awesome movie poster friday- the LAME edition!

Ah, bad movie poster art...or should I say, movie poster art that I think is bad. We all know that not everyone in the world agrees with me on everything. We also know that those people are jerks, so whatevs.

I've mentioned some absolutely awful posters here at FG in the past, and they're just so...so... LAME that I feel the need to mention them again. Oh, Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning, how I sincerely fucking hated thee. We were doomed from the start, I'm afraid, because of your "one lonely man and his chainsaw" approach to the poster art. But you couldn't stop there, could you? You just had to take it three or four steps further with your next attempt at the "OMG Leatherface is an idiot man-child who loves his chainsaw" motif. For reals, is he gonna hug that saw and squeeze it and call it George? Seriously, I should be running from him in fear, not patting him on the head.

In other "how to, for lack of a better term, emasculate (or maybe "de-scarify") (or maybe completely fuck up) movie psychos" news...umm...what the fuck is this?


That's gotta be the least scary image of a giant, gooey zombified dude with a machete and a crispy, burned up knife-glove wielding child molester ever. It looks more like a poster for the latest Mary-Kate & Ashley Olsen "OMG one of them is a kooky free-spirit and the other is a studious, uptight nerd but they'll get into a wacky adventure and learn a bit about life...and each other! Co-starring Paul Giamatti as the stern authority figure who just doesn't get it" flick. You know, like when Mary-Kate & Ashley Olsen were nine.

Moving on, let's talk about the '90s, shall we? Or, as the decade is more popularly known, "The Era In Which The Let's Put A Bunch Of Faces Staring Vapidly On A Horror Movie Poster Because That's So Intriguing And Scary Method Was Born". I don't know why that moniker never caught on. At any rate, I blame the success of this poster style on the Scream franchise, in particular Scream 2- the poster, instead of focusing on the absolute creepiness of Ghostface, focused on the fresh-faced stars of today- and tomorrow!

From there, the ball just kept on a rollin'. Damn you, Scream 2...damn you to HELL!











NOTES:

1) The scariest thing about that Scream 3 poster is whatever it is they've done to the faces of Courtney Cox-Arquette and Parker Posey.

2) Holy crap, you can so smell the '90s on that Urban Legend poster. It smells like Noxema! And Taradise.

3) It pains me deeply to include Final Destination 2 and House on Haunted Hill here, because I love those movies with at least 86% of my heart. Those posters, however, blow. Death before dishonor! Or something.

4) My favorite people here are featured on the I'll Always Know What You Did Last Summer...Unless I Forget poster- the broad on the extreme left and the dude on the extreme right, especially her. Are they supposed to be scared? Worst scared faces EVAR.

5) Remember Joshua Jackson?

6) Okay, The Faculty, "Take me to your teacher" is a really, really bad tagline. But it reminds me of this Garfield button I had when I was a little kid; it was a picture of Garfield with a watermelon helmet and an orange wedge in his mouth, holding banana guns. He was saying "Take me to your leader or I'll atomize your face"- I wore it all the time; I thought that shit was soooo funny.

7) Remember how much Garfield loved lasagna and weekends? It sure was a lot!

8) Lame.

On Our Radar: Let the Good Times Roll!

We love when the mere acts of shopping and eating out help a community. We remember on the first Sex and the City episode post-9/11 how Carrie said it was her patriotic duty to shop downtown. That’s how we felt on our recent trip to New Orleans—we practically wanted to give our money away. As it was, the prices are SO cheap down there, it seemed to us like they were practically giving things away to us—a night at the luxe Windsor Court is only a little more than $200 and this is an Orient Express Hotel we’re talking about; our bill for margaritas and gauc was only $13 (it was happy hour), so for the first time in our lives, we left a 100% tip, and there are plenty of bargains to be found in the boutiques along Magazine Street. At the adorable Ah-Ha boutique, we got a cute, over-sized metallic clutch for only $38, which combined two of our favorite things in one must-have piece.

The bars on Bourbon Street are a little less crowded than they were pre-Katrina and you can walk into Emeril’s NOLA without a reservation, but New Orleans is still a party town. And to echo Carrie’s sentiment—it’s practically your patriotic duty to go.

