Scream-a-thon!
It's easy for me to forget how much I was rooting for SCREAM to be a success when it was released way back in 1996. I recall WES CRAVEN and DREW BARRYMORE doing the talk show rounds and I was there on opening day. I watched as it climbed the charts in ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY and its word-of-mouth staying power victory felt like a personal justification of sorts. The slasher film had finally risen from the grave just as I always hoped and prayed that it would.
One day I had to realize that the Audrey 2 plant I was pointlessly watering was towering over me. The publicity machine behind SCREAM was insatiable and ubiquitous. Eventually I awoke to every borderline personality fan boy nightmare, my lil' pet movie was undeniably and irrevocably mainstream! Worse still, it had no interest in me and my nerd-flavored goodwill; it was courting a generation younger than me right in front of my face! It was like when Marcia Brady helped that wallflower out only to have the dickens surpass and usurp her. SCREAM wasn't revitalizing my youth anymore it was pillaging it! What the hell was I getting out of this relationship? SCREAM was happy as a clam. I felt old and betrayed.
Then the wannabe clones arrived, each more vacant and dunderheaded than the last. They marched in wearing Urban Outfitter uniforms, their faces scrubbed and personality free. Smelling a market, Hollywood opened a cage and out they slinked each Friday with posters Photoshopped into oblivion with death scenes fluffier than MATLOCK. I started to hate the floozy named SCREAM, the two faced harlot, the instigator of mediocrity, the murderer of horror! Oh SCREAM, it wasn't your fault. I had no right to claim you as my own. I'm sorry that I was secretly gleeful when your third outing turned out to be lamer than even I could imagine. That was the end of the millennium. Things were different back then and I'm ashamed at how easily I had forgotten just how original and refreshing SCREAM was upon first discovery.
Sometimes you just need a little distance. You need to clean your palate. You need to let other horror cycles take hold, eclipse, turn sour and fade away. It's been a long time since I've gotten together with this past mercurial love. I think we did catch up a couple years ago and it was pleasant enough but nothing passionate. Yet there's something in the air now, is it spring? I actually do feel a kindling spark of sorts still burning for what once was; both SCREAM and I are older now. Maybe it's time for a new type of understanding to develop…
SCREAM (1996)
I have to admit this movie still has it going on in all the right places. The mystery of what's under its hood has long been discovered but the opening scene still packs a bittersweet wallop. CRAVEN does more than simply unnerve with DREW's inaugural attack, there is such a lovely tragic element to it as well. Armed with KEVIN WILLIAMS' slightly overrated, yet inarguably innovative script, CRAVEN the director is at the height of his powers. There's hardly a superfluous moment anywhere and the whole ride has a wonderfully smooth yet forceful momentum. Unlike many of its imitators, SCREAM looks crisp and clean without being too slick and losing its gravity supplying sense of the natural and every day. (Sadly director of photography MARK IRWIN and CRAVEN parted ways after SCREAM but funnily enough IRWIN did go on to do SCARY MOVIE 3.) So much of the look of SCREAM has been duplicated and parodied that it is easy to forget just how handsome a film it is. Maybe I'm just a sucker for grassy hills and sunsets.
SCREAM of course is famous for being self-referential and for pointing out at every turn the tropes and "rules" theoretically ingrained in slasher films. Personally many of the assumptions repeated about those films I find to be debatable broad clichés that limit our understanding of the genre. Having said that I think that I sometimes woefully miss the undeniable truth that SCREAM, in its heart of hearts, is a love letter and a reverent shrine to slasher movies and cinema in general and for that I want to kiss it all over its ghost mask. Really has one movie ever had a boner for another movie the way SCREAM has a boner for JOHN CARPENTER's HALLOWEEN? There's a big difference between tribute and condescension and although SCREAM's playfulness can grate at times, it's not the facetious lark I sometimes falsely remember it as. The truth is that even though it can be way too name-droppy and quipy for its own good, it does under its conventional mall-approved smile hide a genuinely perverse sadomasochistic streak.
