kindertrauma

Category: General Horror

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.

The Cabin in the Woods

Posted on By unkle lancifer

I got so busy this past weekend I forgot to tell you all about my successful, highly NON-disappointing excursion to see THE CABIN IN THE WOODS. I feel like it might almost be too late as you've probably heard the good news elsewhere but if I can convince one fence-sitter to go and check it out, then I'd like to give it a shot. Trouble is, if ever there was a movie you should know little or nothing about before seeing it, it's this one. So how can I persuade you without wrecking the whole thing? I went twice. Does that work? As soon as the movie was over I checked when the next show time was and then I saw it again. Now, would I do that for a terrible movie? Frankly, yes I would, but you're missing my point, I had to see THE CABIN IN THE WOODS twice because once was not enough to fully process its wonder. I can't wait to own this movie because I need to pause it on a couple scenes and nibble every single pixel. I want to watch it with close captioning so that no word can elude me. AMY ACKER is in this. I love her.

So yeah, I may have a bit of a raging predisposition for CABIN too. The sad truth is that for years, while secretly mocking the world's religions, I have also been hypocritically praying in the temple of JOSS WHEDON. I try to keep a lid on it. I know how it must sound but in the wee hours of the night when nobody's around, I'm watching a BUFFY episode for the gazillionth time and experiencing euphoric highs while weeping and speaking in tongues. JOSS WHEDON's face once appeared to me on an Eggo waffle. Ok that's not true but it's sort of basically true-ish. THE CABIN IN THE WOODS, which WHEDON co-wrote with director DREW GODDARD (who also penned some of my favorite BUFFY episodes), justifies my reverence and is an accumulation of the type of genre smudging and creative cajoles that ignited my zealotry. This sermon is only an hour and a half rather than seven years so jump on the express train to glory my brothers and sisters. Halleluiah!

Also while you are in church shut up. You're there to listen and observe not to try to figure it out before other people do or ponder the differences between what you thought it might be and what it is. Every horror fan should see this but those who bemoan sequels and remakes and wail for originality should be forced to see it at gunpoint. Be glad I'm not in charge because each ticket would also come with a mandatory ball gag. As a courtesy, I will soften expectations by saying this is not the type of thing you endure and then boast to your friends that it didn't faze you because you're so cool. It's not trying to impress you with hackneyed depravity; it's more of a boundary butcher that gets off on how limitlessly imaginative the genre could be if we stopped giving people what they want and start giving them what they need. CABIN is no way the be-all end-all. I enjoy many flavors to choose from and I'm not convinced that the rules and tropes it subverts need be fully abandoned. Still, in my eyes, this movie craftily climbs to a peak position where it can both revel in where horror has been and scout out the infinite possibilities ahead. Every New Testament should be this much fun.

Once, Then & Now :: Mickster on Buried Alive (1990)

Posted on By kinderpal mickster

ONCE
I first watched BURIED ALIVE on USA back in 1990. I was still living at home and just starting college. Although I had not yet felt the sting of betrayal in a relationship, I immediately identified with the character Clint (TIM MATHESON). Clint is a hardworking and faithful husband. I have always been a rule-follower in my life, so I have issues with people who do not follow the rules. For that reason, I disliked the characters Joanna (JENNIFER JASON LEIGH) and Cort (WILLIAM "No Dick" ATHERTON– GHOSTBUSTERS). I cheered for Clint as he meticulously exacted revenge against his plotting wife and her lover. I also fussed at Joanna over the numerous dumb moves she made along the way (i.e., not giving Clint the full amount of fishy poison in his wine, skipping the embalming, and racing to sell his business and home). Overall, nineteen-year-old Mickster found the movie entertaining and the ending satisfying.

THEN
I was excited when I found of copy of BURIED ALIVE at Monster Mania in early June 2011. I had not seen it since 1990 and as far as I knew, it had not been released on DVD. Before I had a chance to enjoy it though life dealt me a devastating blow. Having discovered my ex-spouse had also been unfaithful, I now had more in common with Clint than I did when I watched the movie before. In late July, I managed to make myself watch it again and it made my blood boil. In fact, it was almost too much for me to take at that point. I sat down and started to write about the movie…

"I can relate to Clint Goodman's plight. I feel his pain at being screwed over by the person who is supposed to care the most in his life. Clint is a ‘good man' who loves his wife and wants nothing more than to build a long-lasting life with her. He has built her a beautiful country home and has a successful contracting company. When his wife says that she is going into the city overnight to shop and hangout with her girlfriends, Clint believes her without question. Clint's wife, however, is a lying, scheming whore with nefarious plans for her good and trusting husband."

