Silent Hill: Descent Into Update

Now, I don't usually post about every little tidbit that comes down the line when a film is in production. First of all, it can quickly escalate into a massive landslide of useless information as PR firms try to keep a movie's name on the tip of everyone's brain. Second, Final Girl may be many things (one of those things is even good!), but it's not a horror news site. Third, aren't numbered lists great? Fourth, I try to ignore most of the production news when it comes to movies I'm going to want to see, like...oh, say Silent Hill: Revelation I'm Leaving Off the 3D Part (Although I Just Mentioned It There, in a Way) Because While I Never Thought I'd Say It, I'm a Bit Over 3D. You know, to minimize expectations and spoilers and so on. But! I just got a press release about how the one and only Carrie-Anne Moss has joined the cast of Silent Hill: Revelation and so I thought I'd pop in here to say:

Carrie-Anne Moss has joined the cast of Silent Hill: Revelation.


Yes, yes, when you think of Carrie-Anne Moss there's The Matrix and Memento and you know, Fido was quite entertaining. However, in my awesome opinion, what's most important is that she was part of two of my favorite things in the history of ever, namely Mass Effect 2 and OF COURSE...Models, Inc. Now she's part of Silent Hill, another of my favorite things. I am so Team Carrie-Anne Moss that I should perhaps consider making (and subsequently wearing) a t-shirt that says I am so Team Carrie-Anne Moss on it.

The point is, this is sweet news, and while I was greatly looking forward to Silent Hill: Revelation, now I am even more looking-forward-y.

Oh yeah, and now Malcolm McDowell has been cast in SH: R as well, but...you know. Meh. It's not like he was on Models, Inc or anything.

SHOCKtober: My GD Top 20

I received numerous- and I do mean numerous as in "consisting of great numbers", from the Latin "numerosus"- lite complaints about how got-danged difficult it was to come up with a Top 20 favorites list. 20 seems like a large enough number, but you're talking about your favorite genre, 20 ain't nothin'. It was part of my plan all along to include a list of my Top 20 and let me tell you, my friends- I feel your pain. I wrote down a whole bunch of titles without thinking much about it- basically, whatever favorites popped into my head immediately- and found that I had written over 30 of them. Then came the culling and man...it was tough.

I didn't want to put any parameters on my selections; I didn't want to leave a movie out because it's a typical Top 20 choice. I didn't want to include something simply because it's a "classic" and it's "good". If my list consisted of 11 Friday the 13th films and 9 Nightmare on Elm Streets, so be it (it doesn't). When narrowing it down, I eventually took to comparing titles in pairs in a head-to-head cage match for a place on the list- which do I like better, this...or that? The winner made the list, the loser stuck in runner-up land. It really was not easy, and on paper my list is a mess of scribbles and crossings-outs and writes and re-writes. I look at it here and I feel pretty good about it, but then I can hear Let the Right One in banging on my door, crying "Let Me In!"...SEE WHAT I DID THERE.

These aren't in any particular order. I've written about most of these movies before- some so many times I really don't have anything groundbreaking to say about them here. Click the links if you want to know more, whether it's a review or my willies list or scenes I love or some such.


The Exorcist (1973, William Friedkin)

This is one of those "Well, it's such a typical list choice, I shouldn't choose to list it" movies, but you know...fuck that. It's a masterful study of religion and man's place in the universe as well as a parable about puberty.

Oh yeah...and it's terrifying.

For me, it remains one of the very few movies I'd rather not watch alone with the lights off. It still gets under my skin, after all these years; I never seem to get desensitized to it, and that's a very good thing.

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974, Tobe Hooper)

This move is so damn powerful and so damn important to the genre that it's still regularly ripped-off more than 30 years since it was made (seriously, if I never see another "crazy family dinner scene" again, I'll be happy).

It was made with little money under excruciating circumstances for the cast...and it's in the permanent collection of the Museum of Modern Art, which...I don't know. Proves something or other, I'm sure. The low budget quality gives the film its infamous verité feel- countless people have wondered if what they're watching is real. Yes, those people are gullible to the point of stupidity, perhaps, but there's no denying the snuff-like, almost forbidden quality of TCM. Leatherface remains one of the scariest, most fucked-up movie monsters ever to grace the screen, and Sally Hardesty remains one of the most resolute final girls. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre remains a slice of cinematic perfection.

The Shining (1980, Stanley Kubrick)

For me, The Shining is a gift that keeps on giving. When I was but a wee bonny lass, the more obvious hallmarks were the things that kept me up at night: the Grady sisters, the axe through the door, the water-logged dead woman. Over the years, those scenes and images remain some of my favorites, sure, but every time I watch the film I have a new favorite thing, a new favorite scene or moment- why, right now, I'm all about the symmetry and Shelley Duvall. Oh, and the poster above Dick Halloran's bed. And the score. And Danny's sweaters. And...