I came away from watching SCREAM again with two major revelations: the first is that as far as "final girls" go I'm not the biggest Sidney Prescot fan. Her "sexual anorexia" and morbid martyrdom papers are in order but as portrayed by the perpetually strained NEVE CAMPBELL I find her difficult to believe and strangely unsympathetic. "I'm sorry if my traumatized life is an inconvenience to your perfect existence!" she spews and I just kind of want to wring her neck. Whereas most "final girls" have walked anonymously alone with survival their only reward, Sydney has the attention and concern of her entire community and it just kind of irks me. Plus I think partying on the one-year anniversary of your mother's brutal death is tacky. Stranger than my newfound ambivalence toward Sid is my newfound, heart-eyed affection for the refreshingly direct persona of Gale Weathers (COURTNEY COX). I'm not happy about this development either but there it is. For me, Weathers is the most entertaining character in the lot and I appreciate that her disposition atypically softens rather than hardens. I know she is supposed to be a callous careerist but at least she can finish a sentence without a pop culture reference.
Even though Sidney Prescott affection eludes me I don't have a hard time recognizing SCREAM's classic status. It sets out to turn expectations on their head and it succeeds. Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of the series is its ability to stand without a consistent killer in its spine. The monster in SCREAM is fluid, an empty shell identity that any person or persons can inhabit. While we are here, why not let us take a cursory peak at the sequels that followed…
SCREAM 2 (1997)
The opening kill in SCREAM 2, set at a premiere for a film based on the events in the first movie not only kicks the meta to a new level but perfectly captures the excitement and enthusiasm that surrounded the bourgeoning franchise at the time. I'd love to give the series some props for confronting criticisms that it presented an all white universe by including African Americans in the sequel, but since every black character shown is presented the exact same way I'm not sure I can. Be that as it may this is a sequel that does a fine enough job of transporting the working elements of the previous installment into semi-fresh terrain. There is one scene that I always dread though. I live in fear of JERRY O'CONNELL singing, "I think I love you" on the cafeteria table. It upsets me more than any death in the entire series. I find it too embarrassing to withstand and I have to look away and cover my ears. Other than that, it's mostly gravy. Sidney as "Cassandra" somehow works and I'm all about LAURIE METCALF & BUFFY. No matter its over bloated nature, I can't say this installment isn't fun.
SCREAM 3 (2000)
A huge step down for sure but I remember part three being a lot worse than it actually is. If the revelation of the killer was not so humdrum it might have been almost good. SCREAM 3 transports the action to Hollywood, which adds an alienating, navel-gazing atmosphere that the series could have done without. Cameos from the Weinstein stable in the form of Jay and Silent Bob set the tin ear tone. Dead Randy (JAMIE KENNEDY) showing up via videotape to spout complete gibberish as trilogy dogma and an initially amusing turn from PARKER POSEY that nosedives into screechy, flailing-armed stoogery don't help matters much. Ironically the strongest element may involve Sidney finally digging into the dirt of her dilemma rather than looking down at it from miles above. Again I think that the character of Gale Weathers secretly holds the shindig together and her relationship with Dewey resonates as the closest thing to known human reality in the film. At this point SCREAM seems to have lost track of its horror roots and is happy operating as an ensemble version of MURDER SHE WROTE. Guns and explosions reign supreme and you may find yourself begging for anything that even remotely resembles the inspired garage door kill from the first film.
SO NOW….
I'm totally psyched for the fourth installment. I know that may sound disingenuous after what I just said but I can't help it. I don't care that I hate and despise certain elements of the SCREAM series; for the most part it's wicked nifty and I'm now, against my better judgment, grossly invested in the characters once more. Will my tolerance of Sidney continue to grow? What the hell's going on with Gale and Dewey, I have to know! (Man, I wonder what kinda fucked up haircut Gale is going to sport this time…) I just hope that a lesson has been learned from past mistakes and from the litany of films that tried to duplicate SCREAM's initial success and failed. The blurb that seemed to attach itself like a barnacle to the poster art was "Clever, Hip and Scary!" Do me a favor CRAVEN and company, don't worry so much about those first two adjectives and concentrate on that last one. If the best scene in your entire series ends up being forever the first one I'd call that a steady downhill slide.