Clearly forty-year-old Mickster was pissed off and a bit too close to the subject matter. Unkle Lancifer, being the sweetheart he is, suggested I walk away from writing about the film while my feelings were so raw. I agreed and pushed it aside until now.

NOW
I am now ready to revisit my old friend, BURIED ALIVE. It serves as a stark reminder of the thin line between love and hate. Although I still side with Clint throughout the movie, I have to point out some things he should have recognized, as I have had to do the same in my own life. It is clear to anyone watching the film that Joanna is not into her husband or the life he is trying desperately to build with her. Clint, like many of us in disintegrating relationships, is too busy trying to make this life work to see the problems before him. He assumes that because he is faithful and kind that his wife is too. This was an enormous mistake on Clint's part, which almost cost him his life. Even his loyal Rottweiler recognizes what a fraud his wife is. Animals are wise in these matters and can sense a phony quickly. (Note to my sweet kitty Professor Von Whiskersen, I should have noticed your reactions to the ex. I will trust your judgment from now on.)

When Clint wakes up in a coffin, digs his way out, and stumbles home, he is floored by what he discovers. Clint's deep love quickly turns to bitter hatred and he plans his revenge. Even though Joanna and her scheming lover richly deserve this revenge, I feel that ultimately Clint would be unable to bear his actions since he is at heart loving and kind.

A lot can change in the way you view a film. Twenty-two years ago, Mickster was simply entertained. Nine months ago, Mickster was most definitely outraged. Now, Mickster is older, wiser, and thankfully calmer. I know it is only a movie, but I wish Clint had given himself the time to think things through more clearly. People like Joanna and Cort will ultimately destroy themselves with their selfishness. Clint could have watched this happen from the sidelines without soiling his own hands in the process.

Just Before Dawn (1981)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

JUST BEFORE DAWN is sort of like your run of the mill, early eighties killer in the woods flick except it's not because it's so fantastic and pretty. The set-up is as familiar as the sun and in my case, just as necessary. A camper filled with young folks in skimpy attire heads to the mountains blasting BLONDIE's HEART OF GLASS. Various oldsters warn the group to scram if they value their lives and, thankfully for me, they truck on. Familiar ground rarely looks this good and there are enough idiosyncratic flourishes to insure that the viewer isn't quite as sure they've seen this all before as they originally thought. Nobody wears a mask in JUST BEFORE DAWN because nobody needs to. Our killer here is often brazenly center stage; a lumbering, drooling hillbilly clown who's not afraid of daylight or accessorizing with fluorescent orange. Scampering behind trees and fading into waterfalls, this grimacing goon is straight out of Looney Tunes territory. He's a mountain of Elmer Fudd and he's everywhere at once.

If you give me some GEORGE KENNEDY we're good; you don't need to supply me with anything more. JUST BEFORE DAWN though, insists upon stuffing my semi-celebrity swag bag to overflow with a highly agreeable cast. Constant DePALMA co- cohort GREGG HENRY is present in an early role, as is RALPH SEYMOUR (KILLER PARTY, PEE WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE), CHRIS LEMMON (WISHMASTER), JAMIE ROSE (PLAYROOM) and MIKE KELLIN of SLEEPAWAY CAMP fame. Final girl honors go to DEBORAH BENSON who learns the value of being proactive, wearing make-up and choking somebody with your fist in swift order. Her method of monster disposal may produce the oddest kill in slasher history (it's almost an answer to Ash's porn mag attack on Ripley in ALIEN) and there's a nifty gender role switcheroo within the film's denouement that lingers like the dying campfire smoke that frames it.

Most importantly, JBD has several stylin' slash-happy set pieces that include but are not limited to: a suspenseful rope bridge standoff, a graveyard mix up involving a Velma-esque optical predicament, and a sexy underwater salute to THE HAUNTING's "Whose hand was I holding?" routine. Plus have you ever seen a lady climb up a tree only to have a hillbilly chop down said tree with a machete? You should.

