And if I were a DJ, October would be ROCKtober! Yeeaaaaagh!
What I mean to say, is that October will set upon those of us in EST in about 5 hours. Because this is the first Halloween month for Final Girl, and because I tried to think of something rad to do but couldn't come up with anything on my own, I'll be joining Des over at Without Me You're Only You in the massive goal of watching a movie-a-day for the entire month. This idea came to me in a flash, a flash I tells ya, when I was reading about Rick Geerling's attempts to do the very same thing last year, over at Dark, But Shining.
I figure this town IS big enough for all of us, right?
I've been stocking up on cheap VHS movies and strategically shuffling my Netflix queue for days and days, and I think I've got a pretty good lineup of movies ahead. They're not necessarily my favorites- in fact, there's quite a few I've never seen before, or haven't seen in ages, so that's got me psyched. I've also got a couple of marathons planned to mix things up a little. I'll be doing a Friday the 13th marathon-all 11 of 'em in a day- after which you can check out Steven's musings on the series over at Corpse Eaters. There's also a Halloween marathon planned- all 9 of 'em. Am I crazy? Could be. But I'm doin' it all for you, Final Girl!
So who knows what state I'll be in when October is over- perhaps I'll never want to watch another movie again. Perhaps, after the marathons, my ass will fuse with my couch. Maybe my eyes will shrivel up and fall out, or perhaps I'll end my days sitting in a corner, knees to chin, rocking and muttering to myself about germs. We'll have to wait and see. Yay!
Lock your doors...bolt your windows...pull up your pants...it's time for----
SHOCKtober!!!
Sep 30, 2005
Sep 23, 2005
Please, put ME on a meathook...
Let me just start off by saying that I do give new movies a chance. Really, I do. I may do a little ragin', but the fact of the matter is, I want to watch horror movies, so I do. Even the remakes- which (gasp) aren't always bad. (Hey, I like House on Haunted Hill, even if it does fall apart at the end...) But you know what it's like to read something and you just have to fall to your knees, raise your fists to the sky, and cry "Nooooooooooo! For the love of Charles Nelson Reilly, NOOOOOOOO!"? That happened today, when I came across a news item about the Michael Bay produced Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning. Particularly this nugget of joy...no wait, I mean this nugget of bile-inducing info:
The story will go backward a couple of years, trying to answer questions about the character Leatherface. In this prequel, the filmmakers want to explain why Leatherface uses a chainsaw, and how his mask originated.
Umm...can I ask why we need to know why Leatherface uses a chainsaw? Wait, I'll answer that. Because that's what he fucking uses, that's why! Doesn't anyone understand anything? Huh? Don't they? I'm about to get all "Gimme the bat, Wendy" up in here, I tells ya.
Hint to modern horror moviemakers: Michael Myers was scary because he was the boogeyman. He was just "evil". He was everywhere and he was nowhere. Leatherface was a crazy dude in a crazy family that you were thankful you didn't come across...'cause, didn't the movie seem kinda real? Like, maybe that guy's still out there, twirling around with his chainsaw...?
Sheesh. If I want an explanation for why a guy would wear other people's flesh as...accoutrements, I'll watch Silence of the Lambs.
Oh, and the Charles Nelson Reilly thing will pass, I promise. I mean it this time.
Sep 18, 2005
Wanna See Something REALLY Scary?
This past Thursday I decided to take the day off from inking and do something totally and completely indulgent: I went shopping. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but I tend to spend everyday at my desk in my studio working on something- if I have no ink work, then I paint or draw or whatever. But not this Thursday! I was so determined to take the day off from "art" that I even gave my studio the finger the first time I walked by it that morning. In your face, studio! Yeah.