NOTE: Stab me if you want to but yes, I do think TORI SPELLING played a superior Sidney Prescot! I'm not proud of that admission either!
Traumafessions :: Reader Brain Katcher on Chick Tract "Holy Joe"
When I was very young, I found this gory war comic at my grandparents' house. I couldn't read all the words, but did get the gist: A group of soldiers locked in combat with the Japanese (in retrospect they were actually VC). The buck-toothed, rat-faced enemy guns down our heroes. In an odd departure for a combat story, the saga continues as their souls rise up to God for their final judgment.
Two panels especially frightened my young self: A picture of two soldiers' bullet-riddled corpses and a image of a soldier cradling the head of his dead companion. He was positioned in such a way that it looked like the head wasn't attached to anything.
Years later, in college, I came across the same comic. Guess what? It wasn't a comic, but a damn Jack Chick religious tract! Some might say it was even more disturbing in that light. You can read the whole thing HERE!
Traumafessions :: Reader Amanda C. on Halloween & The New England Ghost Files (Book)
I am the youngest of four kids. My oldest brother is about 8 years older than me and I admired him greatly growing up. I was fascinated by everything he was fascinated by, I listened to the music he listened to, and watched the movies he watched. All I wanted to do was be him. He was always into horror movies and horror stories so I was surrounded as a kid.
This brings me to two major traumafessions. The first is in regard to the horror classic HALLOWEEN. It was my brother's favorite horror movie and Michael Myers was a major horror icon to him. He dressed up as Michael during spirit week in high school one year and actually scared a girl so much that she ran out of the classroom. Of course this led to me seeing HALLOWEEN at the age of five. This movie is traumatizing to people in their 40's and here was five year old me seeing Michael Myers stalk babysitters. It's not that I was a babysitter, I was still a kid being babysat which was much worse. For the longest time after seeing it I couldn't even hear the music without crying. I was convinced that Michael Myers was out to get me. I truly love Halloween and respect it as a movie fan but even now, as an adult, my only nightmares have Michael Myers in them.
The second traumafession actually comes from a book my brother frequently read when he was a teenager. It was a book called "The New England Ghost Files" that he borrowed from my grandfather. I was probably around seven years old when this occurred so I was a little older, a little wiser. Didn't make this book any less traumatizing for me. It's not that the stories scared me, I never read any of them. The cover of the book is what got me. It was an illustration of a ghost above a door and the ghost had these glowing red eyes. Every time I went in his room for something I would see the book and turn it over so those red eyes weren't staring at me. Seeing the cover now brings back all those feelings I had as a kid. I hope to find the book soon so I can actually read it but maybe it'd be better if I didn't.
I realize that a lot of my traumafessions stem from my brother but we're actually still incredibly close amazingly enough.
Traumafessions :: Jeff Martin of Better Geek Than Never on The Tingler
For as long as I can remember up until I was about thirteen years old, I had a recurring nightmare. I was being chased through a grove of trees on a stormy night by a man in a trenchcoat whose face I couldn't see. I ran through the trees to about the halfway point when suddenly, the man appeared in front of me at the other end of the grove! I decided to just run at him as fast as I could and tackle him. If I could knock him down, I could escape. So I started booking it towards this guy… when something dropped out of the trees onto my neck. This thing immediately began eating its way through my flesh and into my spinal cord. I tried to scream but couldn't. All I could do was sink to my knees while this horrible whatever it was ate its way into my spine.
Every time I had this dream, I would wake up in bed in full-on crab position. Arched back, flat palmed on the bed, with my head bent back as far as it would go as if I were trying to keep my spine inside my body. I would be confused, crying and terrified.
It wasn't until years later that I realized I was having nightmares about the WILLIAM CASTLE classic, THE TINGLER! The thing I felt trying to eat my spine was the parasite creature and the man I was running from was VINCENT PRICE. Now, here's the weird part.