Director JEFF LIEBERMAN wears a diamond-studded king's crown in my head because he not only made this baby but also the super fun SQUIRM and the phenomenal BLUE SUNSINE too. JUST BEFORE DAWN may not explode with originality in the story department and I thank it for that. Why build a brand new house when you can simply redecorate? The atmosphere is singular here and LIEBERMAN is almost working in black and white with green substituting as white and shocking orange stepping in for black. The simple but dramatic visuals married with the great BRAD (FRIGHT NIGHT) FIEDEL's eerie, ominous score create an almost alien planet climate out of the Oregon woods in which this was filmed. I doubt everything intended was accomplished, several ideas feel dropped and left behind like burdensome backpacks but what we're left is my cup of tea and then some. I wouldn't complain if Mr. KENNEDY had more to do but I can't begrudge the guy some well earned paid recreational horseback riding. If you like the woods and you like horror then this is the perfect place to be and if you dig humongous hillbillies with machetes, you'll find JUST BEFORE DAWN the perfect time.

Don't Go In The House (1980)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

ONCE
I wasn't sure I wanted to catch DON'T GO IN THE HOUSE. When I was around 13, my best friend was taken to see it by his father and the tale he returned with rattled me. I was immersed in horror films at the time but DON'T, at least as my friend described it, sounded like it was on the deeper end of the pool than I was familiar with. It was about a guy who lived in a house (that you'd better not go into), who captured women, tied them up in a metal room and then burned them alive with a flamethrower. What?! Why would anyone want to do that?! Listening to my pal's war story was thrilling but worrisome. He talked as if he was lucky to make it out of the theater alive himself. The movie he made in my head was close enough. DON'T didn't sound like much fun and being tied up and burned alive sounded way crueler than a nice quick axe to the head. I wasn't ready to go into this particular house. I wasn't even all that tempted…yet.

THEN
A bunch of years passed and I (wrongly) believed I had exhausted every 1980s horror flick I could. Obviously it was high time I took the plunge and went inside that darned house my friend had told me about. Even if the film did not live up to my nervous expectations, I'd have a decent time visiting the dark shadow it once cast in my head. I ended up appreciating the movie a lot more than I expected. I found the depravity I bargained for and the lead actor was sympathetic enough to carry me through. I suppose there is a misogynistic element skulking about but such is the price you pay for free range horror. I missed DON'T in its heyday and I missed it in its awkward years too. By this point it captured a specific valued bubble of time. Friendly disco music and a weirdly effective undercurrent of melancholy balanced out whatever sleazy behavior it indulged in. The house itself is my favorite type of authentic location you only seem to find in low budget films. The awesome icing on the cake is DGITH's awkward dubbing. The original soundtrack was unusable so everything had to be re-dubbed later which adds something as off-putting as it is endearing. Background characters jabber hilariously and incidental dialogue jumps to the forefront. It's wrong but I love it.

NOW
Watching the film a second time I find myself even more taken. The psycho killer with mommy issues routine is nothing rare but the unscalable wall of alienation maniac Donny Kohler bangs up against is not limited to his history or home. He's harangued at work, his competency is perpetually up for debate and every time he tries to connect with a lone ally, some snide comment questioning his sexuality is made. Donny's abusive past (his mother tried to burn the sin out of him) would be enough to unhinge anyone but the consistent debasement he receives in the ugly universe he inhabits is just as destructive. (Okay maybe he shouldn't have thrown that lit candle holder at that pushy girl's head at the disco but it's not as if he wasn't perfectly clear about not wanting to dance.) In the end Donny's last victim is not a woman but a priest who has failed him and there's an epilogue that suggests that the evil we've witnessed is not limited to Donny's twisted mind. In the messed up world of DGOTH it seems every kid we encounter from extras on the street to the children of Donny's friend are victims of hostility and the voices that haunted Donny are ready to "help" them ("the weak and the wounded" to borrow from SESSION 9) too. Sure, the "evil finds a new host" epilogue may be cliché but it strikes a truth about the fallout of abuse.

DON'T ends up being my favorite type of movie. It can be seen as crude and humorous on one level but on the other hand there's something hard to shake creepy about it too. The old house, with its bizarre angles and funky furniture and the sudden flashes of Donny's white-haired, blue-skinned, scarecrow of a dead mother give it some timeless gothic flavor while the music, fashion and unrepentant violence speak specifically of its own era. I also really like the performance of the main actor DAN GRIMALDI. I think he's really interesting in this and I'm not surprised he went on to other things including playing twins on THE SOPRANOS. I can't really say this movie ends up being as scary and as effective as the movie that my pal constructed in my head long ago but it does have a better soundtrack and I have a feeling it's only just begun to speak to me.

