasized that it feels pulled from a comedy sketch. I wouldn't want to miss something like that even though I did require toothpicks to hold my eyelids open by the time that particular bit dropped like a sack of wet laundry.

As adrift and lackadaisical as THE PREY may be, I have to be honest and admit that it also looks exactly like the inside of my mind. When things are peaceful, random furry animals appear and prance around and when things are bad, you get squirming centipedes and army ants eating worms to an alarming doorbell buzzer score. On the film's behalf, around the time I had finished knitting a sleeping bag in my mind to count sheep in, a semi-worthy monster does indeed show up! Eureka! He's played by CAREL STRUYCKEN, "Lurch" of THE ADAMS FAMILY (1991), which is fitting because JACKIE COOGAN, "Uncle Fester" from the original T.V. series can also be found in this movie reluctantly learning to love cucumber sandwiches. The monster's oatmeal ugliness comes courtesy of JOHN CARL BUECHLER and who can resist a lumbering oaf with a giant bumpy head and choking paws? Is he enough to save the film?

Well, no. But THE PREY does close on an effectively ghoulish note and has at least one worthwhile kill. Plus everybody knows this time of year is perfect for its man vs. nature (not to mention mutant wielding an axe) motif. In addition, there's just no denying that it's endearingly good-natured not counting the off-screen rape. For example, the park ranger who I should probably not have found as charismatic as I did, tells a really long, hopelessly unfunny joke to a baby deer in this. A baby deer! I had to watch THE PREY on YouTube so maybe the picture quality hampered my enjoyment a little. I can't believe I'm typing this but I'd actually, God help me, love to try it again cleaned up on DVD if ever the opportunity arose. That makes me sound like a masochist but I'm not-ish. Really what's a little torture in exchange for a few sparkling moments of distinct eccentricity? Lameness abounds but it's so hot this summer that camping via YouTube is not such a bad idea at all. Maybe there's a monster in these woods but at least you won't die from heat stroke! Aw, look! There's a little baby raccoon washing his hands! How cute is that?

Neon Maniacs (1986)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

First off, a heart felt thanks to Josh Gregal of The Ungodly Warlocks Horror Podcast for including NEON MANIACS in his IAHTKY post and spurring me to track it down.

I don't understand a lot of stuff so if I only liked stuff I understood, I wouldn't like much. That's no way to live. What are Neon Maniacs? I have not a clue but I am certain that I am fortunate that they exist at least within the boundaries of this film. From what I can gather they are terrible monsters that want to kill everybody. They all have distinct personalities and I will not be the first to describe them as a cross between cenobites and The Village People. They have one hackneyed weakness that even M. NIGHT SHYAMALAN wouldn't try to get away with except, he did in SIGNS. Yes, water is kryptonite to the Neon Maniacs, which is a dumb idea until you realize they can be fought with squirt guns which is kind of cool. You might want to squirt them fast though because some of them have machine guns. From what I witnessed humans are still way more allergic to bullets than Neon Maniacs are to water so keep that in mind.

Eighties Movies! What is it about them? I refuse to believe their marvelous nature is due to nostalgia and the joy of snickering at past fashion and music tastes alone. That can't be all there is to it! I'm going to loosely claim that eighties movies tend to hit the perfect note of not taking themselves too seriously while still taking themselves seriously enough not to resort to cynicism and condescension. I love that NEON MANIACS has a near GOONIES fuzzy-adventure spirit and yet still wants to decapitate a lady while she's going down on a guy in a park. I guess that's what you'd call an uneven tone but what a way to keep the viewer on their toes. The only consistency is the consistency of inconsistency and if you don't dig what's going down, just wait five minutes and the entire framework of this universe will change. There's plenty of inexplicable ineptitude but that doesn't stop a subway chase scene from being surprisingly energetic and that doesn't stop a phone call from a frantic parent whose child has gone missing from being LYNCH-level eerie.

A hefty reason this movie can get away with shrugging off the concept of communicating something you might understand is that it has a highly likable cast. Their acting skills are a moot point because there is no way anyone can authentically respond to the situations this movie dishes out. LEILANI SARELLE (BASIC INSTINCT) as Natalie, has the steepest hill to climb because she must act like someone who watches all her friends get murdered and then goes to school the next day but only after relaxing in a pool. CLYDE HAYES (Who may be one of the most boring FRIDAY THE 13TH victims ever, see PART 4) mutates from slobbering dork to chivalrous love interest to primping rock star within the space of an hour and somehow makes it work. Speaking of FRIDAY THE 13TH, keep your eyes out for MARTA KOBER who you may remember getting skewered while doing the nasty in F13 PART 2. She's not around nearly enough but her presence is a little extra eighties gravy.

