kindertrauma

Category: General Horror

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.

Leprechaun's Revenge

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Happy Saint Patrick's Day kids! Do not go outside tonight the streets will be filled with drunks! Instead, put on something green and stay indoors and watch the SYFY channel! Tonight they are premiering a brand new horror flick inspired by the holiday entitled LEPRECHAUN'S REVENGE! What makes this movie so promising is the fact that the one and only DREW DAYWALT directed it. Drew has directed many a fine horror short including the perennial "The Easter Bunny is Eating My Candy!" and "There's No Such Thing!" which actually happens to be dedicated to Kindertrauma! (You can even read a traumafession from good ol' Drew HERE!)

With DAYWALT pulling the strings, LEPRECHAUN'S REVENGE is sure to be monstrous good fun so make sure you catch it. Go buy some beer and prepare. SYFY is even going to show the first three unrelated WARWICK DAVIS LEPRECHAUN flicks so that you can make a night out of it! Check out the teaser trailer for DREW'S flick below and remember it premiers at nine. Don't miss it! It's sure to sham-rock!

Nightmare (1981)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

I enjoyed looking back at how my perception of MANIAC changed over the years so here I am doing the same thing with the like-minded NIGHTMARE…

ONCE (1981-ish)

One of my favorite things as a young teen was trying to keep my eyes open long enough to watch SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE which, way back then, was followed by a show I enjoyed even more, SECOND CITY TV. SNL's East Coast start time of 11:30 might as well have been 5 in the morning to me and I typically failed to remain awake. Luckily a mad scientist invented the VCR, which allowed me to tape both shows overnight and catch them the next morning over Apple Jacks. This is how I first came across the movie NIGHTMARE, one of my late night videotape fishing trips had hauled in a short TV spot for it. I remember the commercial being brief and simply showing a masked madman bashing down a door but it impacted me greatly. I rewound the ad a multitude of times, finding it more and more unsettling upon each view. The movie that I began to imagine in my head was brilliant and epic and what an injustice it was that I was too young to see it. I'd have to wait for video and so I did.

I almost didn't recognize NIGHTMARE when I bumped into it at the video kiosk at the mall. The poster image of a screaming face I had become familiar with thanks to a newspaper clipping was abandoned in exchange for a mundane film still. Not that there was any debate about whether I should proceed with my rental, the videobox was of the over-sized variety and presented by a company called Continental, a seal of approval of sorts that I did not take lightly. When had Continental let me down before? Well, lots of times but whatever. My first viewing of NIGHTMARE ended up being, for the most part, disappointing. The movie was successful in both grossing and weirding me out but it was sloppy and crass and completely devoid of the magical element that existing only in my head. The door-smash scene from the TV spot was still scary but by the time it showed up in the film, I had already been alienated by scenes of rampant sexual dysfunction. Well, it wasn't HALLOWEEN that was for sure; around this time in the early ‘80s I was finding out that sad fact about a lot of movies.

THEN (1994-ish)

Instead of disappearing into oblivion, NIGHTMARE kept coming back. Its reputation was kept afloat by the fact that it was banned in the UK and the surrounding controversy about whether or not TOM SAVINI had any hand in the special effects. All I knew was that it was one of the more f-ed up movies I could recall from my youth and all of the sudden, I couldn't find it anywhere. Even though it had let me down before NIGHTMARE began to expand once more in my brain. I had to see it again! I had to show it to my friends! A bootleg was the only answer! Well hey, this was before the Internet and to me, a VHS copy of a copy of a copy of a copy was about as criminally malicious as a mix tape. I can't say my fuzz-blur pirate edition of NIGHTMARE (labeled "NIGHTMARE IN A DAMAGED BRAIN") revealed any new insight or level of quality to me. It was all just as shabby and crude as I recalled but now it had an heir of the forbidden and the tactless, trashy counter-bourgeois beat it bounced to had a value all its own. This is when the unintentional humor began to bleed in and I began to agree with just how disagreeable it was.

