Traumafessions :: Kinderpal FilmFather on Dying With Your Eyes Open
Personally, I believe it's a milestone in the loss of one's innocence: learning that you can die with your eyes open.
Up to a certain point in childhood, any death you see on-screen ends with a dramatic last gasp and closing of the eyes, like the person died by some form of lethal exhaustion. But eventually, you watch that "grown-up" movie or show where it doesn't happen that way: somebody dies with their eyes open, and it traumatizes you in a landmark sort of way.
For me, this revelation came as a one-two punch in the form of two lesser-known films from the '70s — neither one a horror film and both, strangely enough, starring BURT REYNOLDS.
One is 1976's GATOR, where JERRY REED (in an underrated bad-guy performance) blows a hole in JACK WESTON with his sawed-off shotgun. We catch a fleeting glimpse of WESTON's lifeless body, eyes and mouth open, as REED douses the room with gasoline and sets it on fire.
The other is 1975's LUCKY LADY about rum-runners during the Prohibition era. In a scene where are heroes (REYNOLDS and JAMES CAAN) are ambushed on a cargo boat, bad guy JOHN HILLERMAN (no, not MAGNUM PI's beloved Higgins!) machine-guns down REYNOLDS and CAAN's protege, a very young ROBBY BENSON. As REYNOLDS and CAAN lay wounded as well, they roll over to see BENSON slumped on his side, his pretty-boy eyes wide open and glazed over in death.
Lancifer and John, I put the question to your readers:
What was the first movie or T.V. show that showed you that you can die with your eyes open?
AUNT JOHN SEZ: That's a really good question FilmFather. As a kid, I was of the school of thought that when you died, you ended up with your legs in the air, like a recently deceased horse in a cartoon. In hindsight, it makes no sense, but I really thought a pair of legs at a ninety degree angle was a sure sign of death. As for the eyes wide open approach, I am drawing a complete blank. Readers, please sound off in the comments or shoot us an email.
Name That Trauma :: Reader Melissa on a Plague Ravaged, Burnt Baby
Hi! Long time lurker with a request that has plagued me my whole life:
I'm looking for a movie that I saw the tail end of back when I was a little girl, probably in the late 1970s, on network television.
I walked over to my childhood friends' house and found their older teenage brother Ritchie sitting on the couch watching a movie that he said was about to go over any minute.
I remember a scene of devastation, a never-ending field of treeless wilderness and a woman — perhaps with long dark hair and ragged peasant clothes, carrying a baby in a bundle close to her chest as she trudges across the scorched Earth. There may be bunkers… maybe even bodies littered along the countryside; something that indicated an incredible tragedy. Her silent walking while dramatic music swelled in the background made me ask Ritchie what was the movie about.
His explanation to this day is barely recalled. Although I do faintly remember something about a natural disaster, and him telling me that, "The world became very sick," and everyone died except for a very few people.
The next scene has the woman finally kneeling on the ground as if she can trudge no more, cradling her baby closer and weeping. A man approaches her — he perhaps with shoulder-length dark hair and a beard — and asks her if she is okay.
The woman looks sadly up at the man and, with a vague accent, states, "My baby… is dead."
Next scene we see is the man and the woman standing next to a grave that they had dug for the baby. Or perhaps it was a pyre to burn the infected little body. Either way I remember them standing side by side, both now silently grieving for the lost little life. And it broke my child-like heart.
I've been searching for this movie for years, but have never run across it in all my movie-watching habits. Googling movies about "plague" and the film METEOR came up that sounds as if it might have been a similar premise. But METEOR came out in 1979, which would have probably made it too late to air on television for me to see it as a child. Doing a plot search on several other disaster films from the ‘70s also came up unhelpful.
Then again it might not have been a natural disaster that caused the plague, although a part of me wants to remember that it was. I was really terrified of the whole out-of-control concept of natural disasters as a kid, and it had to have been something like that to have frightened and saddened me so much at the time.
AUNT JOHN SEZ: If anyone knows the title, please leave a comment or shoot us an email.
