SHOCKtober: My Heart List

Who can get enough lists during SHOCKtober? Not any of us! By "any of us", mind you, I mean me.

Sure, I posted my Top 20 list several moons ago...but I've been thinking. It feels...insufficient or something, particularly after I posted Buzz's list and Amanda's list. My choices, while they truly are my favorite horror films, seem so staid. So typical! Halloween? The Exorcist? Bitch, please. Yes, I love them like I love...things I love, but even so, I can't fight this feeling of lack I've had since I wrote down numbers 1-20 in my wide-ruled spiral notebook. My list lacks! JA over at My New Plaid Pants knows of what I speak. So I figured- hey, I can either let this feeling continue to irritate me like an itch I can't scratch, or I can pull down my pants and scratch away. I say scratch away. Scratch away, one and all. Tomorrow we think of ointments and unguents and salves, but today, my friends, we scratch.

Mmm, that got weird. The point is, this new list! It's a list of movies I heart- movies that may not be are not good, but I heart them all the same. There's even a couple that I've seen but once and upon that once, I did not like the movie. Yet here they are, for reasons that are beyond me. I didn't like them, but now I think back on 'em and...well, they belong on this list. Life, she is mysterious! Okay, without further ado...because if there's one thing Final Girl needs this month, it's another fucking list!

As always, clickin' titles take you to reviews.


A Nightmare on Elm Street III: The Dream Warriors (1987, Chuck Russell)

I think the big secret of this movie is that it stinks, but we all pretend like it doesn't. Okay, it doesn't stink, but there's some corny-ass shit going on this movie- this cannot be denied, although we all pretend that it's not corny. That's totally okay, though, since the cornballs are all balanced out by some seriously creepy moments. Love.




Pieces (1982, Juan Piquer Simon)

I recently had the absolute pleasure of watching Pieces with someone who'd never seen it before, and lemme tell you- that's the way to see it! Unless you're the person who's never seen it, in which case I'll be right over with my copy. I want to be a Goodwill Ambassador who travels the globe clutching my battered Pieces tape, spreading gore and good cheer- not only so I can revel in the amazingness of this film, but so I can watch others revel in the "That doesn't make any sense!" of it all.



Killer Workout (1986, David A. Prior)

Killer Workout (aka Aerobicide, which is all sorts of title perfection) is a terrible, terrible film. I know, a slasher set in a health club seems like a can't-lose idea, but this movie proves it can lose. That is, it can lose its way right into my heart! Countless scenes (often repeated) of women shaking their lycra-covered parts, men who all look the same punching each other and running each other over with sports cars, club owner Rhonda sneering her way through life, tanning booth accidents, a soundtrack by Donna DeLory...Killer Workout has it all and then some. Part of that "then some" includes the picture of Marla Maples aerobicizing on the VHS tape cover. Delicious!

Shower of Blood (2004, Tiffany Kilbourne)

This abomination of a film features horrible acting, horrible writing, horrible foley work, the least sexy sex scene ever, computer graphics straight outta the Sega Saturn, and, in perhaps my favorite moment, the same model of Brother word processor I used in college masquerading as a 911 call center computer. It is...amazing. I adore this movie. Heidi Martinuzzi wrote a review for Pretty/Scary back in the day that will tell you everything you need to know so you don't actually have to sit through it, although you should because it kind of needs to be seen to be believed. Just don't see it alone! Not because it's so frightening, but because it's the type of misery that's best when shared. By the way, spoiler alert: Heidi will also be talking about this movie in her forthcoming Top 20 list.

Amityville IV: The Evil Escapes (1989, Sandor Stern)

AN EVIL FLOOR LAMP. THAT GOES OVER A CLIFF. AND EXPLODES. What more do you need to know? Take one part exploding evil floor lamp, add some Patty Duke-i-tude, and that, my friends, is a recipe for heaven.







Birdemic: Shock and Terror (2008, James Nguyen)

Going to see Birdemic in a theater will provide you with one of the most fun experiences you will ever have, unless you're immune to the very notion of "fun" or "theaters" or "going". I am just saying. As bad as you think this movie will be? It will be worse.






Graduation Day (1981, Herb Freed)

You know, I really didn't like Graduation Day the one and only time I saw it...but then when I think back on it, I can't for the life of me remember why I didn't. Even reading my negative review- it just sounds awesome! I think back to the football-with-a-sword-attached, and what's not to love? I think back on the roller skating scene and how there weren't enough skates for everybody so some people essentially just ran around in a circle, and I want to give this movie a hug. Huh.