NOW (2012)

I knew I had to get the DVD of NIGHTMARE as soon as it was (finally) available. Honestly I would have purchased it for the cover alone since it features the original poster art that so intrigued me long ago. The picture looks fine but happily not too fine, its worn weathered texture adding salty flavor to the tone. These days there is no question that I am fond of NIGHTMARE. It somehow ended up teaching me how to view a certain type of movie in a different way. It also turns out that I sometimes require more than mere technical finesse in a film. Just as certain bands proved being a virtuoso musician was not essential to make vibrant music, NIGHTMARE makes me realize that in the case of some movies, it's the untamed energy that trumps all. The plot may be threadbare and the characters may be methodically intolerable but NIGHTMARE's unstable and unruly attitude has bite and there's a steadfast grim and hopeless element present that's daunting. Somewhere along the line NIGHTMARE and I fused together. Watching it now, I feel like I'm seeing foggy old scratched up home movies of my own childhood. Like MANIAC, NIGHTMARE opened a door that allowed me to see past the easy to deride surface of a low budget film. It expanded the range of my taste and allowed me access to other films that I might have passed by. I guess it could have been done in a better, more sophisticated way but its raggedness is a large part of its messed up appeal. Yep, it disappointed me at first but looking back, that's because I was trying to will it to be what I wanted it to be rather than being receptive to what it actually was. I'll let more discriminating minds than my own decree whether it's "good" or not. I'm happy simply knowing this scrappy nihilistic exploitation flick ended up mattering much more to me than I initially thought it would.

Horror at The Oscars!

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Exactly twenty years ago (give or take a month- March 30, 1992) a horror film called SILENCE OF THE LAMBS made mincemeat of the Academy Awards. It devoured all of the major categories, a feat achieved only twice before (by IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT and ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST.) Some folks are a little hesitant about slapping the horror label on SILENCE, so let me do it for them and without pause. It seems the more accomplished a movie is, the more likely some are to address it as a "psychological thriller" and nothing gets my non-silent goat more. JONATHAN DEMME's film is certainly rich and expansive enough to elude simple stagnant classification but, at the end of the day, without the element of horror, it has no bones to stand. Let me ask you, if somebody showed up to your Oscar party wearing clothes made of human skin and a mask constructed of another person's torn off face would you think their outfit was horrifying or thrilling? Exactly. SILENCE OF THE LAMBS is horror.

Crikey, if SILENCE isn't horror then what is? Besides the already mentioned body mutilation, violence and death, SILENCE straps on a diving helmet and plunges into the less easily defined depths of the pit. Yeah, there's some nifty crime & mystery stuff going on and Clarice's ascension past those who underestimate her is immensely gratifying, but her anguish and regret over not being able to save an animal she meant to protect from slaughter is the real spirit crushing agent of darkness here. We come to find out Clarice is haunted by past events and I think that emotional/spiritual horror is a sharper more persistent blade. For instance, I have a Facebook page and many of my pals are horror fans, so I'm pretty much besieged with images of "horror" everyday: zombies, vamps, decapitations, the usual snore parade. Every once in a while somebody will post a picture of an animal being harmed under a title like "Stop this!" and I know they are trying to do the right thing but it's like throwing battery acid in my eyes and it makes my soul barf for humanity. Meaning, I'm not convinced the lambs of the title will ever be silenced. That's horror.

I get the drift of those that say SILENCE is not horror. I understand their logic and points and politely chuck those ideas towards the dustbin in my head. This is more than an issue of semantics for me. Can I just keep this one victorious memory intact and unmolested by those who live to rain on my parade? When SILENCE won that night twenty years ago, in my mind, the entire horror genre won and more importantly (to me) so did I. It seemed that finally something I cared about was getting some respect. (It did not hurt that just the year before KATHY BATES wrangled a best actress award for MISERY too.) I had grown up watching the movies that I dug utterly disrespected and devalued and frankly, I was sick of it. In 1992 it seemed like the world was catching up to what I already knew. I started to imagine a future where I didn't have to add an extra star or up the letter grade to every review of a horror film I read in order to make up for the preexisting prejudice. I'm sad to tell you, I'm still waiting for that day.

