Category: Seasons Beatings
Traumafessions :: Reader Toby B. on NutCracker Fantasy
Hey all, long time reader, first time submitter.
While I suffered many, many traumatic events (THE PEANUT BUTTER SOLUTION, SALEM'S LOT, etc.) the worst and most pervasive for me was the 1979 film NUTCRACKER FANTASY released by Rankin/Bass. Granted, from what I understand it was originally released in theatres, but I caught it for the first time on television (it's a tad older than I am, so I missed it in theatres) and so I probably didn't suffer quite the level of trauma that those children whose parents took them to see what would probably have been touted as a "family film" in the day, but it is still absolutely terrifying for me.
I personally have to say this movie's the the worst traumatizer for me because of the (in)famous Rag Man character that literally had the complete opposite effect on me than what was obviously (in retrospect) intended. My parents probably wondered why I couldn't sleep for three days afterward my viewing without having terrible nightmares compounded by the fact I was terrified of being awake to keep from having those nightmares. The rest of the movie was extremely trippy, and as such I cannot really tell you too much more about the film, aside from the fact that the finale song "Dance of the Dolls" (or something of the sort) has been constantly kicking around in the back of my head for the last 20-odd years, surpassing the annoyance caused by "It's a Small World" by far.
Lucky for me (or unlucky, depending on your opinion), the film has never been commercially released on DVD, so I can avoid it as a part of the usual Christmas deluge of Rankin/Bass films. Unfortunately for me, though, the fact that I cannot watch it again means that I can't exorcise the horrors of my childhood by watching it again and seeing how foolish my fear is.
It is foolish, right? Right?
AUNT JOHN SEZ: Nope Toby, there's nothing foolish about the way you feel. Based on the introductory footage we were able to unearth below, I'd be hesitant to sit through the whole special, save for the fact that it does star two of my personal heroes JO ANNE WORLEY and EVA GABOR (as Queens Morphia and Time, respectively). I would like to add though, RANKIN & BASS (per my crack sources) did not actually have a hand in this holiday nightmare. Director TAKEO NAKAMURA did work as an animator on the R&B special SANTA CLAUS IS COMIN' TO TOWN, but that is where the connection ends.
Traum-mercial Break :: Krazy Karpet
UNK SEZ: Christmas means family, and here at Kindertrauma Castle family means adopted cousin Kitty Leclaw of KILLER KITTENS FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE fame! Our long lost relative stopped by recently to tell us exactly what was on the top of her wish-ker list this year. No, it's not a scratching post, she's got plenty of those! Kitty covets a Krazy Karpet!
Name That Trauma :: A Very Special Little Matchstick Girl Edition
AUNT JOHN SEZ: Today's NAME THAT TRAUMA, courtesy of kinderpal Ratsawgod, is unique in that he knows the name of his trauma, he just can't place the version of it. Please bust out your Kleenex, and leave your guesses in the comments section (or email 'em to us).
Take it away Ratsawgod:
It's Christmas and, as usual, my mind returns to one of my very first Kindertraumas ever.
It was the mid-1970's and my parents had just left me in the care of relatives to attended an adults-only Christmas party. I was planted in the game room set up in their attic and, left to fend for myself for a few hours, I innocently turned on the television. Then it happened: I was exposed the story of THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL, by Hans Christian Andersen.
I remember that it was an animated version. I remember there were these narrative bookends used in the telling of the story; a boy is sitting on the steps of a city building (possibly a library) and he begins telling the tale to a lone dog (possibly a stray.) We are then dropped into the story as Hans Christian Andersen wrote it, in all of its heartbreaking humanity and horror. At the end of the cartoon, we cut back to the boy on the steps as he concludes the story. The dog is still there, and now has been joined by many, many other passer-bys, who have stopped their daily activity and are standing there, agog, intently listening to the boy's story as he speaks the final lines. The camera pulls back as we see the boy, the dog, the mass of people. All listening. All thinking. All feeling. Snow falls, wind blows, and it is quiet. The city is still.