The Child (1977, Robert Voskanian)

Whenever The Child comes to mind, I hear the horrible, horrible dubbed voices of the movie in my head- in particular that of young Rosalie shouting "I don't have to tell you anything!" If you haven't seen this fim, then you probably won't care about that, but there you go. It's not an entirely uncreepy, ineffective film, but it's definitely a 12-pack of coulda beens. What it IS, however, is dementedly delightful.




Dolly Dearest (1991, Maria Lease)

Dolly Dearest is so good- like we'd expect anything less from a horror movie released in 1991. Chucky can go screw- DD is where it's at. Girl power! You know, I figure the offensive maid stereotype I employed in In Satan's Closet is okay because it's an homage to the offensive maid stereotype in Dolly Dearest (and Devil Dog: The Hound of Hell). Troof.





Shark Attack 3: Megalodon (2002, David Worth)

I admit: sometimes I think I'm falling out of love with Shark Attack 3. I KNOW, RIGHT? How could this be? I'll tell you how: it's because the first hour, if not more, is almost unwatchably dull. Seriously, it's really tough to get through. I introduce people to the film and I find myself saying "Just wait...just wait...JUST WAIT!" and finally the payoff is beyond worth it, but man. You can only take the first hour so many times before your eyes start to wander. Look, I'm just being honest here. I mean, it's here in my heart list and I think it always will be, but it might not have all of my heart anymore. We're just growing in different directions, which is no one's fault- or maybe it's Shark Attack 3's fault, because of that first hour. Keeping it real, that's what I do!

Face of Evil (1996, Mary Lambert)

In a word, I give this movie ten metaphorical boners up. It has everything I love: bodies in suitcases, made-for-TV-ness, Shawnee Smith in a Blossom-style '90s bowler hat, Perry King with an awful ponytail, deception, artists doing art, murder, Tracey Gold, Tracey Gold, and Tracey Gold. My one regret in life is that when I met Mary Lambert, I wasn't clutching my copy of this (WHICH I BOUGHT AT THE GROCERY STORE) for her to sign. NOTE TO SELF: Always carry Face of Evil with you.


Eyes of a Stranger (1981, Ken Wiederhorn)

From my review: "A tracksuited Lauren Tewes as that old slasher flick staple, the mouthy anchorwoman in peril? Jennifer Jason Leigh as a blind-deaf-mute? Head in a fishtank? 1981? Yes folks, Eyes of a Stranger has it all, including the best strip club routine EVAR." 'Nuff said.






The Manitou (1978, William Girdler)

My one regret in life is that I let someone borrow my DVD of The Manitou, and now I don't hang out with that person anymore, so basically I gave away my copy of The Manitou. Yeah, it's replaceable but picking up a new copy...ehhh, I fucking hate replacing stuff I used to have. When I get the urge to watch a naked Susan Strasberg shooting lasers from a hospital bed that's floating in space, I want to watch it now. Hold on to your copy of The Manitou and hold on to it tight!




Mausoleum (1983, Michael Dugan)

Corn teeth. Demon boobs. Unique weather systems. Marjoe fucking Gortner. La Wanda Page, who seems to think- or, perhaps was told- that she's in a comedy. Man, Mausoleum lives the kind of life that I want to lead!







Rumplestiltskin (1995, Mark Jones)