Lame Week: Day 4

Proving myself to be the epitome of lame, I'm simply providing you with a link to a link, probably to another link. In situations like this, I tend to link only to the source material but this time I'd rather link to my decidedly UNlame pal JA, who lays down the skinny on that upcoming Platinum Dunes Friday the 13th remake/relaunch/reimagining/retardening:

Imagine if there was a story to be told somewhere between parts two and four, just add water (from Camp Crystal Lake, duh), insert a leaner, meaner, faster Jason Voorhees, set to "blend" and you've got the recipe for what Dunes, writers Damian Shannon and Mark Swift and director Marcus Nispel got cookin'.

As JA points out, umm...Part 3 comes between Parts 2 and 4. And yeah, Parts 2-4 take place very close to one another chronologically. I mean, is it simply going to be some sort of "Jason Chronicles"? Like, umm...Jason kills people at the camp and stuff? BAH I SAY.

Why can't they just cop to the fact that they're making Friday the 13th Part 11? Why all the smoke and mirrors? Grow some sac, Platinum Dunes!

Don't Drink and Shop!

We know you would never drink and drive, but do you know you’re just as likely to have an accident when you drink and shop? Before you laugh and scoff and think, “That would never happen to me,” let us point out how easy it is to fall into this retail trap:
*In Vegas, there are people whose job it is to conceive of new ways to get you to part with your money—and they’re good at it! Now shopping in Vegas is fabulous and you could spend weeks in the shops at Caesar’s Forum and still not get bored, BUT be particularly vigilant with your cold hard cash and Amex after you’ve had a cocktail or two. That $200 bra at Agent Provacatuer may prove suddenly irresistible.
*These same smart people who work in Vegas are starting to spread their evil talents to other cities: shopping may be the last thing on your mind as you head to Nobu in the Shore Club. But it doesn’t take reservations. You’ve probably been cocktailing before you went out and now you’re stuck with an hour to kill. What’s to do? Shop at Scoop for that sexy $150 tank top you don’t need.
*Stores are offering cocktails to you while you shop, impairing your judgment on the spot. Last time we were at Ted Baker's, we succumbed to a free cosmo while browsing and left with one slinky shirt too many.
If you do shop and drink, follow a few rules:
Set a budget. A $15 tank top that says “Off the Wagon” can be laughed off the next day. A $300+ pair of Lucite stripper shoes cannot.
Always shop with a friend. The more the better. If everyone unanimously agrees that it’s a good purchase, go ahead. If there’s even one nay vote, put that peacock patterned coat back on the rack.
Make sure you can return the item. If it’s your last night, leave your credit cards at home and take only the cash you need.
Remember friends don’t let friends drink and shop!

Lame Week: Day 3

Lots of good guessing flying around yesterday during Lame Week's inaugural "Name that crispy dude, or at least the movie from whence he came!" contest. Many of you recognized the flapping flap of Harris (Richard Lynch) from Bad Dreams (1988). Congrats, you know-it-alls!

Today, Lame Week continues. I bid you welcome to my totally macabre Gallery of Novelizations! You can hold hands if you get scared, but that's not a license to get fresh.

Cougars in Kenya

We've been hearing a lot about Cougars--women of a certain age--taking vacations to Kenya in hopes of hooking up with young men. The NY Post reported on a 64-year old British woman who showers her temporary, 23-year old Kenyan beau with gifts like sunglasses and fancy dinners. In reality, it's not that much different than an old geezer who picks up a PYT in Vegas and does the same thing, but for some reason it's cast as being so much more unsavory in this case.

We'll reserve our judgment, except to say we hope we're still getting it on when we're in our 60s and beyond (not paying for it, of course) and that we're still making time for girls' getaways--that one's a safe bet!

What do you think about "Cougars on Hunt In Kenya"?

Lame Week: Day 2

The awesomeness that is Lame Week continues! Hooray! I tells ya, if only my boss at Final Girl would give me a raise- why, then I could do...uh, Final Girl stuff all the live long day! But no, sorry to say...she's a jerk, and therefore I must continue to seek income in other places. But fear not! Whilst I'm out earning some dough on the nearest streetcorner by making comic books, I've devised a little game to keep you distracted today. I have cleverly titled it

NAME THAT CRISPY DUDE, OR AT LEAST THE FILM FROM WHENCE HE CAME!

Look how he's posed all nice, like a senior portrait. And don't you think the flapping flap is a nice touch?

HINT: I have reviewed this movie.

Sorry to be so lame, but if I don't earn another $20 by 11:00, Huggy Bear is gonna be pissed.

Pack It Up!