Even as I type this, I cannot help but weep. It was the first time, the first time EVER as a small boy I fully understood that bad things can happen to good people, that children CAN be alone in the world, and are absolutely vulnerable to anything. As small boy I was unspeakably stunned by THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL's rags and bare feet in the hard winters night, by the ripping harsh wind, by the fact no body would buy her matches, and by the fact the sheer apathy of the city folk caused her to die.
Right then, right there, as a boy of six or so, I was never, ever the same again. I suddenly understood life was ruthless and hard and that scared me down to the very core of my being.
I doubt if I mentioned this experience to my parents when they returned to pick me up that night, but I bet I hugged them a little harder and said a little prayer to be safely back in their arms again.
I'm guessing this aired sometime between 1975 and 1977. It's a short story, and I think it was also a short cartoon. BUT it may have been a small tale inserted within a larger animated feature. This is all I remember.
Does anyone out there remember this specific version of THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL? I'd love to see it again. It ultimately became such a formative piece of who I am, and even to this very day I still draw upon that early viewing experience. And ponder. And ache. And reflect.
Any help would be greatly appreciated. The mystery of the animated tale has haunted me for decades.
Dead End
On Christmas Eve the Harrington family embarks on a journey to visit relatives for the holidays. Along the way they get lost and I mean really, really lost. Normal everyday reality seems to fly out their car window as one by one they succumb to a dark, deadly force that presents itself in the form of an ominous black automobile. Like a collaboration (or perhaps a collision) between EDWARD ALBEE and ROD STERLING, this Trojan horse of a film is misleadingly simple and masterfully manipulative.
One of DEAD END's greatest feats is how perfectly it captures the feeling and tone of a dream. More incredibly still is how it snares that moment during a dream when you realize that you are having an awful nightmare. Minimalistic, yet fused with countless symbols and layers of meaning, it masquerades as a routine journey when it's anything but. As bizarre and borderline surreal as events become, it's nearly impossible not to relate to the situation presented. Anyone who has ever taken a wrong turn or found themselves trapped in a day that never seems to end will find themselves on disturbingly familiar ground. The behavior of some of the characters may seem unlikely at first, but multiple viewings of the Harrington family's ordeal iron out these wrinkles quite nicely. This is one movie where all the signs are present but are almost indecipherable upon your first viewing.
It is rare to find a modern horror film that hinges on the performances of its actors. Considering that DEAD END's action takes place in a limited environment, one weak link could knock over the whole house of cards. Yet all the players assembled here are remarkable and excel at playing against each other. There's not much in way of special effects or explosive visuals, but I doubt you'll miss them due to the actors' highly entertaining turns. It's not easy to shift gears from hysterically funny to nerve-rackingly creepy, but this group makes it look as easy as changing a radio station. Genre vets RAY WISE and LIN SHAYE both knock it out of the park as Dad and Mom Harington, and as their offspring MICK CAIN and ALEXANDRA HOLDEN are no slouches either. (HOLDEN has an excellent scene where she is required to scream up to the heavens and beg for, if not an answer, then at least some kind of mercy. Considering the comical vibe that DEAD END has been flirting with, the existential defeatism expressed is all the more disturbing.)
The behind the camera talent is equally adept. The direction and writing shared by JEAN-BAPTISTE ANDREA and FABRICE CANEPA is never pretentious or showy. When all the puzzle pieces are in place, you realize just how seamless it all is. Additionally, hats off to the almost subliminal editing and the ever persuasive use of sound. It is increasingly rare to find a film that is brave enough not to wrap itself in neon and underline and circle its every step. Rather than begging the audience to fall in love with it every five seconds, DEAD END challenges the audience to keep up with it.
If you are looking for holiday horror, but are not interested in having cymbals smashed against your ears for an hour and a half, DEAD END is just for you. Many movies may end up parking in the same garage as DEAD END, but few do such a wonderful job of earning their right to be there. If its final moments give you a frustrating sense of déjà vu, just remember it's not the destination that's important, it's the journey. Genuinely funny, surprisingly haunting and ultimately moving, DEAD END should be spoken in the same breath as MULHOLLAND DRIVE and the seminal mind-screwer JACOB'S LADDER. It simply does a bang up job of reminding us once again that how we see events is governed more by personal perception than any universal concrete reality.