Nobody but nobody steals the show quite like the charming DONNA LOCKE, who portrays confounding uber-scamp Paula. Paula is an amateur filmmaker whose bedroom is decked in horror memorabilia. She enjoys riding her bike through graveyards (causing PHANTASM flashbacks) and sleuthing about like Harriet the Spy. Perhaps her most amazing trait is that she is meant to be around the age of twelve or fourteen while LOCKE the actress is clearly a good decade older than that. Her stunning age reversal is accomplished by wearing a baseball cap jauntily to the side of her head (a Nostromo ALIEN hat no less!). I'm only sad that the director didn't go that extra inch and insist she wear overalls with a slingshot in the back pocket too. Watching Paula interact with her peers, her parents and the "older" teens is as dear as it is bizarre and adds yet another layer of absurdity. LOCKE has appeared to have fallen off the face of the Earth, which is a shame because I would happily watch her in anything.

On the down side, things do end up being wrapped up in a ruefully unsatisfying way which is surely due to mishaps and restrictions behind the scenes. It's not enough to undo the fun that has been had though. I hate to ever throw out the lazy "So bad it's good" line and in fact, I don't think it applies here anyway. NEON MANIACS is too imaginative and spirited to be called "bad." It's more accurate to say that it is a giant mess that never comes together properly. Does that sound like faint enough praise? Truth is, if this movie gelled better it would not be as entertaining, so maybe it found its proper form in the end anyway. Sure, nothing is explained but what possible explanation would suffice? What missing line of dialogue could magically sew this crazy quilt together? Do we really want that missing logic? Is logic worth the drudgery it brings? Not in this case. NEON MANIACS is truly maniacal and it glows with slimy eighties florescence; it fails colossally hard then cluelessly yells,"Ta-dah!" Poor me, I can only color myself a fan and applaud.

Prometheus

Posted on By unkle lancifer

When I was a kid I didn't have any question about whether God existed. We had a picture of him in our family photo album. It was a Polaroid of a large head in shadow looking downward through the camera directly at me. Like any decent religious artifact, it elicited equal parts fear and comfort. Eventually I grew older and my fluffy brain began to gel and harden. Caterpillars stopped being my friends, mice stopped operating my innards and the glowing bats that flew over my bed became reflections of car headlights driving by. Eventually the picture of God transformed into a picture of my Dad. What? Yes, the undeniable truth was that my father had simply held the camera below his head, looked down and took a picture of himself. I had misinterpreted the image on a grand scale; my dumb imagination made up the whole thing. My evidence of God was for shit.

I couldn't help thinking of this disheartening incident while watching RIDLEY SCOTT'S PROMETHEUS. Partially because within the film there exists a giant head that vaguely resembles that old photo and also due to the fact that the movie involves a quest for solid answers that ends in disillusionment. If that were not enough, there are more daddy issues smuggled aboard this ship than a four-year subscription to "Modern Replicant" magazine. A robot is miffed to learn how arbitrary his existence is, one daughter dreams of her dead dad while another wills her pop to croak so she can take over his turf and a molten skinned oldster requests a bigger allowance from a parental being who'd rather deliver a mortal spanking. It's Christmas day and on everybody's wish list is something more substantial than blind faith. There may be answers in PROMETHEUS; they're just unlikely to be the ones we yearn for. As in life, the more you try to focus, the less you see but at some point there is no denying the tentacles.

I saw PROMETHEUS the day it came out, so if this post is late to appear it's only because I was left nearly speechless. Sure, I've talked about it with friends but the idea of cramming the experience into typed words felt untoward. This is a hyper-visual, painterly film and those who gravitate toward dissecting the script and focusing on the narrative alone are missing a great deal. It's commonplace to accuse anything that is this gorgeous of being empty and relying on style over substance but in my mind, that's an insult to the infinite power that an image alone can contain. To be honest I was far too immersed and mesmerized by what was before me to be effected by any of the alleged lapses that apparently yanked others out of the film. Maybe that's just me though, if a character in a movie does something foolish my mind says, "Hey, buddy don't do that, you'll be sorry!" not "I wouldn't do that so therefore this makes no sense." Which isn't to say I have not been highly entertained by the mostly intelligent criticism this movie has inspired, it's just that if you've seen PROMETHEUES and you don't believe that it's destined for classic status all I can say is…that's adorable.