One of my goals that day was to buy a DVD or two, so I went to all the usual stops- Best Buy, Media Play...slim pickin's indeed. (As a sidenote, I still adamantly refer to myself as NEW to Columbus, Ohio despite having been here for 2-odd years now...and I don't know of any decent non-chain stores that would have a good selection of DVDs. If any enterprising reader is clued in, please help!) The choices in the horror section just seemed so bland. Most of this new stuff- meh. Silly antiseptic WB schlock with a heavy metal soundtrack and a twist ending. I'm not a big gore freak, so the more exploitation-y titles were out. Most of the Asian titles were too expensive for me to take a chance on, and the rest, I'd already seen. Gah! Sheesh! I scored nothin'! Well, no movies, anyway. I did end up with some pants that I really like- they're working out quite nicely so far, thank you.
But I was bummed anyway. Aren't we supposed to be in the middle of some sort of horror resurgence in the cinema? Why does it all seem to suck? I very rarely go to the theatre to see a movie- yet there was nothing on the shelves I wanted? What do I want? For the love of Charles Nelson Reilly, WHAT DO I WANT? I asked myself these questions pretty much the rest of the day. And after lengthy ruminations about horror movies AND Charles Nelson Reilly, I came to this conclusion: I want a movie that will scare me. I know, it's profound. Deep, even. It seems so simple, so why is it so rare? Why am I so seldom scared by horror movies these days? There's a million answers for that, but honestly, who really cares? Am I writing a blog or a treatise here?
I like horror movies because I like to be scared. It's that simple. The rush of adrenaline, the stomach clenching...man, I love that. It's why I say that the time I spent inside an abandoned insane asylum with a friend, taking pictures, was one of the greatest things I've done. I was scared out of my fucking mind, to the point where sometimes...I couldn't move. Bliss! It's why I always foolishly play the "Wouldn't it be scary if..." game with myself when I'm alone. Wouldn't it be scary if I heard footsteps in the attic when I was supposedly home alone? Yes, it would. Then I get all freaked out- and it's miserable, sorta...but I love it. And that's why I get bummed when I come home from a movie-hunting expedition without bagging the big game, or when I see a new movie and it just plain sucks. What hurts the most are the movies with a tiny little nugget of the good, scary stuff in 'em...and then they blow it. Like Tiffany sang, "It coulda been so beautiful...it coulda been so right..."- but so rarely does the nugget grow into a hide your face behind your hands but peek through your fingers anyway thrill. Paging Darkness Falls ...Darkness Falls, you have a telephone call at the front desk.
But let's not dwell on the bad. I'd rather dream of days past, of movies past...of some of the scariest things I think have ever been laid on celluloid (or digital something something or whatever the kids are using nowadays, daggummit...yes, I've become the old woman yelling at the neighborhood kids- "Get the hell out of my garden! That ball is MINE now!". I just need 37 more cats to complete the picture.). So what bits have scared me the most? Lock the doors, close the curtains, and look on, if you dare....mwah ha ha haaaa! Oh, and there's a chance, I suppose, for some of you to find some spoilers for movies you haven't seen. So, you know, watch out.
First of all, I realize that the focus of this blog, somewhat, is supposed to be slasher flicks. Therefore I racked my brain, trying to think of actual scary moments from slashers, and I gotta tell ya...there's a dearth, for sure. Slashers tend to be so...I don't know...unsubtle that the truly frightening stuff is hard to come by. There are exceptions, though- of course. Halloween has some moments that still send a chill right down my spine. For instance, towards the end, after Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis) has stabbed Michael Myers with his own knife and sends the kids for help. She's taking a breather, and we see Michael lying on the floor in the background...then he sits up and slowly turns his head to look at her. That one moment, owing much to the physicality of Nick Castle, the actor playing Michael- still gets me. And one of the earliest, if not the first proper slasher, Black Christmas, well, that movie still works, all the way around. It's not an extremely well-known movie, I guess, and I don't want to ruin anything for anybody. But if you haven't seen it, do yourself a favor and seek it out. It's pretty damn scary. Plus you get to watch Olivia Hussey and her shiny shiny hair for 90 minutes or so.