Straight on Till Morning (1972)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

I've got a fondness for movies in which characters build a doomed cocoon against the outside world. I'm thinking THE LITTLE GIRL WHO LIVES DOWN THE LANE, SECRET CEREMONY, and now STRAIGHT ON TILL MORNING. I know it never ends well but there's inevitably an eye of the hurricane moment of serenity where I want to stay and set up camp. Sometimes these cocoons involve two people connecting and sometimes it's just one person building a shelter against the hurricane of psychosis (PIN, BAD RONALD, and REFLECTION OF FEAR). Either way something about these precariously built nests strikes a nerve. Maybe it's due to my family moving a lot when I was little. I remember wanting to be a beaver or a turtle because they both had homes. While my brothers drew racing cars, I drove the interiors of vans. It's beyond simply having a nice place to hang out in and a roof overhead. The most important thing is that not everyone is invited and different rules apply.

Brenda Thompson (RITA TUSHINGHAM) is a skittish, mousy type who leaves her mother behind to brave an ultra-groovy, early seventies era London. Her head is stuffed with fairy tales of her own invention and she's looking for a prince to share in her delusions. She finds a cool job but doesn't quite fit in and after being overlooked in favor of her prettier roommate, she stalks the streets until she finds an abandoned dog. The dog's owner is Peter (SHANE BRIANT of DEMONS OF THE MIND) and once Brenda gets a gander at him, she kidnaps the dog so she can return it and play hero later. Unlike Brenda, Peter was not born yesterday and instead of being pissed at her deception, he invites her to live with him. Peter is not a prince so much as a gigolo serial killer who regularly slashes up his benefactors. Because he believes he is only valued for his looks, he hates anything beautiful. If you are pretty, he will cut you up with a box cutter and record the whole thing.

Obviously this relationship can never work out and things are going to go south real soon. Be that as it may, for a while there, these two kooky kids almost have it all. Brenda changes her name to Wendy and they hang out in a really excellent apartment sitting on the floor inventing and recording fairy tales. And check out that Peter Pan reference! There's Wendy and Peter and the dog's name is even "Tinker"! All that needs to happen is Wendy must not discover that said dog has been murdered for wearing a nice bow on its head and that Peter screwed and killed her ex-roommate. She also must never go to the room upstairs, always clean up after him and never try to look too pretty because that will drive him completely insane. Unfortunately, one day Wendy decides to get a new hairdo and well, everything unravels.

STRAIGHT ON TILL MORNING is an unlikely HAMMER film directed by PETER COLLINSON the same guy who did that FRIGHT movie I recently reviewed (although he's best remembered for THE BANK JOB.) It's got a bunch of severe funky edits, some spooky voiceovers and it bounces around in time a great deal. Some will certainly find it as annoying as I found it fascinating. It's also got a cameo and a theme song from ANNIE ROSS of BASKETCASE 2&3 and WITCHERY fame and that's nothing to sneeze at either. Even if you don't care for the story or the frustrating characters, I think I'd have to recommend this one for the time period alone; the London shown here has got to be seen to be believed. It's a shame about what befalls poor head in the clouds Brenda/Wendy but at least she got to learn the lesson (albeit too late) that life is no fairy tale in such killer covet-worthy digs.

Vigilante (1983)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

I was going to kick myself for not watching WILLIAM (MANIAC) LUSTIG's VIGILANTE (1983) sooner but I decided to thank the universe for waiting for the exact perfect circumstances to lift the curtain on this prize instead. Don't sweat the plot- it's about a guy who believes in the law until justice flips him the bird after his life is demolished, who then decides to take matters into his own hands. Things explode and bad, bad people die in ways they really deserve. See, this is why I can't get worked up about remakes and sequels; multiple interpretations of the same potent theme are the lifeblood of genre filmmaking. You know this place even if you haven't been here before.