While we lust after the T. Anthony Rawhide leather collection--at $1,700 for the makeup case alone (shown above), we can't quite afford it or the valet we imagine required to pack such a piece of art. In the meantime, we'll stick with shopping at stores like Loehman's and Marshalls. This adorable Diane Von Furstenberg bag (shown right) is only $70 at SmartBargains.com, the online outlet for Loehman's. We've had good luck going into the stores as well. Santa, are you listening?

Lame Week: Day 1

So, listen, I'm totally trapped within an evil web of deadlines this week and I won't have time to review anything except perhaps a sandwich. However, I don't want to leave you all high and dry whilst I toil away because, as you know, I care. And so, it is born: LAME WEEK! Wherein I cram tiny little scraps of content into your gaping maws to keep you from rioting...tiny little scraps that mostly involve other people doing the hard work for me.

For example, our friends over at Bleeding Skull uploaded a trailer to YouTube that I've seen countless times- if you're anything like me (and who isn't?) once you watch it, you'll want to watch it again. Yes, it's a trailer for a film that has long been on my ABSOLUTELY MUST EFFING SEE list...I give you...THE CHILD (1977)!



"I don't have to tell you anything!" is one of the best-delivered lines in the history of ever and you know it. And excuse me..."hide and go kill"? That's a great tagline. In fact, it would make a great movie title. I guess there are 51 horror movies I'd like to see.

Isn't this post lame? Welcome to Lame Week 2007!

Celeb Spotting

The other night, JSG were at NYC's Socialista. We were hanging out at the bar when hottie Benicio del Toro walked by (he's even sexier in person, if you can believe that!). The girl to our right could barely contain herself and stared at him the whole time, while the two guys to our left started talking about how he's one of our generation's truly great actors. Now with all this attention being paid to him, we assumed our friend saw him too, or at least noticed all the commotion around us and decided we would play it cool. Unfortunately, that was not the case and she missed out on seeing Benicio in all his dark, broody sexiness in person and was angry with us for NOT getting all aflutter and pointing him out.

Would you have fawned over Benicio if you were us? What's your best celeb sighting? Did you play it cool around them?

To find out where rockers stay in NYC click here.

a holiday for some

Gooble gobble, y'all...it's Thanksgiving. For Americans.

I'm about to embark on a journey fraught with many dangers...let's call it The Quest for a Get-Together. Wine, women, men, probably no song, fake turkey, real turkey, and crappy movies. Will I return from this adventure with my mind and soul intact? I should hope so...growing up, they didn't call me "Pitfall Harriet" for nothin'*.

I sincerely wish you all a wonderful holiday...even if you're not American and your day won't include gluttony and sloth in the name of the day where the Pilgrims gave thanks and began the long process of hostile land takeover and genocide**. Hooray!

________________________________

*No one has ever called me "Pitfall Harriett".
**Yes, that's not completely accurate, but let me save you some time, anonymous, by qualifying right now that it's a joke. Is it a good joke? Meh, it's okay. Truth be told, I much prefer this one, which some people might find offensive...yes, consider that a warning: I walked in on my grandparents having sex and now I can't eat raisins anymore. Not because they're wrinkly, but because he was shoving raisins in her pussy. Happy holidays!

some of the best news EVARRRR.

I saw this tasty tidbit yesterday, but I was far too busy writing about myself to have to time to report it. But I have exhausted any and all interest I had in myself, so now the time is right to let you in on what might possibly be some of the best horror movie news you'll hear for months. MONTHS, I tells ya! Seriously, hold on to something...something like maybe your wig, for surely it's about to pop off.

Ahem.

The creative team behind Final Destination 2 is currently developing Final Destination 4.

Ahem.

Final Destination 4 will be in 3-D.

OH MY FUCKING GAWD. Two of my favoritest great tastes will soon be tasting great together. That never happens! This news is so effing awesome that I don't even care about the upcoming remakes of Friday the 13th and The Birds. This one unique, original project cancels out at least 5 shitty remakes, in my opinion.

I've been pining for a return of the deliciously fun Final Destination series (all whilst shaking my head that the Saw franchise continues to chug along steadily, but FD seemed to get no love) franchise, but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that 3-D would enter the picture. 3-D!! I fucking LOVE 3-D. Seriously, people...I'm excited about this. In fact, my metaphorical excitement boner is so huge it can be seen from outer space!

You can read more deets about the film at Bloody-Disgusting, but I'm going to point you to my pal JA's blog My New Plaid Pants for the skinny, because you should be reading it anyway.

boooooooom!