The first time I saw Session 9 was at the theatre, and I don't know...maybe I was expecting something else, maybe I was preoccupied with thoughts of Charles Nelson Reilly...whatever was going on, the movie just didn't work for me. I find that hard to believe at this point, however, because it's become one of my favorites (one of my "faves", for you teens out there). It does what a good horror movie should- it sets a tone, a mood that leaves you feeling uneasy. It's that feeling of dread, the source of which you can't always put your finger on- it comes from the music, the setting, even the film quality and color itself. All those planets align and you sink further and further down in your seat, just knowing it's going to get worse. The last time I watched it, it wasn't a visual that horrified me the most- it was the last two lines of the movie. Right before the credits, we can hear an audio recording from "Session 9" between the doctor and patient at the asylum. The doctor asks "And where do you live, Simon?". The patient replies, in a warbled, deep voice, "I live in the weak...and the wounded. Doc.". Creeps me OUT, homies!
Classic: Cheryl's possession in The Evil Dead. She's been...umm...raped by a tree, you see, and acting a little weird ever since- go figure. Two of her friends are playing a game- one holds up a playing card, and the other tries to "telepathically" guess what is is. Cheryl is behind them, her back turned, looking out the window- and she starts calling the cards out correctly. Then she spins to face them, and she's all 10 kinds of demonic-y gross looking. Bleh.
The Shining is another movie that sets a tone, like I was talking about. Stanley Kubrick does it so well that a simple word appearing on the screen- say, TUESDAY- can give you the willies. But of course, you all know where I'm gonna go with this. That's right, the twins. The first time Danny sees them, when he's riding his Big Wheel in the hallways of the hotel...tell me, how can two little girls, just standing there, be an image so terrifying that it stays with me to this day? "Come and play with us, Danny..."
Don't Look Now is an amazing movie that rewards repeated viewing with it's symbolism and metaphors. The ending, though, is just such a shock, it's another of those images that won't go away. Throughout the film, John Baxter (Donald Sutherland) has been haunted by a small person in a red coat, whom he believes to be the ghost of his dead daughter. He spots the figure one last time, and decides to give chase through the darkened, labyrinthine back streets of Venice. He gets the figure cornered and approaches, promising not to hurt her, he's a friend...and when he gets close enough, the figure turns to face him. It's not his daughter's ghost- it's the twisted visage of an evil dwarf lady serial killer that has been terrorizing the city- and she slashes John's throat. That reads so weird, and it is- it's gotta be the biggest, most frightening "What the FUCK?" moment ever.
I know alot of people can't stand The Blair Witch Project, and I'm not sure why. Too slow for these kids nowadays, maybe- too much buildup and not alot of payoff? Meh. I love it. I can really get into it- I find it easy to be frightened by the dark, by the woods at night. Of course the ending is scary, but my favorite moments are when our hapless film students are in the tent, trying to sleep...and they hear noises outside. The scene with the children laughing...outside your tent, in the middle of the night...phew. Oh yeah- and then those children, or SOMETHING ELSE, begin to beat their hands on the side of the tent...
The Ring gave me hope that I'm not a completely jaded, seen-it-all cynic who will enjoy horror movies less and less until I finally just give up on them completely. The movie scared me. There, I said it. I remember...now this is silly, so reserve judgment, please...I saw it in Bethlehem, PA soon after it opened. I lived in NYC at the time, but 2 friends and I drove to Bethlehem for the weekend and stayed in a hotel. The Ring was playing nearby, so we went- despite my having little faith in theatre audiences these days, we went. When I really want to see something, I tend to wait for the DVD so I can watch it at home- for less money and better atmosphere. Anyway, this theatre was packed with exactly the kind of audience I dread- teenagers. Dagummit. I figured it would be noisy, chatty, just awful. But shortly after the movie began, the theatre went silent. The horror mojo was workin', or something, and I think the entire audience was scared, as uncool as that may be. It was fantastic- and Samara coming out of the television at the end just blew me away. I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but that night, while lying there in the darkened hotel room, I started in with the "Wouldn't it be scary if...I opened my eyes and she was right in front of me?". So I kept my eyes closed. Now that's what I'm talkin' about!
