"You're all going to die down here..."

Hold on to your pants, 'cause I've got some shocking news for you: someday, you're going to die. Don't worry- we all are...yes, even me (most likely). Now, this is not something we humans especially enjoy thinking about. In fact, it's only by ignoring our inevitable expiration dates that we can function on a day to day basis. In other words, it's good to have a touch of that "I'm fucking invincible!" attitude, lest you spend your days curled up in a corner alternately sobbing, fretting, and pondering the great beyond.

I'm not saying that one shouldn't reflect now and again, don't get me wrong. Isn't that why some of us watch horror films? To safely experience death? That's what people say, anyway, and maybe it's partially true. After all, it's good to be aware of The End, 'cause maybe that awareness will make you appreciate The Now. Isn't that what everyone always says after some sort of tragedy? "Wow, 10 zillion people died in that natural disaster halfway around the world. It really makes you think- I could die at any moment! I'm totally going to carpe fucking diem!" While the intentions may be honorable, however, folks tend to carpe fucking diem for a few days at a time max- then it's back to bitching about the weather, making fun of other people's clothes, not calling one's friends and family, playing "me first!" in the parking lot, staring at the TV, or spending hours writing on some horror blog. It's natural- if you actually lived every day as if it were your last, you'd probably be exhausted.

This is all an overly-effusive introduction to what's perhaps a banal question: What's the least pleasant type of horror movie death? Let's figure that out. See, it's almost fun to talk about death within the confines of fakery and fantasy, whereas the reality of death is, you know, a drag. To wit:

• death by Ebola: possible, drag
• death by zombies: most likely impossible, fun

Incidentally, I think that being torn asunder by zombies whilst alive would really really suck, and that's what gets my vote for the worst. Weigh in with your votes in the comments, and then go for a walk.

OW.

VHS Week, Day 3: Demon of Paradise

As you may have noticed, I review a lot of movies here at Final Girl. Some of these movies are made of awesome, some are made of lame...this is to be expected. You take the good, you take the bad...you take them both and there, my friends, you have the facts of life. It's a rare film that crosses my path, however, that is so bad that I want to go back in time and stop myself from pushing play on the VCR. Even more rare is the film that makes me want to go back in time and stop myself from seeing the movie on the shelf...or further back in time so I can stop the filmmakers from beginning production. Or even further back so I can prevent the filmmakers' parents from having "intimate" "relations" so I can ensure the film will never get made.

This is how I feel about the 1987 Creature from the Black Lagoon wannabe Demon of Paradise.


Blah blah blah legend of prehistoric underwater lizard-man Akua blah blah oh no, he's really real blah blah blah let's follow the standard animal attack movie formula: we can't cancel the annual Parade Festival blah blah blah the scienceologist will save the day blah blah fucking blah.

Trust me, that description is way more exciting than what happens on screen. What happens on screen? NOTHING. So much nothing that when I looked over at one point and my viewing pals were asleep, I thought that maybe I was actually the one who fell asleep and I was having the most boring dream ever dreamed.

Let's take a look at some of the things I wrote whilst taking notes for this review:

• Reporter = die, please
• nothing happens. nothing happens some more. badly acted nothings happen.
• music = horrendous, always inappropriate
• more nothing happening = kill myself
• testing my resolve as a human being to overcome adversity and boredom
• why won't it end?
• hell = this
• when will it end?
• PLEASE END

Finally, it did end and I was left feeling like I'd just completed ten tours of 'Nam. Demon of Paradise was so bad then when the credits finally rolled I nearly went apoplectic, ranting and flipping it off so hard I'm surprised my middle finger didn't explode. There's no doubt that in those few moments, I could have legally been deemed a fire hazard- such was the white-hot intensity of my rage. I'm only shocked that lasers didn't shoot out of my eyeballs.