I don't remember ever seeing that movie. I still haven't seen it. I just know that's what it was from research in books and on the internet.
What happened to me?
— Jeff Martin
Better Geek Than Never
Stream Warriors :: Aunt John on The Capture of Bigfoot & Murders in the Rue Morgue
Shooting at the walls of trauma (Bang! Bang!), your dear old Aunt John is this week's Stream Warrior and, heart to heart, you will win… if you can survive… my two Netflix Streaming choices.
THE CAPTURE OF BIGFOOT (1979)
A little whiles back Reader Tim sent in a stellar Traumafession on Bionic Bigfoot and it reignited your Aunt John's grade school crush on the big hairy lug. I ravenously devoured all of the YouTube clips available on Mr. Big and his equally as dreamy cousins Yeti and Sasquatch and was left still wanting more. Thankfully, Netflix Streaming cured my furry fever with the 1979 ju-ju jive turkey THE CAPTURE OF BIGFOOT. The film had me its epic ballad intro, but from there things just went downhill. For starters, there is no Bigfoot in this flick; the creature terrorizing the ski resort community is an Abominable Snowman. The sub-par plot coupled with the atrocious acting honestly makes SNOWBEAST seem like an episode of Masterpiece Theater.
I reckon I should just save everyone their time and show the best musical number filmed in a ski lodge besieged by a bipedal beastie… ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm Kindertrauma welcome to The Friends who have graciously agreed to perform their amazing hit Sensuous Tiger!!!!!
PS, by the way: If anyone knows where your Aunt John can score a red halter jumpsuit like that, please sound off in the comments!
MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE (1971)
Saturday mornings in the late ‘70s used to be your Aunt John's jam. My two older brothers were usually out doing manly things like playing little league or taking swimming lessons and my two younger siblings were toddlers, so yours truly had full run of the television set. The morning usually consisted of SCOOBY-DOO, CAPTAIN CAVEMAN & THE TEEN ANGELS, JOSIE & THE PUSSYCATS, JABBERJAW and any other cartoon involving groups of plucky teens who solved mysteries while performing in bands. In hindsight, these morning HANNA-BARBERA chestnuts simply served as the amuse-bouche for the always anticipated afternoon airing of Channel 48's CREATURE DOUBLE FEATURE.
I would go crazy at the sight of the cheesy hand popping out of the grave and even crazier if one of the featured films on the double-bill happened to be MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. As a kid, I had no idea what was going in the movie other than there was a creepy little person working in a Punch and Judy booth, everyone wore capes, and the leading lady had large and hypnotic eyes. After recently re-watching it on Netflix Streaming, I can confirm there is a pint-sized puppeteer, everyone in this movie (even the background extras) are bedecked in capes and lead actress CHRISTINE KAUFFMAN has one heck of a set of peepers. The film also features HERBERT LOM, occasionally in a gorilla suit, and a somewhat younger JASON ROBARDS (in my mind, he will always have grey hair and be the father from SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES) in a cape.
PS, by the way: Can someone please bring back the cape? Think of how sophisticated you would look if you paired it with a red halter jumpsuit. Sensuous tiger, indeed! Hit it Patty:
Insidious
One selling point that is unlikely to ignite my interest is the line,"From the makers of SAW and PARANORMAL ACTIVITY." I'm not what you would call a fan of either of those films. Be that as it may, I am now willing to let bygones be bygones and move forward. JAMES WAN you and I got off on the wrong foot but all is forgiven thanks to INSIDIOUS. Have you been reading my diary Mr. WAN because you have somehow delivered just the type of film I've been seriously yearning for lately, a straight-forward, old fashioned spook-a-thon that has faith in its audiences imagination. What a pleasure it is to be legitimately creeped-out for a change. The sound of a theater audience gasping in unison and then chuckling at themselves is music to my ears.