Without a doubt, though, the absolute scariest thing I've ever seen- the thing I can't stand, still, is from The Exorcist. It's the subliminal face that director William Friedkin snuck in there, during Father Karras's dream sequence. It's unnamed...it's just a flash, a few frames...and it scares the hell out of me, every time. I know it's coming, so I close my eyes...but then I usually open them again, because while I hate it- I have to look. I know it's just some actor in silly makeup- I know that, I really do. Really. I can think rationally about it. But there's something about it that, honestly, makes my legs weak with terror- every time. And against my better judgment, I found a picture of it, and I'm going to post it here. I'll regret it for sure.
So what scares you guys? Ugh. I can't stick around any longer...it's that face...
One of my goals that day was to buy a DVD or two, so I went to all the usual stops- Best Buy, Media Play...slim pickin's indeed. (As a sidenote, I still adamantly refer to myself as NEW to Columbus, Ohio despite having been here for 2-odd years now...and I don't know of any decent non-chain stores that would have a good selection of DVDs. If any enterprising reader is clued in, please help!) The choices in the horror section just seemed so bland. Most of this new stuff- meh. Silly antiseptic WB schlock with a heavy metal soundtrack and a twist ending. I'm not a big gore freak, so the more exploitation-y titles were out. Most of the Asian titles were too expensive for me to take a chance on, and the rest, I'd already seen. Gah! Sheesh! I scored nothin'! Well, no movies, anyway. I did end up with some pants that I really like- they're working out quite nicely so far, thank you.
But I was bummed anyway. Aren't we supposed to be in the middle of some sort of horror resurgence in the cinema? Why does it all seem to suck? I very rarely go to the theatre to see a movie- yet there was nothing on the shelves I wanted? What do I want? For the love of Charles Nelson Reilly, WHAT DO I WANT? I asked myself these questions pretty much the rest of the day. And after lengthy ruminations about horror movies AND Charles Nelson Reilly, I came to this conclusion: I want a movie that will scare me. I know, it's profound. Deep, even. It seems so simple, so why is it so rare? Why am I so seldom scared by horror movies these days? There's a million answers for that, but honestly, who really cares? Am I writing a blog or a treatise here?
I like horror movies because I like to be scared. It's that simple. The rush of adrenaline, the stomach clenching...man, I love that. It's why I say that the time I spent inside an abandoned insane asylum with a friend, taking pictures, was one of the greatest things I've done. I was scared out of my fucking mind, to the point where sometimes...I couldn't move. Bliss! It's why I always foolishly play the "Wouldn't it be scary if..." game with myself when I'm alone. Wouldn't it be scary if I heard footsteps in the attic when I was supposedly home alone? Yes, it would. Then I get all freaked out- and it's miserable, sorta...but I love it. And that's why I get bummed when I come home from a movie-hunting expedition without bagging the big game, or when I see a new movie and it just plain sucks. What hurts the most are the movies with a tiny little nugget of the good, scary stuff in 'em...and then they blow it. Like Tiffany sang, "It coulda been so beautiful...it coulda been so right..."- but so rarely does the nugget grow into a hide your face behind your hands but peek through your fingers anyway thrill. Paging Darkness Falls ...Darkness Falls, you have a telephone call at the front desk.
But let's not dwell on the bad. I'd rather dream of days past, of movies past...of some of the scariest things I think have ever been laid on celluloid (or digital something something or whatever the kids are using nowadays, daggummit...yes, I've become the old woman yelling at the neighborhood kids- "Get the hell out of my garden! That ball is MINE now!". I just need 37 more cats to complete the picture.). So what bits have scared me the most? Lock the doors, close the curtains, and look on, if you dare....mwah ha ha haaaa! Oh, and there's a chance, I suppose, for some of you to find some spoilers for movies you haven't seen. So, you know, watch out.