Oh, how Demon of Paradise angried up my blood! Why did Satan himself have to shit this movie into existence? Why did I have to see it in the 3-for-$5 bin at Video Hut? Why did the filmmakers not realize that a man in a rubber suit popping up out of the water every once in a while to wave at people off camera does not induce terror? Why did it have to be so boring that I couldn't even laugh at the waving monster?

Clearly, Demon of Paradise hates me as much as I hate it.

Originally, I didn't even want to bring the tape home with me: I really, really don't want this movie in my house. Since last night, however, I've reconsidered that stance and I think some good may actually come from this steaming pile of dook.

Some outreach program should take Demon of Paradise to all the Ebola clinics of the world and show one-minute clips to patients. Then they can say "See, Ebola patient? Your internal organs are liquifying and your face is being eaten away, but at least you don't have to endure the other 86 minutes of Demon in Paradise!", to which the Ebola sufferers will say "Hooray! I may have Ebola, but clearly my life could be a lot worse!"

navel-gazing

So I got "tagged" with another "meme" by two "bastards", Dr Criddle and Squish, wherein:

1. First, those tagged must explain the rules, as I am currently doing.
2. Secondly, share no more or less than eight facts about yourself.
3. Thirdedly, tag eight of your unsuspecting blogger friends, who are thereby contractually bound by law to do the same. If you do not comply, you will be fed to the crocodiles.

Normally I avoid these meme things as if they're walking Ebola pies- not to mention that I keep Final Girl pretty personal-life free, but today I'm feeling a curious combination of laziness and magnanimity, so why the eff not? Besides, it's nice that people want to know eight things about me (thanks, ya bastards). Let's see if I'll have any readers left after revealing these Fantastamazing Eight Facts.

1. One of my rock star dreams (don't we all have at least one?) is to be the woman who sings back up on Black Oak Arkansas's's's's "Jim Dandy". I have no idea what she looks like for real, but in my dreams she's a total skank who does nothing but chain smoke, chug Wild Turkey, and sing "Jim Dandy" in cut off jean-shorts and some tassled t-shirt.

UPDATE: Oh. My. GAWD. Awesome reader pal Theron tracked down a picture of this woman and...well, see for yourself how close I was in my assessment. Call me Nostramuthafuckingdamus! Ladies and gentlemen...Ruby Starr!


2. When I was in 1st grade, my class took a field trip to the beach. I was collecting rocks and shells and stuff, and I found this one amazingly cool-looking rock that I was sure was a moon rock or a miniature meteorite or something- I couldn't wait to show my parents! When I got home and pulled the moon rock out of the bag, my mom said "That's an old peach pit! It's garbage! Throw it away!" Thankfully my child-like innocence recovered quickly.

3. I have this weird phobia thing about wet, loose hair- and I had it even before J-Horror hit it big. It's just gross, especially if it's not mine. Let's put it this way: should I ever be summoned to Room 101 of the Ministry of Love, there'll be some sort of device awaiting me that holds the contents of Kenny G's shower drain.

4. I don't know why, but when I get really happy/excited about something, I tend to cry...not like wailing and pulling my hair, but...you know. I shed a tear or two. Still, it can be embarrassing, like the time I cried when I went to the circus.

When I was 30.

5. When I worked at Large Chain Bookstore in NYC, I was bookseller to the stahs, dahling! I sold fondue cookbooks to Heather Locklear, VC Andrews books to Sarah McLachlan, and I helped Sigourney Weaver pick out some fiction for a friend. The only person I actually said "Hey, I like your work" to, however, was Amanda Plummer. Oh, and this one time, I answered the phone and the person said "Hi, who's this?" and I replied "This is Large Chain Bookstore."...she said "I know, I mean, who's speaking?". I totally hated giving my name out to customers, and so for some reason I blurted out "This is Juice".

6. Someone should nominate me for What Not to Wear because my wardrobe is in a sad, sad state at the moment- when I moved recently, I only took enough clothes to fill a single large suitcase. It was an amazing show of control and prowess at the time, but now I have no clothes and I'm too poor to buy nice new things. And I don't know how to dress myself. I mean, I understand the concept of dressing myself, like, I'm not walking around with pants on my head wondering why everyone is looking at me all funny. I mean, I'm not sure exactly what I want to wear. Another reason to nominate me is that I think Stacy London is the shit.