Can you sense the waves of electric excitement emanating from your computer monitor as you read this? Can you feel those waves burning your eyes with awesome? I bet you can! No, it's not late-season allergies making your eyes well up with tears...why, that's just the supreme power of this, Final Girl's

500th POST!

You're damn right it is, Charles Nelson Reilly. As the kids today might say, OMG! My Two-Year Anniversary Spectacular was decidedly less than spectacular, so I figured I'd take the opportunity presented by this milestone post to embark upon a little journey down memory lane. Grab a beer or a fruit smoothie and feel free to join me as I reminisce, and be sure to add some sweet, sweet reminiscin's of your own.

People ask me all the time*, "Stacie how in the world did Final Girl ever get its start? Did the idea come to you in a fever dream? Did you see the words "START A HORROR BLOG" spelled out in a tortilla? It's hard to believe that such a blog didn't simply fall from the heavens in a rainbow shower of sparkles, but please, tell me- I must know! "

At that point in the conversation, the inquiring mind is usually on the ground clutching at the hem of my beautiful velvet robes. I free myself, insult them somehow in a clipped British accent- I tend to use some variation on the old "unwashed masses" line- and then I get back to playing video games. Yes, in beautiful velvet robes- sitting on one's couch playing Cooking Mama** is not an excuse for unglamourousness.

Anyway, as in most things in life, the primordial ooze from whence Final Girl eventually crawled was, of all things, a comic book message board. Yes, I hung from time to time out on a comic message board...in my capacity as a "comic book inker", it was all but essential to my work. One fateful afternoon, I noticed that one of my cyberpals was displaying a link to something called Dark, But Shining. I followed the link only to discover that my cyberpal had co-founded this...website- a blog, I think they call it?...about horror movies and stuff. I was intrigued, and I became a daily reader. Eventually I noticed that Dark, But Shining had links to other sites- other blogs where people were talking about horror movies and stuff. I was yet more intrigued! "Hmm," I thought. "Hmm. Hmm, indeed." Then I thought about something else, most likely about pizza or kittens.

After a few days of "Hmm"-ing, it came to me. Pointing my finger to the sky, I proclaimed loudly "Why yes! I, too, will start one of these so-called "horror" "blogs", for I, too, love horror movies and stuff! It will be remarkable and glorious...or at least, something to do!"

I studied what all the other bloggers were doing in order to come up with my niche, if you will- say, no one was writing about slasher films! I love 'em, so I figured I'd make 'em my 'thing'. Then it was onto a name, a process which set many of my brain cells on fire. I came up with an extremely short list of possibilities and settled on Final Girl. I think it's a pretty fucking rad name, although the runner-up, Stacie Magorium's Macabre Emporium of Horror Films and Pizza, Though Not Necessarily Together! would have been swell also.

All that was left was actually publishing the damn blog, and on June 11, 2005 I did just that, jumping tentatively into the horror blog community. Though today it seems as if everyone and their mother (and perhaps even their mother's mother and her favorite afghan) are blogging about horror, it was a small circle way back when, consisting primarily of Dark, But Shining, Warrenzone, The Groovy Age of Horror, M Valdemar, Mystery of the Haunted Vampire, and Corpse Eaters; to the best of my knowledge, I may have been the only female horror blogger at the time, although I know not the secrets of my peers. Some of these blogs have gone off to that big server in the sky, whilst others have changed throughout the years- Warrenzone is now forever trapped in 150 Days of Sodom (ouch!), whilst Curt and Co. have gone Beyond the Groovy Age.

This picture has nothing to do with anything, and it's only here to break up all the text. Oh, how I've gone on!

My early posts were pretty bad- not so bad that I want to delete them, but certainly bad enough that I cringe a little and think about re-writing them. What amazed me, though- and still does, truth be told- is that people were reading my crap and commenting on it. People I didn't even know! It's quite remarkable and it's one of the things I love about writing in a blog format...I really dig the interactivity of the whole process, even when you're being a jerk- or is that especially when you're being a jerk? But seriously, Final Girl has changed my life- yes, changed my life- in ways you wouldn't believe. I've made some very, very dear friends all because of this little site, and I literally have Final Girl to thank for the direction my life has taken. I've got Major Nefarious Plans That Have Yet to be Revealed, but it's nothing like what I expected when I clicked "select your template!" a couple of years ago. Altogether now...

AWWW!

Okay, enough of the mush...let's get down to brass tacks here. You there! Take my hand and let's remember together!