First of all, I realize that the focus of this blog, somewhat, is supposed to be slasher flicks. Therefore I racked my brain, trying to think of actual scary moments from slashers, and I gotta tell ya...there's a dearth, for sure. Slashers tend to be so...I don't know...unsubtle that the truly frightening stuff is hard to come by. There are exceptions, though- of course. Halloween has some moments that still send a chill right down my spine. For instance, towards the end, after Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis) has stabbed Michael Myers with his own knife and sends the kids for help. She's taking a breather, and we see Michael lying on the floor in the background...then he sits up and slowly turns his head to look at her. That one moment, owing much to the physicality of Nick Castle, the actor playing Michael- still gets me. And one of the earliest, if not the first proper slasher, Black Christmas, well, that movie still works, all the way around. It's not an extremely well-known movie, I guess, and I don't want to ruin anything for anybody. But if you haven't seen it, do yourself a favor and seek it out. It's pretty damn scary. Plus you get to watch Olivia Hussey and her shiny shiny hair for 90 minutes or so.
The first time I saw Session 9 was at the theatre, and I don't know...maybe I was expecting something else, maybe I was preoccupied with thoughts of Charles Nelson Reilly...whatever was going on, the movie just didn't work for me. I find that hard to believe at this point, however, because it's become one of my favorites (one of my "faves", for you teens out there). It does what a good horror movie should- it sets a tone, a mood that leaves you feeling uneasy. It's that feeling of dread, the source of which you can't always put your finger on- it comes from the music, the setting, even the film quality and color itself. All those planets align and you sink further and further down in your seat, just knowing it's going to get worse. The last time I watched it, it wasn't a visual that horrified me the most- it was the last two lines of the movie. Right before the credits, we can hear an audio recording from "Session 9" between the doctor and patient at the asylum. The doctor asks "And where do you live, Simon?". The patient replies, in a warbled, deep voice, "I live in the weak...and the wounded. Doc.". Creeps me OUT, homies!
Classic: Cheryl's possession in The Evil Dead. She's been...umm...raped by a tree, you see, and acting a little weird ever since- go figure. Two of her friends are playing a game- one holds up a playing card, and the other tries to "telepathically" guess what is is. Cheryl is behind them, her back turned, looking out the window- and she starts calling the cards out correctly. Then she spins to face them, and she's all 10 kinds of demonic-y gross looking. Bleh.
The Shining is another movie that sets a tone, like I was talking about. Stanley Kubrick does it so well that a simple word appearing on the screen- say, TUESDAY- can give you the willies. But of course, you all know where I'm gonna go with this. That's right, the twins. The first time Danny sees them, when he's riding his Big Wheel in the hallways of the hotel...tell me, how can two little girls, just standing there, be an image so terrifying that it stays with me to this day? "Come and play with us, Danny..."
Don't Look Now is an amazing movie that rewards repeated viewing with it's symbolism and metaphors. The ending, though, is just such a shock, it's another of those images that won't go away. Throughout the film, John Baxter (Donald Sutherland) has been haunted by a small person in a red coat, whom he believes to be the ghost of his dead daughter. He spots the figure one last time, and decides to give chase through the darkened, labyrinthine back streets of Venice. He gets the figure cornered and approaches, promising not to hurt her, he's a friend...and when he gets close enough, the figure turns to face him. It's not his daughter's ghost- it's the twisted visage of an evil dwarf lady serial killer that has been terrorizing the city- and she slashes John's throat. That reads so weird, and it is- it's gotta be the biggest, most frightening "What the FUCK?" moment ever.