Besides the jaw-droppy, awe inspiring overall design and the thought (and controversy) provoking, open to endless interpretation, storyline, we also get an undeniably for the ages performance by MICHAEL FASSBENDER, that is if you can take your eyes off CHARLIZE THERON for a moment which I admittedly had difficulty doing. Perhaps more importantly for our purposes here, I also can tell you that I found myself wincing my face in gleeful fear on at least two occasions and wading in dense dread on several more. Are there things I wish had been done differently? Yep, I'd say several but I wouldn't trade that for a film created to charm the audience and be forgotten the next day. GUY PEARCE's character reads (and looks) particularly slack in my opinion but I've chosen to play a tiny violin for myself and move on. In other words, count me out of the naysayers club. I'm not simply "choosing to believe" in RIDLEY, I'm choosing to believe that movies don't have to be subservient to audience expectations to be significant. Those who need everything nailed down for them and desire art without blemishes can scamper to the side away from this rousingly erratic masterwork but I'm going to run straight on forward and happily allow it to fall right on top of me. Youch, that feels good!

Final Exam (1981) by Chris Moore

Posted on By Kinderpal Chris Moore

As the final days of my collegiate career dwindle down, it's got me thinking about how I used to perceive college life back when I was a kid. I always assumed, due to my love for college farces and slasher films, that I'd be surrounded by tons of fun loving, big breasted, bubble-headed bleach blondes and beer guzzling, dumb as rocks frat guys on their way to a midlife crisis. Since I go to an art school, there are no sports teams, sororities, or fraternities. I'm a little bitter that I didn't get the authentic college experience. Thankfully, I have a little movie called FINAL EXAM to help me pretend I did.

Ask any slasher film fanatic and they'll tell you that FINAL EXAM is not on the top of their list of great ‘80s slash 'em ups. In fact, it probably rates more towards the bottom of the barrel, right next to EVIL LAUGH and BOARDINGHOUSE. I'll admit it, FINAL EXAM marches to its own (slightly off tempo) drummer and I salute it for that. The film begins with a rather unimaginative murder scene involving two horny co-eds parked on lover's lane and then thrusts us head first into a tension filled exam week at Lanier College, an institution populated by every early ‘80s and slasher film stock character known to man.

We have the smart, bookish, huge haired Courtney (CECILE BAGDADI) stepping in for Laurie Strode (guess she was still recovering from her previous ordeal). Her BFF, Radish (did his parents hate him or what?), played by JOEL S. RICE, spews out factoids about serial killers, all the while, clearly having the hots for Courtney. There's also Courtney's sex kitten roommate, Lisa (DeANNA ROBBINS) and their friend, Janet (the adorable SHERRY WILLIS-BURCH, who you may remember from KILLER PARTY). The real scene stealer is the eternally wasted Wildman (RALPH BROWN) who, I guess, is supposed to be some sort of JOHN BELUSHI in ANIMAL HOUSE clone. He spends the majority of the film drinking beer, shouting, and feasting on anything he can find.

FINAL EXAM takes its sweet time, letting us get to know its colorful cast of characters before starting the carnage around 50 minutes in. It's a risky move – one that most viewers don't seem to care for; however, I always find these characters so fun that I forget I'm in a slasher movie. One of the more memorable (and dated) sequences in the film involves the entire frat staging a fake terrorist attack in the quad just so one of their own can find some time to tamper with his exam. It's gloriously over the top and could never be pulled off today without someone bitching and moaning about it being socially irresponsible.

The killer is always drenched in shadows, but no effort is made to disguise his face. He's bulky and imposing, but never very scary. We never find out who is or why he's doing what he's doing. I have my own theory, but I'm sure you don't want me to bore you with all that nonsense. Still, I sort of like the vague and mysterious quality of the killer's identity (or lack thereof). It's certainly something different from what was going on the glut of other HALLOWEEN clones out around the same time. Also, Radish talks an awful lot about the randomness of serial killers, so perhaps there's more to this particular killer than we really think.