I love to swear. It's true. Now, I'm not one of those people who blurt out "fuck" every other word...oh my, no. Though I may completely wrong, I like to think that I swear creatively and use blue language for emphasis and the such. It's in my blood- really, you should hear my grandmother...she'd make a sailor explode in flames from the blushin'. I agonized for approximately 15 seconds as to whether or not to use foul language here at FG, but I came to a decision on this blog's second day, wherein I discussed The Ring and how it made me realize ghosts could be scary: "That image of ghosts- that just has every hooker has a heart of gold, every ghost has a heart like Casper- was shattered when the weird kid in The Ring turned to Naomi Watts and said, "You didn't help her, did you?" What the fuck?! Samara was pure evil? Oh. Oh, no. That's not playing by the rules. That's not cool at all."

I love stunts. My first event occurred rather early on in Final Girl's lifespan: SHOCKtober! I noticed that all the other horror bloggers were doing something special during the month of October, and I so desperately wanted to be a cool kid that I figured I should do something special as well. What's that? Why yes, I'd love to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge!

I had two marathons during that inaugural SHOCKtober: I watched all of the Friday the 13th films in one sitting, and a week later or so later I did the same with the Halloween films. A few highlights:

"My God, I lost an entire day of my life to the Friday the 13th films."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"My eyes were filled with tears of hatred and anger, and they burned...they burrrrrrned...."

"No no no no no no no no no. No no no nonononononononoNO! NO!"

I'm kinda surprised I'm still around to talk about it.

My love for events could not be restrained, however, and I soon began exploring the mysterious realm known as "not October". I've had Supernatural '70s Week, Ghost Week, Children Hate You Week, Animals Run Amok Week (twice, even!), Hello, Dolly! Week, and of course, Amicus Week. Actually, I used my first theme week (Supernatural '70s) as an excuse to talk about something besides slasher films. Though my focus remains on that subgenre, I think it's okay to branch out a little, right? RIGHT?! Tell me you still love me! It's obvious, looking back, that the word "week" means nothing to me; some "weeks" are only a couple of days, while others reach the double digits. The lesson here is, I cannot be restrained by society's meanings and definitions. Don't tread on me!

I love stunts...and you! In an attempt to meld my love of the themes and my love of the FG commenters, I began the Final Girl Film Club.

Okay, I say it was attempt to meld my love of the themes and my love of the FG commenters, but we all know it's really a small part of my ongoing bid for world domination...today, I make people watch horror movies...tomorrow, I will rule the universe! If there's one thing we all know by now, it's that I'm a power monger.

Anyway, the first Film Club post wasn't really a Film Club post at all- I synched up for a flick with my pal Brennon...err, John Barleycorn...of Look Back in Anger. We both watched Strange Behavior and wrote about it on the same day, with hilarious results ensuing...as well as the idea to do it again, with more people:

I really dig this concept of synchronized reviews of movies we've not seen before, and if anyone else out there wants to join in the fun, just drop me a line. GASP! I'll call it The Final Girl Film Club! Yeah! I'll be like Oprah and her Book Club! Except, of course, I'll be cooler than she is because...again, well, who isn't. I'll be sadder, though, because I'm not a powerful billionaire who knows the cast of Friends.

In other news, I loathe that show Friends.

Begin a Film Club I did on April 2, 2006, selecting Bloody Murder...a real stinker, to put it kindly.

I must say, though, after sitting through it and ruminating upon it, I could really only think of 5 things that were really wrong with it:

1. The plot
2. The dialogue
3. The acting
4. The directing
5. The fact that it was a horror movie, yet it was never, ever even a little bit scary

We Film Clubbers have chugged our way through 12 selections, and there's no end in sight. The universe is within my grasp!

I love the funny. Sometimes, I write some funny stuff. I think this stuff is funny:

Night of Bloody Horror: "Having Gerald McRaney of television's Major Dad in a movie is one thing...having Gerald McRaney of television's Major Dad in a movie humping someone is quite another. "

Trick or Treat: "So I was like 'Umm…are you threatening me, Trick or Treat? Are you fucking threatening ME in MY house? Because I will totally whale on you like you’ve never—' but then I stopped. Trick or Treat had started to cry softly."

The Final Girl Hall of Infamy: "He looks like Gene Shalit!"

Kingdom of the Spiders: "I thought it was a nice unexpected twist when the hot entomologist finds a spider in a drawer and, instead of shrieking, calmly picks it up and puts it outside...then again, she was an entomologist, so I guess she wouldn't flip out because she saw a spider. Never mind."

