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Who wore it best:
When I was young I was scared of two things, The Bermuda Triangle and the Devil. I was pretty sure the triangle had to stay put, so if I decided not to go on any plane or boat rides I would be all right. The devil too, I imagined was easily identifiable, (resembling the character on the Underwood Deviled Ham can) and pretty much restricted to staying far underground in a place called H-E-double-hockey-sticks. These theories and more would vaporize the night I begged my mother to let me stay up and watch SATAN'S TRIANGLE a 1975 television movie. The film starts off pleasantly enough with the Coast Guard finding an abandoned vessel with one lone survivor. Doug McClure listens intently as an icy Kim Novak recounts the paranormal demise of all aboard. Doug is a skeptic and is able to find logical solutions to every mysterious anecdote she has to offer. It's all very soothing to realize that every spooky unexplainable occurrence can be effortlessly shot through full of holes by the rational McClure. After everything is put in its place and we decide nothing is amiss, a helicopter arrives and suddenly the fabric of all we thought was real begins to unravel at a demonic speed. As much as I'd love to reveal the ending, I really couldn't do it justice anyway… suffice it to say, it's still the scariest I've ever seen. Besides bearing witness to the creepiest, longest, direct eye contact, smile ever put to film; my sense of reality along with Mr. McClure's character's was smashed into a million pieces and would never be repaired. My mother had her hands full trying to get my screaming, crying ass into bed that night and, for what seemed like years, I would huddle under the covers trying not to think bad thoughts. From that night on I lived with the realization that the devil and even the Bermuda triangle were a lot closer than I thought.
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Count Dracula, who is not exactly well known for his positive contributions to society hit a new low when he used misogynist hate speak in addressing Monster Squad member Phoebe Crenshaw — who is just the tender age of five. Though evil, undead, and a creature of the night, the Count was widely viewed as the most cultured and refined of the classic monsters; his recent actions could tarnish this perception permanently. If the sequences of events in the film MONSTER SQUAD are to be believed (and I have no reason to doubt them) Ms. Crenshaw, with aid of a magic amulet, was in the process of delivering an incantation in German that would summon a whirlpool leading to a "limbo" dimension that was meant to trap the Transylvanian forever. So enraged was the Count at the idea of being foiled that he grabbed the diminutive Crenshaw by the chin, lifted her off the ground, and bellowed in her face "Give me the amulet you B-I-T-C-H!" Onlookers both human and monster alike were taken aback by the outburst. A fish creature who asked not to be named had only this to say, "Not cool."
Hey look! It's our very first TRAUMAFESSION and it comes from somebody I KNOW saw too many horror flicks as a tot, my very own niece Tiffani!
Chucky and Freddy were by far my worst experiences with horror movies as a child. As a little kid, watching a movie about someone who kills you in your dreams right before you go to bed is probably not a great idea. It makes you want to do one thing… never fall asleep, which is probably a parent's worst nightmare. Then you have Chucky. How would you feel if you believed your favorite doll was killing your family and babysitters when you weren't looking and inevitably wanted to use you as a sacrifice? Not a heartwarming thought. As a kid, most movies couldn't top those two. They made little kids imaginations run wild in a terrible kind of way.
Oh yeah! And you can't forget PET SEMETARY with the little dead baby, Gage. Especially when he says, 'I played with Mommy. We had a awfully good time! Now, I want to play with YOU!' And when he slit the guy's Achilles… that was awful.
Remember kids, write in so we can post your TRAUMAFESSION and then you can be all cool like Tiffani!
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Lack of coordination and mild case of childhood obesity aside, the real reason I never strapped skis to my feet and realized my childhood fantasy of being the toast of the late 1970s lodge scene was due, in part, to the made for TV movie Snowbeast. In a nutshell, some sort of unseen monster has been viciously attacking and terrorizing the winter sport enthusiasts at the seemingly under populated Rill Lodge and Ski Resort. I use unseen in the literal sense; perhaps due to a tight budget disguised as a suspense device, our monster is camera shy, and viewers are treated to some heavy breathing and shaky camera work from the perspective of said snowbeast each time he is about to pounce on a victim. Disregarding the mounting body count, the elderly owner of the resort plows ahead with the 50th Annual Winter Carnival. Clearly not one to miss out on a shindig, the Snowbeast makes his first on camera appearance, much to the audible horror of the soon-to-be-crowned Winter Carnival Queen. The Snowbeast responds by smashing out a window, inciting a riot amongst the carnival crowd, and murdering the Carnival Queen's mother in the parking lot. This was the scene that scared me off the slopes some 30 years ago, and this was the scene where I stopped paying attention to the drawn out love story involving the over-the-hill Olympic skier and his annoying wife.
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