Friday the 13th: Part II (1981, Steve Miner)

Even among horror fans, the Friday the 13th films have the reputation of being a bit scuzzy, a little sleazy, and the generally the least that the genre has to offer. They're pretty stupid, the characters are paper-thin at best, and they amount to little more than teenagers and assorted weirdos getting butchered in increasingly ludicrous ways by a maniac who shouldn't even exist. You know, I can't really disagree with any of that, but it doesn't prevent me from having a Friday the 13th-shaped place in my heart. Perhaps it's largely due to nostalgia, having grown up with a few years' worth of Fridays; perhaps I don't care. Part II, wherein a sack-wearing Jason Voorhees takes up the machete to avenge his mother's death is, to my mind, a quintessential slasher flick.

Martyrs (2008, Pascal Laugier)

I know- I keep talking about this film without ever really saying anything substantial. One of these days I swear I'll give Martyrs the write-up it deserves (or, I suppose I should say: the best write-up I can give it), but now is not the time. Thought-provoking, horrifying, moving, astounding- this movie knocked me on my ass the first time I saw it and while I was sure I'd never want to watch it again, I couldn't stop thinking about it. The next thing I know, I was watching it again. The second time around, it knocked me on my ass again for reasons far beyond the violence and brutality...but that's all for some future post. Ha!

The Descent (2005, Neil Marshall)

Lawdamighty, how I've gone on and on about this movie. What else is left for me to say? I fucking love it, so here it is in my Top 20 favorites. End of story.







The Blair Witch Project (1999, Daniel Myrick & Eduardo Sanchez)

From my review: "All my gushing isn't to say the film is perfect- it's far from it. There are "plot holes", if you will, that you can fly a broomstick through (hi, the map incident, anyone?). But ultimately, I'm a big fat scaredy baby when it comes to things that go bump in the night- and in The Blair Witch Project, they're making noise right outside your door. And I don't care what you say- you know the last 10 minutes of this movie...the 10 minutes in the fucking house- rock your face off."

Yup. Still feel that way.

Day of the Dead (1985, George Romero)

Wait...what? I'm listing Day? Day of the Dead, when Dawn and Night are out there? Yes. That's exactly what I'm doing. Of Romero's original undead trilogy, Day gets the least amount of love from fans and dammit...I think it deserves more. It's got humor, but it never really sinks into outright silliness the way Dawn does. Sarah makes for an interesting- if not always likable- heroine. There are the director's patented Bigger Ideas at Play going on, of course, with all those "who are the real monsters here?" Army a-holes. The film predates CGI core and features some of Tom Savini's best FX work- of particular note is the shot of a gut full of guts sliding out and falling to the ground with a nauseating splash. Then there's Bub, and the shot of all the zombies descending on that massive cargo elevator- bitchin'. Yeah, everyone yells a lot and that's irritating, but big deal! Maybe I love Day so much because it was the first zombie movie I was really allowed to see. Big deal! This is my list, not yours, so choke on 'em! Wow, why am I getting so touchy about this? Must be all that yelling. It...affects a person.

The Evil Dead (1981, Sam Raimi)

I don't worship at the altar of Bruce Campbell and I've never even seen Army of Darkness- but goldurnit, I fucking love The Evil Dead. I originally saw it Once Upon a Time, and let me tell you- the absurdity and humor of it were completely lost on me. None of it was funny to me, not one bit, and it scared the hell out of me. A possessed Cheryl trying to break out of the cellar, pencils stabbed through ankles, the dead not staying dead, claymation faces melting away...what's not to love? Well, maybe the raped-by-a-tree scene, but still.


Halloween (1978, John Carpenter)

Halloween is also a quintessential slasher flick, if not THE quintessential slasher flick. It rises so far above all of its subgenre siblings, though, thanks to the sublime direction of John Carpenter, the entirely believable performance by Jamie Lee Curtis, the timeless, terrifying score, the faceless evil of Michael Myers, the--eh, I could go on and on, but why bother? If you've never seen Halloween, I'm not sure what you're doing here. I mean, welcome and all, but you've never seen Halloween? Really?



The Silence of the Lambs (1991, Jonathan Demme)

Plenty of people say this is not a horror movie. I think it is, and it's also one of my favorites, so voila. You know, I'm totally the type of person who says the Academy Awards are worthless when I find they're not bestowed on the films or actors I think they should be in a given year (I'll never stop bitching about Ellen Burstyn losing to Julia Roberts- never! I'll be complaining about that on my deathbed)...but man, Silence sweeping the Oscars was so very, very right. So right. In every respect, this film is a masterpiece- and I'll be damned if you can find a more feminist piece of filmmaking in all of horrorland. In related news, I've seen this movie a zillion times, but it wasn't until my most recent viewing that I noticed George Romero in his cameo role.