Hellraiser: Deader: "I mean, tacking Jason Voorhees into the last fifteen minutes of The Trip to Bountiful and changing the title to Jason vs Gramma doesn’t properly make it Friday the 13th Part 18, you know?

On the other hand, it would make it a film I’d very much like to see."

Frogs: "To prove once and for all that there no dignity in death nor in the late career of an aged Hollywood actor, we're treated to a shot of frogs climbing all over Ray Milland's ass."

Hitcher II: "Hitcher II is pretty much the same as The Hitcher, except instead of Rutger Hauer as the psycho bad guy hitchhiker, this time around it's Jake Busey as the psycho bad guy hitchhiker. To me, this is the equivalent of going to a strip club once and seeing Angelina Jolie do a routine and then you return the following week and you see the same routine but it's performed by the mom from Growing Pains. She’s lovely and all, but the effect isn’t quite the same, now is it?"

And so on and so on. I'm gonna keep on keepin' on, because shucks, I really do love this stupid blog.

I just want to say thanks to everyone who reads this site, everyone who's commented or dropped me a line, everyone who's linked to me, and everyone who's sent me money and prezzies***. Thanks to the community of film bloggers for putting out such kick-ass content that continues to inspire me.

Yay, Final Girl! Yay, 500 posts!

But enough about me...what do YOU think about me?


Oh, that Charles Nelson Reilly. Always keepin' it real!



________________________________

* no one ever asks me
** I have never actually played Cooking Mama, but I think we can all agree that it's the best videogame name ever.
***no one has ever sent me money or prezzies! What the eff?

Happy Thanksgiving!

Hello Fellow Jet Set Girls!
We're taking the week off to celebrate Turkey Day and spend time with our families.

Annie will be in New Orleans for the early part of the week then heading over to Waveland, Mississippi, where she will be helping rebuild homes that were destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. Both her parents are from the Gulf Coast (Dad is from New Orleans and Mom hails from Mobile), so the area is near and dear to her heart.

Hope will be entertaining her friends and family at her home on Thanksgiving. Kudos to them for traveling, the furthest being her sister-in-law from San Francisco. She'll have a house full of fun, food and chaos all week- just the way she likes it.

Happy Thanksgiving! We'll be posting again on November 26, so check back then!

XOXO

Amicus Week: Day 5

You know, I'm a huge procrastinator. Heeee-yoooge. I always have been- in school, I was always waiting until the night before a test to study or some such- and in every instance, I got more and more frantic as the night would wear on and I would swear swear swear that next time I'd get things done earlier. The most egregious example, I think, dates back to my college days. I had to write some big something something about The Joy Luck Club, and- I shit you not- at about 4:30pm the day before the something something was due, I said to myself "Fuck...I'd better start reading that book." Though I was pulling my hair out, I got the something something done on time and got an A...therefore, lesson NOT learned. I guess I work best under pressure, maybe.

Or I'm just an idiot.

You might think I'm telling you all this to bore you, but I assure you that's not the case! See, I was up until 5:30am meeting a deadline for a job, though I'd had at least a good month to do it. Then, around 8 this morning- again, I shit you not- a massive flock of wild parrots raised a ruckus in the sky above my street, waking me up...and I've been awake since. You might say I'm tired. I'm blaming my tired, soft, squishy brain for my distinctly blase attitude regarding The Vault of Horror (1973), an anthology film I probably would have enjoyed much more had I been not so...vegetative whilst watching it. I shall, however, muster the strength to write up a review...for you see, I live by a code of honor and dignity.

Vault of Horror has got a wraparound story that's so dull and uninspired, that honestly, it's virtually pointless. Five dudes get in the elevator of an office building, but they cannot control where the elevator goes! It stops in the subbasement and that's that. The men walk out into an area that looks like "a club"; since they're stuck there with nothing better to do, they decide to...gasp...sit and talk!



And so they tell each other about these dreams they've had that seem...that seem so real! These dreams go on when they close their eyes...every second of the night, they live another life. These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside; every moment they're awake, the further they're away! There's something out there...they can't resist!

Sorry, just channeling the Wilson Sisters a bit there. Anyway...

MIDNIGHT MESS

Rogers (Daniel Massey) goes searching for his sister Donna (played by his real-life sister, Anna Massey- spooooky!). He finds her in a weird town whose denizens are afraid to be on the streets at night, because "they come out in the dark". It's no joyful reunion for the sibs, however; Rogers informs Donna that he wants the family inheritance all to himself. You know what that means- let's say it all together: Rogers makes with the stab-stab.

