kindertrauma

Category: General Horror

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.

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.