Now, I know I've mentioned my love for this movie pa-lenty of times here at Final Girl. It's currently available on Netflix streaming, and I know that some of you have checked it out because I've mentioned my love for it and now you're caught up in a web of what the fuckery because it sucks. It does suck, and please, bear in mind this warning: I know not from where my affections for this film arise. They cannot be explained. Believe me, I've tried math, physics, and even a course in the Psychology of Motivation & Emotion from Life University to solve the mystery, and it simply cannot be solved. A human centipede made of Jessica Fletcher, Columbo, and Encyclopedia Brown could not solve this mystery! Like time itself, it just is. Here's the deal: I really kind of hate Rumplestiltskin while I'm watching it because as I mentioned, it sucks. It's just bad. Okay, the scene with the remote-controlled car posing as a real car is awesome, but otherwise it's a terrible movie. Yet...and yet! As soon as it's over, I find myself thinking about how awesome it is and that I should watch it again, and if anyone should ask, I'll tell them it's the best movie ever. AND I'LL BELIEVE IT. So I watch it again, and I'm all, "This movie sucks! Except the RC car part." and the cycle continues. I'm experiencing a moment of clarity right now, so I'll tell you: Rumpleskin (typo that stays) sucks, please don't watch it. I also feel myself wanting to tell you, however, that it's the best movie ever...so run away now while you still can! You know how when you're playing Mass Effect and you're on Noveria and you fight Matriarch Benezia and she has that moment where she's all, "Wait, I'm not a total bitch! That was just because my mind is under the influence of Saren! Here's the info you need. I'm being helpful!" and Commander Shepard is like, "You're hurt! Come with us and we can save you!" and she goes, "No! My mind is not completely my own and it never will be again AND NOW I KILL YOU!" and you fight again? This is like that. My mind will never be completely my own again. RUMPLESTILTSKIN RULES!

Bug (1975, Jeannot Szwarc)

Carnivorous cockroaches who can fart fire and spell things. If you need any more than that, then you need HELP, friend.








Cathy's Curse (1977, Eddy Matalon)

Earlier today I decided that I kind of just want to watch Cathy's Curse every day forever and ever. I haven't started yet, but it's on my to-do list, for sure.

Day 5: "I've never felt like this before."

It's a wonder to me that Mausoleum and I have both been walking this planet since 1983, yet last night marked the first time we'd crossed paths. Approximately three minutes after I started playing the DVD, I realized that I'd found my one true soulmate. It doesn't matter where Mausoleum has been all my life- the important thing is that we've found each other at last, and we're now destined to walk the earth together!

Whilst visiting her mother's grave, li'l Susan decides she no longer wants to live with her Aunt Cora. She takes off running through the graveyard, stopping only when she hears someone whisper-singing her name. She peeks inside one mausoleum, but then spots another one across the way that's far more interesting in that it features its own weather system.

She enters the crypt, which is all lit up in greens and purples like the finest Spencer's Gifts. We learn that this is the tomb of the Nomed family...yes, NOMED. That's some seriously Nilbog shit, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, a clawed hand rises from the sarcophagus, things that defy explanation happen, and Susan's eyes light up all green and make a laser noise. The girl done went and got herself possessed!

Fast forward! Susan is now all grown up- she's portrayed by ex-Playboy Bunny Bobbie Bresee and she's married to Marjoe fucking Gortner. A charmed life, you say? It's easy to assume so, but there's a dark side to this fairytale existence! See, a woman of Susan's...err, attributes finds herself constantly subjected to the lechy gaze of creepy weirdo peeping tom gardeners and creepy weirdo Dan Haggerty-esque disco patrons.


All Susan wanted to do was go dancing with her husband (yes, Marjoe fucking Gortner disco dances!), but that Dan Haggerty-esque jerk made it so difficult that she was left with no choice but to use her magic green gaze to set his car on fire while he was locked inside.


The next day, the creepy gardener makes a bold pass at Susan while her husband is at work- her eyes get their green on and we know it's time for some demonic justice! But not before we bear witness to an eerily silent montage that clues us in as to just what, in fact, a gardener does with his day after making a pass at his employer:

He puts down fertilizer!

He mows the lawn!

He reads whilst eating lunch!

He takes a nap on the dock!

He sharpens his axe...

...and uses it!

Finally, Susan gets around to launching Operation: Get Back At The Grope-y Gardener: she strolls out onto her balcony wearing only a towel, then sips Riunite as if she's straight from a Jackie Collins novel.

Okay, in reality that's only Phase One of her plan. She continues the seduction approximately 9 hours later, when it's pitch black outside...insert helpful moon shot!

Susan's plan includes actually sleeping with the gardener- boy, this really teaches him a lesson! He suggests they partake in another round, but instead, Susan does her green-eyed thing, turns into some sort of a monster, and kills him with a garden implement. Okay, I guess that really teaches him a lesson.

Soon enough, Susan's victims don't actually have to trespass against her in order for her to unleash the NOMED lurking inside. Poor Aunt Cora, for example, shows up for a visit only to find herself floating around and killed dead thanks to her monsteriffic niece.