Maybe I'm OK with that. Some art forms are born to walk the fringes. I don't expect everyone to like horror films but I do believe they deserve to be judged fairly rather than automatically dismissed because some find their subject matter distasteful. Really though, how can anyone expect horror as a genre to emerge from the ghetto when those who claim to be its biggest supporters are the very ones who most vehemently rip the movies themselves to shreds? If you want to read a truly venomous take on a horror film, your best bet is a horror fan site, a place where boycotting movies that are not filmed yet, burning directors at the stake and tearing apart nearly everything that comes down the pike save for a few worn out sacred cows are a matter of course; with fans like these, who needs enemies? That's coming from a gay guy who twenty years ago was still firmly in the closet at a gay friendly Oscar party when SILENCE OF THE LAMBS won. Nothing drags a movement down like the naysaying, doubting Thomases from within. Tonight I'll be at another Oscar party but this time not as a self-sabotaging malcontent. Maybe the world of horror hasn't progressed as much as I would have liked in the past two decades but I have. I'm seriously going to toast SILENCE OF THE LAMBS 20TH anniversary win tonight and I'll do it as a loud, proud devoted fan of horror…get used to it.

Maniac (1980)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

The other day I came across an article in which the author was wondering if there might be anything to gain from watching a movie more than once. I would have read it but I had better things to do, like watch a movie that I had seen before. I've viewed MANIAC (1980) way more than three times over the years but here is a list of three significantly different experiences that I've had with the exact same WILLIAM LUSTIG film.

ONCE (1981-ish)

This movie is horrifying. It's like watching a catastrophe unfold while laying helplessly in a coma. Is it X-rated? Are there brakes on this VHS player? MANIAC is basically steamrolling over me. I'm no stranger to slasher flicks but this is something different. There is a wild seedy energy and seemingly no moral code. How can things go back to normal in this MANIAC universe when they were so fucked up and feral to begin with? There is no sweet final girl to chill with. CAROLINE MUNRO's character Anna has come to the party tardy and it's too late- I'm already trapped within crazy Frank Zito's twisted, unpredictable brain…I was later to see things differently but I remember being completely repulsed by JOE SPINELL when I first took in MANIAC. He was like an unhinged, quivering mass of whiney, sweaty corruption. I wasn't such a wilting flower that I could not see that the special effects were incredibly awesome (I rewound SAVINI blowing his own brains out a few times) buy the overall undiluted sleaze on display turned my stomach. I was never going to live in the city…ever! People must be nuts to live there! I decided to hang the poster on my wall just to let people know that I walked through this perverted subway tunnel and made it out alive. Boy, did I think Zito's living space was creepy.

THEN (1994-ish)

My best friend got a laserdisc player! He also bought a laserdisc of MANIAC! You don't understand, the picture and sound quality is way better than VHS and it's even in its proper aspect ratio! It's like seeing it in the theater and for the first time! Wow, I totally recognize that porn star! "Going to a Showdown" has got to be the best song ever! Haha. This is so retro eighties. I should move to New York. I've always wanted to live there! At this point MANIAC is the ultimate midnight cult movie, so much decadent fun. Did I just laugh my way through a film that once pummeled me in the face? I was later to see things differently but I remember thinking JOE SPINELL was some kind of clown genius. He was so charming with his funny voices and suddenly it wasn't so crazy to me that CAROLINE MUNRO would go on a date with him. Who wouldn't, he's a card! I thought I'd buy a MANIAC t-shirt so folks understood how edgy I am. This movie is a hoot! Rewind that head explosion again! Awesome moustache SAVINI! Boy did I think Zito's living space was cool.

NOW– (2012ish)

MANIAC is so deep. How sad it all is. I should probably spring for the Blu-ray. My old DVD looks better in the PS3 than that slightly more bleached out version on Netflix Streaming. Did people really think MANIAC was misogynistic? Get a grip. This poor guy is sick. He needs help. His mother abused him and he can't get over the feeling of abandonment spurred by her death. He wants to freeze time so things don't change. He thinks by killing these women he can somehow keep them with him forever. There really are serial killers like that! MANIAC is smart and serious. Look at New York; I'm so glad I never moved there. I think I could marry JOE SPINELL. He may not be the best actor in the world, but he's so committed and sincere. It's so sad he's dead and that he never got to do the MANIAC sequel he wanted to. I'm totally ordering THE LAST HORROR SHOW from Amazon; I have not seen that in a while and I love it. They're going to do a remake of MANIAC? How are they going to do that? You know what? I think JOE would really like that idea. They probably would have invited him to the premiere and he would have been so proud. Man, it's so depressing how things change and time moves on but I guess you gotta go with the flow. That's really what MANIAC is about after all. It's not just some gross decadent special effects showcase; it's not some nostalgic freak show to watch while drunk. People think they can buy the poster or the T-shirt of this movie and that means that they "get it" but they don't, not really. It's really very poignant. Boy does Zito's living space look like my own.