UPDATE: It sounds to me like reader Tychoanomaly may have hit the nail right on the head with Arch Oboler's FIVE (1951)….
Traumafessions :: Reader Joe D. on Jerry Mahoney, Knucklehead Smiff & Clarabell
The recent Puppet Show at the ICA resurrected the memory of a particular childhood fear.
While I enjoyed both the HOWDY DOODY SHOW and PAUL WINCHEL's show on T.V. every week, I once had a frightening dream in which these amusing and friendly T.V. entertainers appeared in my bed room, hovering over the foot of my bed, and when I crawled over to them to greet them, they attacked me, tormenting me physically (lifting me off the bed by pulling hair and ears, pinching skin, and interestingly, nothing sexual, as far as I can recall, given that I was far too young to experience that in my dream world). The fear of these puppets, and, moreover, my bed, where the attack occurred, remained with me for years.
I am not sure if the two shows were contemporaries, so I cannot say for certain if I continued to watch both after that dream, but I do know that I did not stop watching whichever was still shown, despite the fear these images brought me at night, because there really was nothing scary about these puppets, as presented on T.V.
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.
Traumafessions :: Reader Heather on the Tristar Pegasus
I was afraid of many things as a child, but nothing proved to traumatize me more than the old Tristar opening before movies with the Pegasus running towards the screen. I can honestly say that I have never watched that little 15 second opening all the way through. When I was young, I was convinced that if I watched it all the way through, the Pegasus would jump through the TV and attack me. (Which makes no sense, seeing as the Pegasus of mythology was a good creature and I knew this, being a mythology nerd from a young age.) I would run out of the room or hide behind a couch as soon as I heard the highly recognizable music. Everyone in my family found this amusing, but at the time I was scared to death.
A few years back, I got bored and popped in an old VHS tape I hadn't watched in years. As I stood in the middle of my room contemplating fast forwarding, I heard the music and saw the Pegasus head enter the screen. I lost my breath, my chest tightened, and the sense of doom I felt was overwhelming. The Tristar Pegasus caused an irrational minor panic attack. You think I would be over this by now, but to this day, at 23, I cannot watch that opening.
Traumafessions :: Reader Kim S. on A Claymation Christmas Celebration
The WILL VINTON CHRISTMAS CLAYMATION SPECIAL gave me nightmares for years. My mom and sister watched it every year and I was given no choice but to destroy the video. I mean what twisted human creates a Christmas Special for kids hosted by two Dinosaurs named Rex and Herb, and then does a scene of bells ringing with an evil creepy old hunched back man. Seriously, dinosaurs…WTF!
Traum-merical Break :: X-Mas at Kiddie City & Woolworth's
AUNT JOHN SEZ: Normally, your Aunt John turns a blind eye towards the siren-song shenanigans of M.I.L.F.s…. but I am finding it super-hard to resist these blazers, shoulder pads, and dance moves.
Name That Trauma :: Reader Joe D. on Warden Eating Dogs
I have a vague recollection of having seen a movie on T.V. many (many) years ago (early to middle 1960s) about a cruel prison warden who kept these fierce hounds as guard dogs. I recall that the prisoners were mistreated, perhaps they were political prisoners, and, at times tortured, and, perhaps, fed to the dogs. I also recall that their blood was sometimes drained, and, perhaps consumed by the warden (none of this is very clear to me and given the time, none of this would have been explicitly shown). I recall the film had a Mexican or Spanish setting, but this may be my own childish interpretation of the uniforms of the guards (I was a child, and may have misread the setting).
However, the conclusion was something that has frightened me for years, even though it was an off-screen event: the warden, fleeing from some disruption in the prison (perhaps a revolt, I cannot recall), is torn to death by his own dogs. His shrieks and the dogs' howls were quite vivid and terrifying, "blood-curdling" as goes the cliché.
Perhaps this is why I am, to this day, so wary around dogs.
UPDATE: It seems Joe D. (with assistance from Leonard Maltin) has answered his own question with 1958's BLOOD OF THE VAMPIRE…