One person spared Susan's wrath is Elsie the maid (LaWanda Page...yes, Aunt Esther from Sanford & Son!). Intended as comic relief, Elsie is, in fact, a whopping slice of politically incorrect pie. Yet while she's given to saying things like "Great googily moogily!", Elsie is a rarity in that she's a black character who makes it 'til the end of the picture. When faced with a green fog emanating from Susan's bedroom, Elsie admits there's "Some strange shit goin' on in this house!", yells "No more grievin', I'm leavin'!", and splits.

There's so much more to Mausoleum, but I don't want to give away the whole package, as everyone should be allowed to discover it for him- or herself. Director Michael Dugan has truly given the world a gift! However, a few highlights:

- Susan undergoes hypnosis where she reveals her NOMED nature and corn teeth!

- There's the use of the term "facial fantasy"
- Dialogue includes "Yes...there's a history of possession."
- When possessed, Susan's depravity has no limits- she steals art from the mall!
- Something happens- I cannot reveal what it is, for you must witness it with your own eyes, but suffice it to say, it causes Marjoe fucking Gortner to pull what can only be called a Ridiculous Face of Pre-Death:

- While Mausoleum makes no sense as a whole, the very last shot of the film is so illogical that it actually defies the laws of science and mathematics. Even if you've never seen the film, your guess as to what the fuck is going on here is as good as mine:

- Then we get the end credits, which feature a tender song called "Free Again", written and sung by Frank Primato. It boasts lyrics like "Let's blow the fire dead...that's burning in my head..." and it's every bit as dreadful as you think it would be.

In case you haven't guessed, Mausoleum is a terrible, terrible film. The acting is horrendous, the dialogue atrocious, and the timing between the players is so off that every scene comes across like rejected audition tapes. There's a charm to Bobbie Bresee, but it's one borne of a performance that feels bathed in quaaludes. The sound is awful, as if there's a muted coffee pot percolating somewhere just off camera for the duration of the film. The direction is all but incompetent at times with dull compositions, pointless zooms and pans, and bizarre insert shots. The end of the film, featuring the "exorcism" (I use that term wicked loosely), takes 20 minutes but should only take seven. The creature effects, by genre vet John Carl Buechler, are '80s-style cheesy.

All of that is true, but oh how I loved this movie! I never wanted it to end, ever. On a scale of 1-10, I'd honestly rate it infinity. Lawd help me, it's true- the depths of deliciousness achieved are face-rockingly limitless. Forgive me, Shark Attack 3: Megalodon...step aside, Pieces...there's a new love of my life, and its name is Mausoleum!

Film Club: The Food of the Gods

Dear Diary,

I know, I know, I KNOW! Please don't get all "up in my grill", LOL, but I've done it again. I went and jumped in whole hog (does that make sense? LOL) before I knew what I was getting myself into and now I'm sitting here nursing a cup of coffee and a broken heart!!!1!! I should know better and you're probably rolling your eyes and being all "I told you so" because we can count the number of times this has happened to me on 24859 hands. But how does that saying go? Better to have loved and lost than something something something, right? Right! But let me tell you about my night and what happened. Oh, and I need to write down that "easy layered tomato dip" from the back of the Wheat Thins box before I forget! Note to self: right write it down, it looks deelish although I should stay away from so much cream cheese LOL.

Anyway. Okay, so, I remember the first time I heard about Food of the Gods (1976) and I got sooo excited! I think I was at a party or something, or maybe somebody said something? Anyway (again, LOL), but seriously, I was like "Giant animals running amok? Ida Lupino? Marjoe fucking Gortner?" I think I'm in love!", like I was crushing soooo hard. Then I saw FotG in the store and I read the DVD case and I was crushing even harder, so I was like, why don't we move in together?

See? I know what you're thinking. Why do I go so fast? Why not wait it out with a rental or a Netflix or something, why am I just, like, automatically pledging myself forever and making a move-in commitment right off the bat when it so rarely works out? Does nothing ever go right for me? I feel so Cathy, LOL!

So last night, things were going so boss that I was all, okay, yes! This movie is so definitely the one, because let me tell you, FotG was really turning on the charm.

See, there was this island where Mr and Mrs Skinner found this porridge-fall in the woods, right? And they were such stupid country folk that they thought it was oil, despite the fact that the stuff looks nothing like oil. Then they figured out it wasn't oil, and so they figured "Well, since it's not oil, we're not going to get rich off it. Might as well feed it to the chickens!" which is pretty dumb, right diary? I mean, there are lots of things in the world that aren't oil, but that doesn't make those things appropriate to feed to chickens, LOL!