I know alot of people can't stand The Blair Witch Project, and I'm not sure why. Too slow for these kids nowadays, maybe- too much buildup and not alot of payoff? Meh. I love it. I can really get into it- I find it easy to be frightened by the dark, by the woods at night. Of course the ending is scary, but my favorite moments are when our hapless film students are in the tent, trying to sleep...and they hear noises outside. The scene with the children laughing...outside your tent, in the middle of the night...phew. Oh yeah- and then those children, or SOMETHING ELSE, begin to beat their hands on the side of the tent...The Ring gave me hope that I'm not a completely jaded, seen-it-all cynic who will enjoy horror movies less and less until I finally just give up on them completely. The movie scared me. There, I said it. I remember...now this is silly, so reserve judgment, please...I saw it in Bethlehem, PA soon after it opened. I lived in NYC at the time, but 2 friends and I drove to Bethlehem for the weekend and stayed in a hotel. The Ring was playing nearby, so we went- despite my having little faith in theatre audiences these days, we went. When I really want to see something, I tend to wait for the DVD so I can watch it at home- for less money and better atmosphere. Anyway, this theatre was packed with exactly the kind of audience I dread- teenagers. Dagummit. I figured it would be noisy, chatty, just awful. But shortly after the movie began, the theatre went silent. The horror mojo was workin', or something, and I think the entire audience was scared, as uncool as that may be. It was fantastic- and Samara coming out of the television at the end just blew me away. I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but that night, while lying there in the darkened hotel room, I started in with the "Wouldn't it be scary if...I opened my eyes and she was right in front of me?". So I kept my eyes closed. Now that's what I'm talkin' about!
Without a doubt, though, the absolute scariest thing I've ever seen- the thing I can't stand, still, is from The Exorcist. It's the subliminal face that director William Friedkin snuck in there, during Father Karras's dream sequence. It's unnamed...it's just a flash, a few frames...and it scares the hell out of me, every time. I know it's coming, so I close my eyes...but then I usually open them again, because while I hate it- I have to look. I know it's just some actor in silly makeup- I know that, I really do. Really. I can think rationally about it. But there's something about it that, honestly, makes my legs weak with terror- every time. And against my better judgment, I found a picture of it, and I'm going to post it here. I'll regret it for sure.
So what scares you guys? Ugh. I can't stick around any longer...it's that face...
Sep 14, 2005
On Bended Knee
Holy frig, has it been that long since I've updated?! Where have I been? More to the point, where am I now? It's been so long, I've got a metaphorical Crazy Person/ZZ Top style beard going on.
No, no, no. Can't have this.
OK. After a summer of inking comics and hobnobbing with the uh...nerdish, geekish elite at the cons and sneaking in a proper vacation, I'm back. How have you been?
I feel so...neglectful. The truth is, I love this blog so much that I hope someday to marry it, in a ceremony where we shall ride into the chapel atop a couple of My Pretty Ponies and exchange vows that we've written ourselves- vows that cite words such as "forever", "circle", "memories", "midgets", and "Chinese Finger Puzzle". After the ceremony, we'll head to the Knights of Columbus Hall for chicken or beef, do the Macarena, and watch in bemused horror as one of Final Girl's co-workers gets knackered, hits on the Maid of Honor, and falls on his ass during the Electric Slide, landing in a puddle of his own spilled Rolling Rock.
Or something.
But honestly, I'm super psyched because guess what arrived at my house today via UPS? A copy of the 1983 flick Curtains. Woo hoo! I've never seen it, so don't go ruining any surprises for me. I've got high hopes, as always, and I'll let you know how it turns out.
So please, take this post, this meager offering of contrition, and welcome me back. I've got my VCR all warmed up and everything.
No, no, no. Can't have this.
OK. After a summer of inking comics and hobnobbing with the uh...nerdish, geekish elite at the cons and sneaking in a proper vacation, I'm back. How have you been?
I feel so...neglectful. The truth is, I love this blog so much that I hope someday to marry it, in a ceremony where we shall ride into the chapel atop a couple of My Pretty Ponies and exchange vows that we've written ourselves- vows that cite words such as "forever", "circle", "memories", "midgets", and "Chinese Finger Puzzle". After the ceremony, we'll head to the Knights of Columbus Hall for chicken or beef, do the Macarena, and watch in bemused horror as one of Final Girl's co-workers gets knackered, hits on the Maid of Honor, and falls on his ass during the Electric Slide, landing in a puddle of his own spilled Rolling Rock.
Or something.
But honestly, I'm super psyched because guess what arrived at my house today via UPS? A copy of the 1983 flick Curtains. Woo hoo! I've never seen it, so don't go ruining any surprises for me. I've got high hopes, as always, and I'll let you know how it turns out.
So please, take this post, this meager offering of contrition, and welcome me back. I've got my VCR all warmed up and everything.