Don't worry- he'll get his. After brutally killing his sister, Rogers heads to the only restaurant in town that stays open after the sun goes down. Things are a little kooky at said restaurant, but by the time Rogers is hip to the goings-on it's too late! Yes, too late does he discover that this is a restaurant catering to a town full of vampires! Vampires sporting the worst fake fangs and drinking the worst fake blood evarrrrr. I mean, awesomely bad.

That's Donna back there, decidedly NOT dead. Yup, Rogers's sis is a vampire, too, and she joins everyone else by feasting on the chef's special that evening, her brother. There's an infamous edit at the end of this segment, wherein a shot of and upside-down Rogers gasps while vampires drain his blood via a spigot crammed in his neck is darkened to the point of obscurity. It's too bad, really- it'd be a wonderfully ludicrous ending to a wonderfully ludicrous story.

THE NEAT JOB

Critchit (Terry-Thomas) marries Eleanor (Glynis Johns), the daughter of a friend. She's a good 20 years his junior, but they both seem okay with settling for a less-than-ideal marriage; he wants someone to take care of him, and she basically had no other prospects.

Things go swimmingly until Eleanor moves in. Critchit's bachelor life has made him rigidly set in his ways; he's gotten used to having everything just so, and when, say, Eleanor moves his magazine rack, it's just about the end of the world. Critchit's motto, after all, is "A place for everything and everything in its place".

One fine afternoon, Eleanor begins to frantically straighten up the house- Critchit will be home in fifteen minutes, and he's apt to go apoplectic if he sees his records out of the cabinet! The more harried Eleanor gets, though, the worse her situation becomes. She knocks things over, spills things, breaks things...and yeah, Critchit flips out when he sees the damage she's done. He begins repeatedly screaming at her "Can't you do anything neatly??", and then Eleanor flips out and proves to her husband that yes...yes she can, in fact, wield a hammer quite neatly. She also seems to have a knack for organizing body parts quite neatly- who knew?

Oh, and...worst fake eyes and teeth evarrrrr.

This was, I think, my favorite story of the bunch. I was, as they say, tickled. Unfortunately, I wasn't quite as enamored with the rest of the segments. Alas, alack.

THIS TRICK'LL KILL YOU

A husband-and-wife magician act visit India in the hopes of finding some spectacular new trick they can bring home for their act. They encounter a street performer who does the standard "put a person in a box, then run the box through with pointy things" and "put a pointy thing through your face" gags, claiming that he can use all those pointy things because the gods are protecting him.

The magician husband calls fraud and reveals how the tricks are done, right there in front of the audience. Not cool, magician husband...not cool at all. I mean, there's, like, a magician's oath and shit.

As he's still searching for that ultimate trick, the magician husband comes across a young lady doing that play the flute, the snake comes out of the basket trick. No, that's not a euphemism. Wait, snake charming, that's it! Except instead of a snake, it's a rope rising from the basket. Mr Big Shot Spoil Sport Magician Husband can't seem to debunk this trick, and he offers to buy the rope from the young woman. She explains that there is no trick- the rope is simply magic, and she won't part with it for any price as it's a family heirloom. This leaves Mr Big Shot Spoil Sport Magician Husband with only one alternative- no, not simply accepting this answer, ceasing to be a douchebag, and continuing his search for new tricks. He's practically forced into killing the girl and stealing the rope! Stupid family heirlooms.

He lures the girl to their hotel room, kills her, and tries the trick out for himself. The rope, however, ain't havin' none a dat and promptly kills wifey and hubby in a fun sequence replete with whip sounds. Take that, douchebag!

BARGAIN IN DEATH

Honestly, Bargain in Death was such a brief time waster, I don't much feel like wasting more time recounting it here. But you sure can be a demanding bunch, so I'll give it to you, all short-like.

2 dudes hatch an insurance scheme, in which one of them will fake his death by taking drugs that slow his heartbeat down so it's undetectable. 24 hours after he's buried, his partner will dig him up and they'll split the insurance money.

As can be expected, they double-cross each other and both end up dead. The only highlight for me occurred in a car crash sequence- I simply adore it when a car barely taps a tree or something and explodes. Really- it's one of my favorite things in cinema.

DRAWN AND QUARTERED

By far the longest segment at about 20 minutes, Drawn and Quartered concerns Moore, an artist (a wicked-bearded Tom "Dr Who" Baker) who's been financially dicked over by his agents and an art critic. It seems they were pulling a "buy low, sell high" deal with his paintings, and now Moore wants revenge.