Most cite its lack of anything remotely resembling suspense, scares, or gore as being its downfall, but I find the film oddly refreshing. FINAL EXAM is what I liken to a movie version of comfort food. You know it's not really good for you and has very little nutritional value to offer, but it's like an old friend you just can't say "No" to. It's light on the gore and scares, but I still enjoy it for its quirky characters and am not afraid to say so.

Interestingly enough, FINAL EXAM was shot only an hour or two away from my university in North Carolina. I think that's pretty neat-o (yes, I just used the term "neat-o"). FINAL EXAM was just recently released on a brand new DVD by Scorpion Releasing (who are doing the Lord's work as far as I'm concerned!) Give it a shot!

The Cabin in the Woods: A Second Opinion by Chris Moore.

Posted on By Kinderpal Chris Moore

UNK SEZ: I've been telling anyone who will listen and some who won't that I think CABIN IN THE WOODS is a must see. I know a few folks though who not only did not care for the film but hated it passionately! How could it be? One such person is kinderpal Chris Moore (who I tend to agree with especially when he's singing the praises of MATILDA). I asked Chris if he would write up a post sharing his thoughts on CABIN and he graciously agreed and boy are the gloves off! Take it away Chris! We'll always have MATILDA!

I'm always championing the underdog. Most of my favorites films are those that were bombs, critically loathed, or simply just came out at the wrong time. To put it into perspective, one of my favorites this year was JASON REITMAN and DIABLO CODY's YOUNG ADULT, a film loathed by most of America. I almost always love the original, unique, and avant-garde. Hell, I applaud and enjoy FINAL EXAM for its hour-long collegiate character study as opposed to its slash 'n stalk-y denouement. Also, I have a shockingly high tolerance for crap. From PIECES or TROLL 2 to STV garbage like AX 'EM or the CAMP BLOOD series, I can usually find something worthwhile in anything. All I ever ask for is a little entertainment. Make me laugh, cry, or scream and I'm ready to sing your film's praises right away.

For me, there's nothing worse than a film stuck in the middle of the road. Those are the kinds of films that leave you feeling like you wasted two hours of your life. Even in a typically bad film, there could be something unintentionally hilarious, whether it be an inept line reading, a campy performance, or a delicious lack of understanding of the cinematic language, that makes the viewing experience a little worthwhile.

I'd been hearing about THE CABIN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD (oops, meant WOODS) since its inception a few years back. Being a casual BUFFY watcher, I was certainly curious to see what JOSS WHEDON would come up with. Once the film went into production, it was masked in a veil of secrecy. No one knew anything about the movie. In this day and age, that's quite the feat and I was proud of WHEDON and co. being able to keep a film under wraps like that.

Once the trailer was released, I was underwhelmed. It didn't really interest me very much. It looked predicable and about as dull as the trailer for SHARK NIGHT 3-D (which I still do not plan on seeing. Ever.) Could this really be the film everyone was waiting for?

Then, the reviews came in. All glowing. As horror fans, we don't like to admit it, but we sort of love it when a horror film gets such great reviews. It feels like our beloved genre has finally found acceptance in the mainstream and people finally "get it." Plus, as a hardcore horror fan, I'll usually always go see a new original horror film, foolishly hoping that maybe this will help stop the glut of horrible remakes and over produced, braindead 3-D "epics" from getting the greenlight. Clearly, now, I HAD to see it, so I got a group of my friends together and we sat down, about a week ago, in our local multiplex and…well, something didn't go as planned.

The story of CABIN IN THE WOODS centers around a rather typical assortment of college students going to the titular cabin in a dense forest for a little R&R and God knows what else. For a film that seems to think it's rather unique and original, the characters are cookie cutter as can be (which is the point of the film, but still…), but that's not always a bad thing. Sometimes, it can be fun knowing all the archetypes and what to expect, I mean, there has to be SOME reason why all the FRIDAY THE 13TH films were so successful, right? The problem here is that not many of the characters are very likable or relatable, even in a humorous or satirical way. The film's lead female "virgin" Dana (KRISTEN CONNOLLY) is amiable enough, but the rest of the crew leave a little be desired, especially the token stoner Marty (FRAN KRANZ).

Let me just talk about Marty for a little while, because I truly feel that a lot of what's wrong with this film can be summarized with his character. He's annoying, shrill, un-funny, and doesn't know when to stop. From the first moment he appears on screen, I was eagerly anticipating his death.