OK maybe I was exaggerating for effect and poking fun at myself in that last one but you get the idea. I guess what I'm saying to the guy whose article I was too busy to read is, YES you should watch a movie more than once! You're sure to pick up stuff you missed and perhaps larger themes will become apparent. More importantly the movie may not change but YOU sure as hell will. Truth is, young me was right, MANIAC is frickin' scary and not so young me was right, it is oddly funny and poor now me is right too- it is tragic and melancholy too. I look forward to finding out what older me thinks. Movies can capture a certain time or place but they are never truly frozen because each time we visit them, they come alive again and take different forms. If they were mannequins, they'd be the kind that come alive and throttle you… even if only in your head.

Frank Zito: People die. But in a picture or painting, they're yours forever.

Anna D'Antoni: There's no way you can possess someone forever. Even in a photograph, there's no way.

Hell Night (1981)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

HELL NIGHT (1981) is shamefully underrated and I wonder what kind of drugs you'd have to be on to not see how superior it is to the films it's usually lumped with. It's often painted as a HALLOWEEN also-ran but it does so much to distinguish itself from the fly by nights of its day that it should be considered a classic in its own right. The set –up is certainly simple but the execution is remarkable. It has a structure all its own and the cinematography, the direction and the score severely surpass what it's given credit for. I can understand that its lack of T&A and gore could have left young audiences back in ‘81 feeling disgruntled, but its multitude of other attributes should be crystal clear by now.

I've written about HELL NIGHT a couple times before; once over at Retro Slashers and once for the book "Butcher Knives and Body Counts" (which is really good even if I'm in it!) Because of that I thought I might skip this FINAL GIRL FILM CLUB selection but wait, I still have more to say about HELL NIGHT. There's still so much I love about it that I have yet to mention. Every time I take a trip to Garth Manor, I find a different room.

HELL NIGHT is about four pledges who spend the night in a mansion as part of an initiation. The place is rumored to be haunted thanks to a dark history. A father so sickened by his children who were all born with deformities killed his entire family there save for one, whom he forced to witness the act. Not all of the bodies were recovered and legend has it that the surviving son still lurks about. The pledges are locked on the property behind a massive razor sharp gate and pranks are planned to make their stay as uncomfortable as possible. The house itself is goth –glorious both inside and out; trap doors, secret passages, underground tunnels, a garden maze; it's all there. Everything is filmed in deep rich tones framed by inky shadows and broken up by glowing candlelight. The pledge kids are dressed in classical costumes from variant eras. Everything adds up to a horror lovers dream come true.

The four pledges form one of the most endearing casts you'll find in any slasher. LINDA BLAIR as Marti Gaines is impossibly adorable with her chirpy voice and before she discovers her true mettle, she is refreshingly freaked. PETER BARTON, as potential beau Jeff Reed, is relatively dull but his misbegotten old school chivalry makes up for it. Marti and Jeff's budding relationship is unusual in how sweetly romantic it is. We're invested in these characters not simply because we get to know them but because we're allowed to witness the fortuitousness of them getting to know each other. A wonderful scene occurs between the two as they connect by trading childhood traumas. As a kid Marti believes she encountered a witch and in turn Jeff recalls chancing upon an elf. The two decide that their joint histories dealing with unreal beings make them both weirdoes and that as such, they should stick together. Forget every bullshit thing you ever heard about virgins surviving in slasher films. It's the outsider who lives. The one who sees more.

VINCENT VAN PATTEN as Seth and SUKI GOODWIN as Denise are meant to illustrate a more carnal side of the same romantic coin but they are both so goofy and good-natured that they only read as charming free spirits. Their "sex" scene is nothing more than a cartoon pantomime that ends in a giggle fit. As rowdy as HELL NIGHT might try to present itself in its opening scenes, there's no mistaking the fact that its heart beats to a corny, old-fashioned drum that was atypical of its time. It's almost like a film from the fifties dressed up like a film from the eighties. In fact, HELL NIGHT with its characters playing house within an empty mansion and its themes of breaking away from parental expectation could be said to strongly shadow REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE.

HELL NIGHT is directed by TOM DeSIMONE and his work is impressive throughout and simply brilliant on several occasions. Let me point out a couple scenes that I think deserve high praise.