Conveniently, Moore is currently painting on some island where all his revenge needs can be met: he simply has to go "buy some voodoo"!

Moore discovers that the voodoo spell has given him the power to create art that bears real-world results; for example, when he places a piece of bread on the floor and draws it- then erases a corner, a rat shows up and chomps the corner off the real-world bread. Nifty!

To enact his fiendish scheme, Moore paints portraits of his three enemies, then defaces or destroys the paintings in some way...bye bye, enemies! Unfortunately, Moore has also been working on a self-portrait...a self-portrait he can't guard all the time...

Drawn and Quartered has a great last five minutes, but a good portion of the rest of it is simply fat that could have been trimmed; there are countless lengthy sequences where we watch Moore paint or draw, and I swear, the fucking constant tribal bongo drum music just about drove me mad. Mad, I tells ya, enough that I was considering going out and buying some voodoo of my own.

Oh, yeah, so...that wraparound story. The dude are all dead and every night- for all eternity!- they must get together and tell these same stories to each other as punishment for the bad, bad things they did in life. Wakka-wakka, the end.

This is pretty much the end of Amicus Week as well...I've got some more titles coming from Netflix, but they won't be here for a few more days. Mayhaps I'll pick up and bring you Amicus Week 2: The... the... umm... the...

Dammit, I'm tired.

Oh, and if you're wondering about that Dramatic Chipmunk, blame it on Piper and his Lazy Eye Theatre. I don't think I particularly used it in some new and different way, but I'm not firing on all cylinders. And naming five bloggers to do the same? My brain is so gelatinous right now that I can't even count to five, let alone name five people. 1...2...842375...

See?

Hands Free

As you’ve probably read in _____________ (insert the name of your favorite fashion magazine here) the clutch is THE bag of the season. We love them because they’re easy to tuck under our arm leaving one hand free to hold our vodka and soda and the other to flirtatiously touch a guy on the arm or flip our hair back over our shoulder. Plus--they’re flat which makes them super-easy to pack.
We’re digging this faux-patent version from the Gap. It’s as skinny as a runway model, but, thankfully long, so we can don’t have to chose between taking out our cell phone and our lip gloss—both fit! Nothing makes us happier than shiny red one—seriously, red shoes and bags always make us smile. It also comes in white, so fresh and space-agey and a black version that is classic Audrey Hepburn. At $24 a pop, we can afford all three!
Buy it online here.

The Friday Evening News

ITEM!

Bloody-Disgusting reports that Senator Pictures have once again pushed back All the Boys Love Mandy Lane, and now the film has a release date of "May". Keep it up, Senator, and I'll have to push back your face!

ITEM!

It's Week 73 of The Horror Blog's Roundtable. This week, it's all about taglines. Thrill! as you discover that I can never seem to answer a question succinctly.

ITEM!

Adam Ross dropped me a line to inform me that actor Michael Blodgett- "Lance Rocke" of Beyond the Valley of the Dolls- has died at age 67. RIP, Jungle Lad...today I'm drinking the black sperm of sadness.


ITEM!

I fucking love Beyond the Valley of the Dolls.

On Our Radar: The Orginial Jet Set Girl

Thomas Jefferson said Marie Antoinette was "devoted to pleasure and expense." Regardless of whether you think she was a romantic heroine hopelessly misunderstood as interpreted by Sofia Coppola or hopelessly out of touch with the masses a la our current president, or a little of both, Marie Antoinette is a fascinating woman. We'll be on line tomorrow a.m. at the San Francisco Museum for the opening day of Marie Antoinette and her vacation home, the Petit Trianon at Versailles.

Petit Trianon is the home given to Marie Antointette by King Louis and became her personal retreat. (In Sofia's movie, it's also where Kirsten Dunst had an affair with hottie, Jamie Dornan.) Her redesign of the posh home included over the top touches like mirrored blinds, fireplace ornaments of goats eating grapes and chandeliers with Cupid's bow and arrows. The grounds included a Temple of Love, a theater and a Merry-Go-Round. We're starting to see Thomas's point.

This is the first time many of the objets have left France. With the Euro trouncing the dollar, we recommend you see them on this side of the pond while you can--now until February 17.

awesome movie poster friday- the AMICUS edition!

...or, "Holy crap, that's a lot of posters!" Yes, today is a mega-super-packed edition of Awesome Movie Poster Friday, and it's true- their posters are as awesome as their movies. Amicus Week continues tomorrow!