Not that I watch TV.

7. Despite (or because of, maybe) my life-long penchant for watching horror movies, I have led quite a nightmare-free life. I remember, when I was maybe 2 or 3, walking past a movie theatre advertising It's Alive. The image on the poster scared me so badly that I could hardly sleep that night and when I did drift off, I had bad dreams. And once when I was in college, I dreamed that a homicidal midget dressed up like Where's Waldo? was chasing me around campus with murderous intent. But those are the only nightmares I remember at all.


8. I can juggle, 3 items max. I'm self-taught! It's not as handy a skill as you might think, however.

Whew. I'm glad that's over with. I know I'm supposed to "tag" some more people, but...crocodiles be damned, this meme- much like the cheese- dies alone.

Wait, the cheese only stood alone. Meh, whatevs.

Don't you feel so much closer to me now?

Children Hate You Week: Day 2

It's been years since I've seen Children of the Corn (1984) and I honestly don't remember much about it beyond this:

-Linda Hamilton! Peter Horton!
-I hate Malachai! He's eeeeevil!
-Wow, this movie is kinda cool...no, wait. Like many Stephen King books/movies, it starts out cool and scary and then...there's a big monster at the end that's not cool or scary. Dammit! (Yeah, It, I'm looking at you...evil clown who lives in the sewer and kills children? Mind-bogglingly terrifying. Giant spider that can be killed by a slingshot and some hope? Mind-bogglingly terrifying...in 1951.)

There must be some mega-CotC-fans out there, however, because there's an entire series of CotC films- seven freakin' movies! That's on par with Michael, Jason, and Freddy...who knew? This being Children Hate You Week, I felt obliged to watch at least one flick from the series. As I'd only seen the first one, I decided it didn't matter which one I'd take in for stunt week...they're all likely to be stinkers, right? So I chose the one with Naomi Watts, Children of the Corn IV: The Cornening Gathering (1996), figuring that even if the movie was a total waste of time, at least there'd be some pre-Ring, pre-Mulholland Drive Naomi Watts action. With my expectations grounded decidedly at zero, I watched the movie...and lo, something magical happened.

The movie was...kinda...good.

It's a Christmas miracle, a couple of weeks late! Let's hold hands.

Naomi Watts is Grace, a medical student who's taking some time off from school to care for her immediate family. Upon coming home to Corn County, Nebraska, Grace finds that her mother June (Karen Black at her frizzy best) is about to go off the deep end- her agoraphobia is becoming increasingly crippling and she's plagued by nightmares that feature weird children trying to kill her.

Now that Grace is saddled with caring for a cuckoo nutso mother as well as her two younger siblings, she's in need of some dough. Our Grace is nothing if not plucky, however, and she takes a job helping out at the local doctor's office/clinic.

Faster than you can say "ebola", all the children in town are stricken with a mysterious flu; their temperatures flare up over 105 degrees and they begin to convulse with powerful seizures. Grace and Doc Larson (William Windom) scramble to find a cause and a cure for the mysterious illness, but faster than you can say...uh, "ebola" again, the children are fine. Their temperatures return to normal and all is well in Corn County.

OK, so all is NOT well. A shadowy figure has crawled out of a well and is wreaking havoc in Corn County: not only is he killing people with farm implements, he seems to wield some sort of mind-control on the children. Soon enough, they're killing people with farm implements as well!

This is where CotC IV really surprised me. The movie is rated R and with good reason- the blood flows liberally and the camera doesn't shy away from the gore. There's nothing too over-the-top, but I did let out an "EWW!" or two during the proceedings. Lemme tell ya, in the battle of farm implements vs. body parts, I'd put my dollars on the farm implements.