GOODWIN's Denise is sprawled out on a bed waiting for Seth to return. This shot is composed like a painting and you get lost in just how good she looks. You can't help it. Then we get the most abrupt and terrifying pullback view of the monster standing over, dwarfing her while she still lays unaware. It's such a strong bait and switch. There is no way to prepare. The viewer is sneakily lulled by one piece of the puzzle and then taken off guard by the bigger picture. Blink and you'll miss it but it's grand.

Marti and Jeff have found a safe zone. He's got a pitch fork ready to do battle if need be and she's taking a breather on the bed. They're safe as houses and snug as bugs. Then we see what they do not. At first it makes no logical sense but the carpet is rising. Eventually we'll discover that there is a trap door in the floor that the monster is (slowly!) making his way through but for those first moments it's impossible to comprehend. Is it supernatural? Another prank? We don't know but whatever sense of safety we might have had is completely shattered.

There is a sequence toward the climax that never fails to excite me. It's as if all the fine elements that have been floating throughout the film collide in one second.VAN PATTEN's Seth returns to Garth Manor convinced he has destroyed the terrorizing monster. In a flash he is yanked off screen. The shotgun he was yielding fires a shot offstage and then flies toward the front door. It lands, it spins on the floor and stalls perfectly aligned with a light shaft. BLAIR's Marti, who had been hiding her face, nuzzled in BARTON's side swiftly jerks her head to look in fear. The head turn is sublimely synchronized with a pitch perfect musical cue from composer DAN WYMAN and it's a thing of perfection. Gold!

Oh there's so much more; the rapping on the window that turns out to be a toy parrot, leaving a corpse behind that has the keys to the front gate, the twisting underground tunnels, the high stakes rooftop escape. It goes on and on. I admit there are some things that may come off more muddled then they should but they are easily cleared up if you watch close (and often) enough. Really this movie is such a rarity not only for its time, but for any time. It's gorgeously shot and it has wonderful characters and if it should happen to be a bit far fetched sometimes well, welcome to the world of film. There are long moments of stillness in HELL NIGHT that probably come across as slow to some today but I love the patience shown and frankly when I'm in Garth Manor, I like to take my time and stay as long as possible.

Because HELL NIGHT borrows heartily from classic, old dark house flicks it's often mistakenly seen as derivative. The past is not mere window dressing here though, bygone eras and ideas are the source of the horror. Much is made of both Marti and Jeff's family backgrounds, each are quick to point out that their lineage does not define them. Garth Manor is a place where the inhabitants have failed to escape the family fold. The monsters Marti and Jeff must battle are creatures trapped inside the boundaries set by their parentage. It's a conflict that many young people engage in on a smaller, less gruesome scale everyday. It's fitting that in the end the greatest threat is destroyed by an iron fence that encircles the estate, a confining line drawn by its ancestry. When day comes, Marti has won more than just her life; she has won the right to any life she chooses regardless of her upbringing. She turns her back to outdated limitations and walks forward.

Maybe I'm imagining that last part but I'm not imaging this: Garth Manor later went on to star in the Fleetwood Mac video "Big Love." Yay Garth Manor! You are hotter than any Robert Palmer chick! Dance, Garth Manor, dance!

It's a Wonderful Remake!

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Remember how we were just talking about how crummy the world would be without sequels? Well, I think it would be even worse without the even more maligned remake. Sorry, but some of my very best friends are remakes! There are many opportunities with remakes to expand upon ideas and to accomplish things previously impossible and, contrary to popular opinion, remakes do not have the power to jump in a time machine and assassinate the films they are based on and then steal their positions in the universe. So again, here comes a magic meteor to erase all remakes from existence! What a lesser world we'd be living in without the films below! (Feel free to add your favorites.)

THE THING (1982)

This one here is a no-brainer of course and please excuse me for stating the obvious. Sure, when this now beloved classic hit theaters most people were either not interested or saw is as a special effects laden insult to the longer titled, 1951 film based on JOHN W. CAMPBELL's "Who Goes There?" This movie is a fine example of why you should never take any critic's opinion as gospel. Sometimes greatness is particularly hard to identify because it walks so far ahead of the pack.

THE FLY (1986)

The original THE FLY (1958) will always be creepy fun but DAVID CRONENBERG was able to take a semi-hokey premise and graft upon it adult themes that would have never flown decades before. 1986's THE FLY oozes with visuals that the previous incarnation wouldn't dare imagine but it's also one the best relationship movies of any genre if you ask me.

INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS (1978)

Movies don't get much more brilliant than this and no it does not step on the toes of the 1956 predecessor in any way, shape or form. Those worried that substandard rehashes will mar the memory of superior source material take heart, nobody much recalls the 2007 pod people attack on NICOLE KIDMAN called INVASION.

THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE (2003)

In my brain, TOBE HOOPER's TCM may be more of an absolute masterpiece than any of the films I've mentioned thus far. I don't think a film could capture horror in any purer form unless you could somehow get the Devil himself behind the camera. The 2003 version is nowhere near the same ballpark but for a mainstream flick sporting an attractive cast, it threw down the gauntlet and brought the ugly back. Over stylized though it may be, after years of clean-cut mall horror, its successful celebration of the sick, depraved and undoubtedly stinky hacked a path that allowed more aggressive horror to be made. Sure I could probably live without this one but could I live without all the films that were green-lit because of it? Nope.

MY BLOODY VALENTINE (2009)

Did this really happen? I'm still pinching myself. The original is one of my favorite slashers. I never dared dream that it would be remade or even remembered outside of nerdy horror circles. Not only was it made but it also stars TOM ATKINS and it's in 3-D. It even spurred a re-release of the original film on DVD with all of the deleted gore that I only ever fantasized about seeing returned. Oh yeah, it's a good movie too and I've watched it more times than I can count now. So let me make sure I've got the math right; this film brought back a favorite horror character (Harry Warden), actor (ATKINS) format (3-D sorry, haters) and resurrected the original film in its complete and intended form and it's entertaining as hell to boot. Yep, lots to bitch about here.

BLACK CHRISTMAS (2006)

A couple of years I ago I would have told you to stick this remake in a rocket and shoot it towards the sun but only after dousing it in turpentine first. Now I'm all obsessed with it. If I told you I watched it twice this past holiday season I lied. It was three times. Maybe I developed a sense of humor or maybe I realized that remaking BLACK CHRISTMAS ('74) wasn't quite the same thing as wallpapering over the Sistine Chapel. Who knew that when I searched my heart I would find that I had enough faith in the value of the original to believe it strong enough to withstand whatever was thrown at it? My childhood memories are not damaged, my life goes on as it did, except now I have this other really funny version of BLACK CHRISTMAS to enjoy every year along with the first.

THE RING/THE BLOB (2002/1988)

I like both these remakes better than the originals. I mean c'mon, among other things, the first RING has no NAOMI WATTS and the first BLOB is ruefully SHAWNEE SMITH-free. Nuff' said.

PSYCHO (1998)

I agree that this is a terrible, wretched remake but I do not agree that it should have never been made. What person interested in film would not want to at least try to sit through this failed experiment at least once? Watching a shot-for-shot remake with none of the original film's soul present or accounted for makes one appreciate the wondrous artistry that made the first film so dynamic. Plus if you want to fully grasp just what an incredible actor ANTHONY PERKINS was then, you need only observe a moment of VINCE VAUGHN. Sure it's torture but suffering leads to knowledge! Actually, I just had to put this up here to mortify those who might only be scanning the titles.

DAWN OF THE DEAD (2004)

I admit the holed up people in the mall are absolute morons for allowing that obvious zombie woman in the wheelbarrow into the place but that goof aside, this remake is non-stop cool from beginning to end. Truly, it leaves most zombie movies in the dust in its first fifteen minutes.

THE WIZARD OF OZ (1939)

I wonder if there were die hard fans of the 1910 take on FRANK L. BAUM's book that balked and cried when they heard there was going to be a fancy new fangled 1925 version. Did madly passionate fans of the 1925 version cringe and spew bile when they read on the Internet that a new version was being made in 1939? (Please, if you are now thinking of leaving a comment explaining to me that the Internet did not exist in 1925- don't do it, I beg you!)

It's a nice thing that fans are so passionate about their favorite films and it's a real shame that sometimes remakes don't turn out as good as they might. Still, I think people are a little nutso with how close-minded they can be and I wonder if maybe having their identity too wrapped up in stuff that they can't claim ownership of in the first place is the real problem. These movies belong to all of us and I don't mind my share being explored in new and different ways before I croak. You never know which ones are going to be excel and really nobody has the right to say there's no place like home until they're brave enough to journey somewhere else.