Two major factors catapult VIGILANTE over its peers. It's got a fantastic cast, ROBERT FORSTER, CAROL LYNLEY, FRED WILLIAMSON, JOE SPINELL and RUTANYA ALDA (she of AMITYVILLE II and no relation to ALAN-drats!) and a super talented sinfully underrated director. LUSTIG may have a habit of delivering semi-unsatisfactory climaxes but the road to that minor disappointment is paved with major brilliance. He certainly knows how to engage the audience with his characters and he excels at keeping you on edge worried about how far he'll go next. What's more, I have to hand it to LUSTIG for his striking and yet never overpowering visual sense. Is it just me? I love his use of color and his penchant for finding strange fluorescent beauty in the blandest of areas. It can't be accidental, amidst jaw-dropping violence there's something about VIGILANTE (and MANIAC) that feels like unearthing stray blazing rubies in piles of grey gravel. I'll throw down some images below but I think that analogy applies to how LUSTIG's films operate as a whole too. The world may be hopeless, grim and falling apart but if you look close there's always something shining in the wreckage.

Fright (1971)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

A bunch of years ago I remember having a used DVD copy of FRIGHT in my hands all ready to buy when a friend I was with pulled one of those, "Oh, I've seen that" sourpuss, "Meh" routines. Dummy me dropped it from my purchase pile. I suppose my pal had a point; FRIGHT is nothing extraordinary but certainly this person should have known me well enough to realize that a babysitter, an old dark house and an escaped maniac would be more than enough to warrant a viewing. So what if I'd seen this song and dance before? Familiarity may breed contempt for others but for me, it breeds contentment. Plus, I now realize that FRIGHT predates the films that drove the concept into the ground. That's gotta count for something. If that friend knew me at all they would have said, "It's from the early seventies-you'll love it!" but looking back I believe the only real information I was meant to take away was that so-and-so had seen this film before me. Big whoop. Here's an oversized stuff animal prize.

FRIGHT is of its time and may frustrate modern viewers especially those who expect characters to act as they (theoretically) would and get incensed when they don't do the exact smartest thing in every possible situation. Our babysitter Amanda (SUSAN GEORGE) does some seriously boneheaded things in FRIGHT and she cries and screeches a lot too. If the film was made today, I'm sure she'd be depicted in a much stronger, more valiant way but I'm going to give her some leeway as she's just a kid and a maniac is trying to kill her. Why not scream and cry? Is there a better time for such a response? Oh yeah and her boyfriend kicks the bucket right in front of her face! That might upset a person.

I know I'm an apologist but critiquing a character's response to a violent situation, to me, is sort of like a friend telling you they've been mugged and you're like, "Did you punch them in the face? Did you grab the gun away? Why not, what's wrong with you?" Everything is easy from the sidelines and everybody thinks they're boss until they're not. Truth is, you really don't know until it happens to you. When real fear comes a knocking all bets are off, the world is upside down and a truckload of kooky chemicals are poured into your brain. You might have a hard time remembering your own name let alone be expected to suddenly morph into an expert at guerilla warfare. Amanda's not alone in the questionable decision making department either. Nearly every character here, including the police, reacts in ways that are unbelievable by today's standards. In the end though, all the reactions present are more likely then say, Bigfoot so if I can believe in Bigfoot, I can believe in this. He's out there!

All in all, I'd say FRIGHT is very much worth hurdling over its hokey chasms. If you blur your eyes to a few glitches it's a beautifully shot, cleverly edited, atmospheric suspense film that must have had some kind of influence on HALLOWEEN. Whether the resemblance is coincidental or not, I'd say it plays like a precursor to that film even more so than the often-sited BLACK CHRISTMAS does. Although not gory or gruesome, the potential for something truly horrific to occur is intensely strong in certain scenes. The child in peril business is particularly off-putting and something I'm sure you'd be unlikely to see attempted today. The little tyke in this, TARA COLLINSON, is actually the director's son, which makes the situations he's thrown into a little bit easier to condone. There's a bushel of hammy dialogue on hand but the performances are uniformly above par. IAN BANNON as the escaped lunatic nearly goes over the top but there's something convincing about his wild scattered energy too.

I should have bought this movie way back when, as now the price seems to have jumped. Sheez, you'd think that getting to see HONOR (Pussy Galore) BLACKMAN who plays the mom getting her groove on at the local restaurant would be enough for some people! Yep, it could have been better but it deserves more than a shrug too. That, or I just love babysitter vs. maniac movies. In any case, there are worse things in life than hanging with SUSAN GEORGE in a dark mansion for an hour and a half, even if she is a little screechy.