Just who is this mysterious figure from the well, and why are all the town's children suddenly gathering in the cornfield (Oh my god..."gathering in the cornfield"! I so bet that's where they got the title for this movie!) at his behest? Grace gets her Nancy Drew on and visits Ye Olde Towne Crones, who willingly fill her in on the story of Josiah, The Amazing Boy Preacher and all the dark secrets of Corn County. Will Grace put an end to Josiah's evil ways and save Corn County, Nebraska...and the world? I'll never tell!

It's true, movies like Children of the Corn IV: The Gathering are what keep me going. Against all odds, a random direct-to-video horror flick- fourth in a mediocre-at-best series, even- comes out of nowhere with an intriguing, original story that's spooky, serious, and makes sense. It's got decent acting (I mean, Naomi Watts and Karen Black, y'all!), cringe-worthy effects (I mean the good kind of cringe-worthy- you know, the kind that makes you hide your face), and children who really do hate you. Movies like this restore my faith...hey, there are good horror movies out there waiting to be seen! Sometimes zero expectations are the best expectations. I give it 7 out of 10 "I can't believe I ate the whole thing!"s.

in absentia

Sorry I've been quiet and October fizzled out. Here's a list of possible excuses...one of which may actually be true! I'll leave the decision up to you, however, so as to cater to all your needs and keep you entertained and guessing:

- tennis elbow
- major candy corn/tequila bender
- simple chronic halitosis
- achy breaky heart
- my house has been overrun by mallet-wielding, snowsuit-clad dwarves (I'm posting from my hiding spot in my crawlspace...sshh! They might hear me!)
- ebola
- I've been runnin'...against the wind
- my time machine is complete and I've been hanging out with Claire Bloom in The Haunting
- my transporter machine is complete but something went wrong and I now am a horribly disfigured creature to be known heretofore as PonderFly
- I cloned myself because I'm really busy and I thought the clones could help me get shit done but all they do is sit around playing video games
- my hair got caught in an escalator and I've only just been extracted

That should keep you occupied for a while. Keep reaching for the stars...my ebola will clear up in a jif. Not that I have ebola, maybe, but it's on the list.

O death

Are you old enough and/or hip enough to know Bad Company?

Feel like makin' lists! (do do DOOO do do DOOO do do DOOO)
Feel like makin' lists! (do do DOOO do do DOOO do do DOOO)
Feel like MAKIN' LISTS FOR YOU!

At the risk of sounding like a complete sociopathic whackjob, today I present to you a list of my favorite slasher deaths. Frankly I feel a bit strange ranking death scenes in terms of "awesomeness", but once you take a gander at my choices you'll get an idea of what I'm talking about. Regular old stabbings and chokings are so blah! I mean, strictly Dullsville, you know? I appreciate those folks who think outside the box when offing their hapless victims. A little creativity goes a long way with yours truly, and thus you won't find any run-of-the-mill butcher knives on this list, homie.

Do I need to add a disclaimer that...you know...death by any means in real life is bad and...umm...don't try these at home? No? Good. Then without further ado, and in no particular order, I give you:

THE BEST SLASHER DEATH SCENES (ACCORDING TO ME, ANYWAY)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

Ah, romance. A bearskin rug, a little wine, a roaring fire...that spells nookie, son! In most cases, anyway. In Happy Birthday to Me, however, the romance only leads to DEATH! Death by MEAT KABOB! Mmm! Now that's tasty!

AMERICAN GOTHIC

I discovered American Gothic during my Shocktober! madness, and I totally fell in love with the twisted story of a murderous family living on an island and partying like it's 1929. The highlight for me is undoubtedly the swingset sequence. Franny and Woody, siblings who act as if they're children but are, in fact, not a day under 40, are pushing visitor Rob in a swing:

Whee! Doesn't that look like fun? What a pretty day! The sky and the water are so blue! Life is awesome! Eventually, Woody climbs to the top of the swingset and cuts the rope with an axe...and it's bye bye Rob. Talk about whee!