Intercut in between all the cliched EVIL DEAD inspired hi-jinx, there's a group of people controlling and supervising what these hormonally challenged 20-somethings say and do? BRADLEY WHITFORD and RICHARD JENKINS, two fantastic actors who I always enjoy watching, play the two leads in this sub-plot, but they have little to work with. Their jokes are painfully unfunny and as interesting as this concept could be, it more often than not, falls flat.

Look, I love humor with my horror. From SCREAM to DRAG ME TO HELL, I enjoy horror comedies if they are done correctly and feel balanced. Even last year's deliciously spooky INSIDIOUS kept me interested and entertained when it went of the rails into WILLIAM CASTLE/camp-ville mid way through. THE CABIN IN THE WOODS feels like a concept concocted through a cloud of pot smoke at a wrap party for one of WHEDON's other shows. It's like walking into a conversation that's already been going on for days and not getting anything the other people are saying. CABIN is the cinematic equivalent of an in-joke.

If there is any humor to be found, it's at the expense of the audience. I don't know about anyone else, but I was a little offended by how rude the humor was to horror fans. They might as well just cut to a shot of WHEDON giving us the finger. It's clear that WHEDON is not the horror fan people think he is. One would think he'd have been at least a little more reverent with his digs at the genre, but, instead, it almost feels as if he's mocking the audience that goes to see this kind of movie by saying "Gah! Don't you know how stupid these movies are?" At least SCREAM's digs at the genre were never at the price of the film itself and were always in good humor.

There is one admittedly hysterical scene mid way through involving our films "hero," a motorcycle, an epic speech, and an unexpected outcome that had me in stitches for a little while, but other than that, the film's humor never landed for me. I got what they were trying to say, but I feel like it's been done so many times now (and WAY better might I add) that it just felt tired.

Also, the film is still going by the same old set of crusty old horror movie "rules" set out by SCREAM almost 20 years ago. The virgin always lives. The jock is a braindead horn dog. The stoner's the wise comedic relief. I feel like, if they were true horror fans, they would have figured this out by now. HE KNOWS YOU'RE ALONE and MY BLOODY VALENTINE both feature heroines who, while mostly kind and sweet, are probably neither virgins. Hell, do we even know if Laurie Strode was really a virgin? Maybe she just had a lot of homework to do and didn't care too much about the dudes. Alice, Ginny, Chris, and Trish from the first four FRIDAY movies were certainly no virgins, either. Where does this stuff come from? Although, honestly, this always bothered me in SCREAM, too.

Some people are telling me the humor isn't supposed to be funny, because it's "satire." I'm all for satire, in fact, it's my favorite kind of humor. HEATHERS, DROP DEAD GORGEOUS, NETWORK, and most of JOHN WATERS' films, are some of my all time favorite movies, but those were actually funny. They at least made me chuckle. I'm not expecting SCARY MOVIE-style slapstick, but c'mon! CABIN, besides said motorcycle speech scene, failed to ever even make me so much as grin during it's hour and a half run time.

So, if it's not funny, is it at least scary? Far from it. In fact, I believe a four-year-old could take this movie. Without scares or laughs, what am I supposed to make of this movie? It's middle of the road. It's just there. I'm not worse for wear after watching it, but I'm not going to remember it in a few weeks either. Even a surprising (if useless) last minute cameo by a member of horror/sci-fi royalty in the middle of the horrendously bad CGI fest of an ending that even the SyFy Channel would disown (hope that's not what took them so long to get this released) can't save it from "been there, done that" syndrome. It just felt like a waste of time.

By my (admittedly low) standards, the film fails. It didn't make me laugh, cry, or scream.

I'm already aware that most people will say that "I just didn't get it!" and I'm prepared to take the heat. There are always a few movies every year that a lot of people love that I don't get. AVATAR and PARANORMAL ACTIVITY are the most recent examples. So, I don't understand what the big deal is about them, but if you enjoy them, that's all that matters.

My friend, Nina, who saw the film with me (we both loathed it) put it best. She said it was like a "hipster horror film." The more I think about it, the more I realize she's right. God knows those goobers love their irony. All the people praising the film seem to take pride in the fact that they somehow cracked the code and feel smarter than everyone else. Sorry, but there is no code to crack. A bad movie is just a bad movie, folks. OR maybe I'm just not "sophisticated" enough to get it. You guys be the judge.