This magic porridge is The Food of the Gods, yo. When youngsters eat it, it makes them big. And I do mean BIG! Like I said, at this point in the evening, FotG was pulling out all the stops to get me to fall in love. Marjoe fucking Gortner was this football player who visited the island and straight off he battles a giant rooster (he wins by the way).

His friend is attacked by a bunch of big wasps that are totally plastic models and I was all, "Yessssssss!"

Some big rats attack Mr Skinner when he's on his way home and the scene alternates between regular rats on a model VW and giant fake rats on a regular VW and I was all, "Rock on!"


Food of the Gods was all "Oh yeah, this is my friend Ida Lupino- watch her get bitten by some huge maggots" and I was, like, "Okay, I am SO GLAD we moved in together, FotG. You get a t-shirt with my picture on it, and I'll get a t-shirt with your picture on it, and then we'll wear them when we go on dates, and then we'll get married!"

I know it seems extra-fast to be talking marriage when I'd only known Food for about 25 minutes, but come on! It was totally sweet and it understood me like no one's ever understood me before. We really connected, you know? Like when there was another wasp attack, only this time it featured the worst special effects I've ever seen in any movie in the history of ever! Like, these were totally wasps made out of cellophane or something- they were totes see-through- and then they disappeared in puffs of black smoke when they got shot. I was so happy I wanted to get a cellophane wasp tattooed on my face- that's how in love I was. And I meant it!


But then...I don't know, diary. Something changed. Food of the Gods was all "It's time for the humans to fight back!" which is okay, I mean, I'm a human and I don't want to get stung to death by giant wasps, even if they are see-through, LOL! But what happened was, rats started getting hurt...like, real rats, getting...I don't know, shot and drowned and stuff and it was REALLY UPSETTING. I couldn't even look! Seriously, I had to turn away during all the fight scenes, because I knew that when Marjoe fucking Gortner busted out a shotgun, rats were really going to to get blasted and it just wasn't cool.

I swear, it was like Food of the Gods had turned into Ted Bundy or something! Like, how can someone so charming and attractive turn out to be so eeeevil? I felt duped, and I was like, "I don't even know who you are anymore, FotG," and I mean I really said that. You should be proud of me, diary! I said, why not shoot fake rats? And Food was like "I dunno", like it couldn't even come up with an excuse. So I said, maybe we shouldn't live together anymore, and then Food was like "Wait wait wait, what about this?" and then Ida Lupino had a fight to the death with a giant fake rat and they die together like this:

I swear, I almost caved in! But I held strong and I said no! You can't just do one little (admittedly awesome) thing and expect me to forget all the bad things you did...I think you should go now. Diary, it was like I was living in that Whitney Houston song that goes "It's not right, but it's okay, I'm gonna make it anyway" it was so cool. I felt great about it, even though I felt bad about it because I really wanted things to work between me and Food of the Gods and I'm trying not to be depressed about it because I really felt like we were a perfect match- and most of the time, we were. If FotG hadn't turned out to be a homicidal maniac, I'd totally be getting that cellophane wasp tattoo right this second. But alas, alack, it is not to be. I know in the end it's not my fault, but right now that's a small comfort. Next time, I won't jump in so fast! I know, you're all, like, "Yeah, right!" LOL. Oh, and before I forget:

8 oz cream cheese spread
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 small tomatoes, chopped
1/3 cup green onions (*note: maybe substitute regular onions?)
1/4 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
some WHEAT THINS

MIX cream cheese and garlic
SPREAD onto plate
TOP with onions, tomatoes, cheese
SERVE as dip with CRACKERS

Hugz-n-stuff,

FG

________________________________

Film Club Coolies, y'all!

Comedy Double Standards
Freddy in Space
Full Moon Reviews
Evil on Two Legs
Zombie Cupcake
Acheter et entretenir sa tronconneuse (c'est French, ca!)
namtab
Club Silencio
Bloody Good Horror
Horror Film Magazine
Friend Mouse Speaks
StinkyLulu
Gorillanaut
Celeberrimous
Awesomeness For Awesome's Sake
I Am Spartickes
My New Plaid Pants (finally!)