FRIDAY THE 13th PART 3

Friday the 13th Part 3 is a notable entry in the film series because it's the one where Jason dons his infamous hockey mask. It also appeared on the scene during the big 3-D craze of the early 80s- in addition to this movie there was also Amityville 3-D and Jaws 3-D, to name a couple. Filmmakers needed to push the 3-D effects to the max and give the audience good reason to wear those ridiculous paper-and-cellophane glasses the movies required. In Friday 3, characters point alot of things at the camera: pitchforks, spears, yo-yos, even a joint. The best use of 3-D effects in the flick, however, comes when Jason squeezes this poor dude's head until his eyeball pops out and flies directly at the camera. It's still an over-the-top shot when seen today on DVD (in only 2 lousy dimensions), but I remember seeing it at the drive-in while wearing the requisite glasses and the whole place went absolutely crazy.

FRIDAY THE 13th PART VIII: JASON TAKES MANHATTAN

The last Friday movie I saw in a theatre, Part VIII, is undoubtedly one of the worst entries in the series. It's a big, dull, waterlogged mess of a slasher. I find it tedious and virtually unbearable, really. All is forgiven, however, towards the end when it's Jason vs Cool Kid Boxer in a rooftop punching match! Cool Kid Boxer punches Jason over and over and over, pummeling his head and stomach until Cool Kid's knuckles are all bloody from the effort. Jason takes every blow and doesn't seem to be feeling any effects whatsoever. Cool Kid Boxer wears himself out and can't swing anymore, at which point he taunts Jason with "Take your best shot!" Faster than you can say Pat Benatar, Jason swings...and punches the dude's head clean off. This single shot manages to redeem the other 90 minutes of stinking poop comprising this movie.

HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH

So this isn't technically a slasher...but it's in a series of slashers and I love it, so there you go. "I love it"? Wait, doesn't everyone hate Halloween III? Sure they do, but not me, Charlie! Yes, it's a really, really bad movie. Really. Really bad. But it's also one of the finest examples of 'so bad it's good' out there, and because of that I've taken Halloween III into my little ol' heart. Besides, it's got Tom Atkins, and you just can't go wrong with Tom Atkins. This movie does NOT feature Halloween psycho Michael Myers, which is the major problem most people have with it. John Carpenter envisioned a series of Halloween movies that didn't center around Michael Myers, but rather centered around the night itself. I think that's a pretty good idea, but people wanted their beloved Michael back onscreen. And did I mention that Season of the Witch is really bad? Anyway, my favorite moment in a movie filled with favorite moments is what happens to some poor lady in a hotel room. She's screwing around with a Silver Shamrock logo, which has fallen off a mask she bought earlier. The logo looks like it's got a little computer chip on it or something- what could that mean? She starts poking it with a bobby pin, and suddenly...

ZZZZAP! She gets shot in the mouth with a fucking laser. It's unexpected, it's ludicrous, and the results are grody to the max. Dude. Gross me out the door.

SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT 2

Speaking of zap (and no, I'm not talking about the American Gladiator, unfortunately), how 'bout that Silent Night, Deadly Night 2, eh? When obnoxious preppy Chip makes a love connection with his car battery (courtesy of psycho Ricky), I get sensation not dissimilar to that I get when I bite into a York Peppermint Patty.

Of course, no discussion of SNDN 2 would be complete without mentioning Ricky's ingenuity as he claims a victim by gettin' Mary Poppins all over the guy's ass...wait, that sounds dirty. Ah, well. He does get...anyway. It's rainin' pain, my friends!

GRADUATION DAY

Lordy, lordy is Graduation Day a bad movie. Not good bad...just bad. It was torture to sit through it during Shocktober!, but I will forever and always treasure its one shining moment: ladies and gentlemen, I give you The Football with a Sword Attached. Catching it can be harmful to your health...kinda like catching Ebola. But pointier.