INSIDIOUS is wonderfully simple. What else do you need to know besides the fact that it centers on a family experiencing a haunting? The good news is that unlike many a supernatural film that has come down the pike as of late you get the sense that those behind the camera may actual believe what they are telling you and have a healthy respect for the otherworldly. There is darkness in this film and it feels like darkness should, expansive and limitless and deviously shrouding the unknown. The beauty part of INSIDIOUS for me is that it's like listening to somebody tell a ghost story and then recognizing a moment where the storyteller has entered the zone where they are freaking themselves out as well, rare stuff indeed.
Made for relative pennies and parading effective performances rather than CGI, INSIDIOUS takes a giant step forward by looking toward the past. The excesses of WAN'S previous effort DEAD SILENCE are robustly buffered here and it's as if the film could stand as a eureka moment marker for the director where he gleans the concept of "less is more." Timing is everything and there are so many visual moments in INSIDIOUS that linger only long enough to mark the psyche and then scatter into oblivion and the effect leaves you straining your eyeballs in a futile attempt to capture and pinpoint the cause. In other words, it plays rather like a communal séance where you have a ring side seat to witness the supernatural. That's what I (and apparently the audience I saw this with) call fun. To quote ANIMAL HOUSE, "Thank you sir, may I have another?"
Both PATRICK WILSON and ROSE BYRNE are convincing as befuddled parents who resist the gravity of their situation for as long as possible only to discover their worst fears are just the tip of the iceberg. THE ENTITY's BARBARA HERSHEY shows up to throw some un-played cards on the table and reveal that she doesn't mind starring in TWO of the better films I've seen in the last year. DEAD END's LIN SHAYE leaves the most indelible mark as a Tangina-schooled psychic in a gas mask. Can I just let it be known that as far as scream queens go y'all can have your pip squeaks and dopey debutantes and I'll take the inimitable SHAYE? She's wonderful in this and much like the late great ZELDA RUBINSTEIN in POLTERGEIST, her character is presented as whimsical comedy relief of sorts only to, with a glance or change of tone, suggest a razor sharp depth that unsettles and takes you completely off guard. Really it's a classic performance.
So yeah, I highly recommend INSIDIOUS; it does something wonderful by allowing the mysterious and uncanny free space to roam and rather than tie everything up in a pretty bow, it stokes the imagination. The way it drop kicks the grotesque smack dab into the everyday at regular intervals is sort of like bumping into that homeless alley rat from MULHOLLAND DRIVE on every block you stumble down. This is a movie that I think truly earns its title and I'm going to award it a zillion extra points for recognizing the voluptuous horror of TINY TIM. Go see it in the theater rather than wait for home viewing and do yourself a giant favor by allowing the darkness extra room to play.
Name That Trauma :: Reader SlackerDan on a Desert Battle With a Spinning Head
Dear KinderTrauma,
There's a movie I'd really like to track down because a scene from it traumatized me as a child. The only thing I remember from the movie was a scene taking place in the desert and (I think) some sort of battle was taking place. Then a big man wearing a turban (again, I think it was a turban) puts on a ring and his head starts spinning around and around. Cursed ring, I guess. Anyways, I freaked out when I saw that, and was wondering if you ever remember seeing a similar scene to the one I described.
Great, great site!!
— SlackerDan
Streaming Alert: Terrorvision!
UNK SEZ: Heads up! I just happily stumbled across the never released on DVD fluorescent eighties spaz attack TERRORVISION rearing its kooky head on Netflix Streaming! It's the only film I know of that can satisfy your yearnings for MARY WARANOV and DIANE FRANKLIN at the same time! You can check out a full, old and barely readable review HERE but the images and trailer below should tell you all you need to know!
Kindertrauma Funhouse
Mhahahaha! Who dares to enter the Funhouse on April First? You will be praying for the kind mercy of BORIS KARLOFF and BARBARA STEELE once ALAN ALDA and JILL CLAYBURGH get their hands on you! Run, run and don't look back! Tell no one of what you have witnessed here less ye desire to taste the wrath of ANN REINKING!