SLEEPAWAY CAMP 3: TEENAGE WASTELAND

O Angela, my Angela. It was so difficult to choose which demonstration of your handiwork to include in this list. Should I include the cheerleader strung up and dropped from atop a flagpole in Part 3? Or maybe the chick drowned in the outhouse in Part 2...but then there's the Shit Sisters from that movie as well, burned alive, still clutching their bottles of Jack Daniels...it's been tough deciding. Ultimately though, dear Angela, you won me over early on in Sleepaway Camp 3 when you travelled to New York City and stole a garbage truck to run over your victim. And the way you were dressed just like her when you did it so you could take her place at camp? I mean, right down to the wig! That kind of stunt takes time and planning, and you did it, girlfriend. Kudos, Angela. You rock!

And yes, you can totally tell it's a dummy that gets run over. Icing on the cake, my friends...that's just icing on the cake.

There you have it, folks. Those are the deaths that somehow fill me with giddiness, however wrong that may be. I'm not a sicko, I swear. They're just so over-the-top that they make me smile. And now...

HIDDEN BONUS TRACK!
That's right! Just for you, I've compiled a bonus mini-list:

WAYS I REALLY WOULD NOT LIKE TO DIE

I would most sincerely not enjoy being boiled alive like so much human cabbage. It's quite a popular way to off people in slasher movies, though, so I'm worried it might one day happen to me. Just look at these methods, and see if you don't agree:

Boiled in a hydrotherapy tub, courtesy of Michael Myers in Halloween 2:

Boiled amongst the hot dogs*, courtesy of Harry Warden in My Bloody Valentine:

"Boiled" in a vat of dry ice, even if it looks like I'm on the set of a music video for a Power Ballad by some 80s hair band, a la Pranks:

And finally, while the idea of being boiled alive is highly unappealing, I find there's a method of death much less appealing, and it comes courtesy of David Cronenberg's The Brood. I would not- repeat, I would not- like to be bludgeoned to death by screaming, snowsuit-clad mutant dwarves, especially not in front of a room full of kindergarteners. How embarassing.



*Anyone who boils their hotdogs instead of frying or grilling them is a jerk.

A Very Special Final Girl

Hello, I'm Stacie, Your Ship's Blogger, and I'd like to introduce you to my

100th post!

Yes, dear readers, we've come a long, long way since June. I'd like to say that I have something spectacular planned for today, but I'm afraid I don't, sorry. I fear I got all pooped out today tackling my new venture- something I've been dying to tell you all about but managed to keep mum about. What new venture? Well, I'm branching out, ma! That's right, just like an Ebola-riddled Paris Hilton, your humble Stacie is spreading herself around, infecting others...namely the readers of a little website called Pretty/Scary. If you're not cool and in the know, then lemme tell ya- Pretty/Scary is the premiere website on the Information Superhighway on horror, for women and by women. Information Superhighway is italicized to emphasize my loathing of that term.

A while ago I got an email from site co-founder Heidi Martinuzzi about this here little blog o' my heart. One thing led to another and now she's having my baby I'm writing a MONTHLY COLUMN for the site! I'm really, really excited about the whole deal and most grateful for the opportunity. My first column hits tomorrow, so be sure to check it out if you're into horror, women, or any combination thereof. While this certainly doesn't mean I'm a real live journalist or anything, I have begun to incorporate "Whatta scoop!" into my vocabulary, much to the annoyance of everyone around me.

Oh, and incidentally, I just figured out out to do that cool strikethrough thingy with the font, so expect that to be popping up alot around here. I love it! Call me 1997.

I'm sure I'll remind you whenever I've got a new column going up, but you should definitely check out the site regularly regardless. You'll find interviews, articles, other columnists, forums, reviews...and while the site is geared toward women in horror, you're welcome even if you're an 'outie'.

I feel like I won a fucking Oscar or something, but I need to thank all the people who read my ramblings regularly and who comment often and make this enterprise so much fun.

Yay! Group hug...except you over there- you're a little grimy. Eh, what the hell. Group hug everybody!

Gaze into his scary, waxen eyes...behold his meaty lips...thrill! to his chiclet teeth...and rejoice!