The Thing (1982, John Carpenter)

THE monster movie. THE. THEEEEE. Seriously, the creature FX work of Rob Bottin blew my little mind and continue to do such to my larger mind. Let's face it, it's gross. The horror goes deeper than that, however, as The Thing becomes less about The Thing and more about isolation and paranoia. And beards. The minimal cast is impeccable, the locations stark, the humor black, and the hero undeniably cool and oh-so-Carpenter. There's a prequel in the works and while I'll reserve judgment until I see it, at night the wind whispers "C...G...I...creeeeaaaturessssss" and I cry.


The Haunting (1963, Robert Wise)

There are many, many fantastic ghost stories out there, but The Haunting is simply my favorite. I summed it up as such in my review: "Four people, each in their own way wanting desperately to be accepted and to belong, staying in one very, very bad house." That's it. The film taps into that primal fear of childhood- the fear of the dark, of the things you can't see that go bump in the night. Besides being a terrific pull the covers up to your chin kind of movie, The Haunting is also a compelling character study of loneliness. Heartstopping and heartbreaking. I love love love this movie.


Salem's Lot (1979, Tobe Hooper)

THIS WAS MADE FOR TV. That statement, once and for all, proves that the old days were better. Seriously. Social networking, hybrid cars, iPods, microwaveable macaroni and cheese...fuck 'em. There were horror movies made for TV 30 years ago that are leagues better than theatrically-released horror movies of The Now. What's going on in made for TV horror today? Syfy bullshit. Yes, we all get a chuckle, perhaps, out of Sharktoface vs Octosaurus, but come on. In the old days, we had Salem's Lot. The end.

I love the melodrama and the slo-oo-ooow build of Salem's Lot. I love that Mr. Barlow descends upon the town like a plague, infecting it long before we ever see him. I love how GD scary it all is, for vampires are so very often not scary at all- from Mrs. Glick's resurrection in the morgue to Ralphie floating and scratching in the fog outside the window to Barlow himself (only Nosferatu looks more horrifying), it's simply a big pile of fang-riddled greatness.

[REC] (2007, Jaume Balaguero, Paco Plaza)

I was not expecting [REC] to come out of nowhere like that and punch me in the face with two big fists of awesome. I was not expecting a film to come along 10 years after The Blair Witch Project and make P.O.V. horror fresh again- fresh, and maybe better than it ever was. It's fast and bloody and startling and a relentless, extended jump-scare...then Balaguero and Plaza slam on the brakes with a finale that had me holding my breath and gave me nightmares. Yup, unexpected. Yup, awesome. Yup, a favorite.



28 Days Later (2002, Danny Boyle)

This Romero-zombie-trilogy-in-1 film has more heart, really, than all three Romero zombie flicks combined. Yes, 28 Days Later revitalized the zombie genre (it did, whether you think the rage-infected folk are actually "zombies" or not); it sparked the "running zombies" controversy that continues even to this day in the hearts, minds, and mouths of horror fans everywhere (it did, whether you think the rage-infected folk are actually "zombies" or not); it's a top-notch scary movie, straight-up. What sets it apart, though, is, as I mentioned, the heart of it all. There are countless touches throughout that put some meat on the bones of this thriller- from the goodbye note left by Jim's parents to the echoes of 9/11 in the countless "LOST" postings to the first time Selena smiles to Frank blowing a kiss to the horses running free, the movie draws you in and you suddenly find yourself invested and caring without knowing much about anybody.

Here's something, though- whenever a list of "kick-ass horror chicks" or something equally inane comes along, why is it that Selena is so often overlooked? Hmm? What a great character. Remember her, won't you, and put her alongside your Ripleys and your Ginnys.

The Fog (1980, John Carpenter)

Fog is scary. The Fog is scary. Now that the deep, philosophical ruminations are out of the way...

I heart this movie so much that I hearted it in the I Heart...series. The list of reasons why I love is too long to go into here, so you'll have to click if you want to read 'em. Or maybe the fact that it's here is good enough for you and you don't want or need to read more. I don't know. I don't live your life.



Creepshow (1982, George Romero)

Hey remember when I was just talking about Creepshow recently? Uh huh. I talk about Creepshow quite often. I can't help it. I want to be buried with a copy of Creepshow. Then I want to claw my way out of the ground, clutching it. Then I want to watch it again.

Adrienne Barbeau and Tom Atkins in the same movie. All the other awesomeness of Creepshow aside, those two people guarantee it a place on my favorites list.


Session 9 (2001, Brad Anderson)

This movie about the evil that lurks within all of us is also a damn scary psychological haunted house flick. Chilling and atmospheric, Session 9 seems spare on the surface but rewards repeat viewings.







Candyman (1992, Bernard Rose)

This movie is just so damn good. It's gory. It's terrifying. And, as I said in my review, "More than sheer visceral thrills, however, Candyman works so well because it's a film that's got something to say: it's a meditation on racism, classism, fame, inner city economics, crime, and the power of myth. It's a very smart movie." So there.





PHEW! There they are, my GD top 20. No one in the history of ever has struggled as greatly as I struggled to produce this list. EVER. As I said (and as you'd expect), this list came out with scars. Some dear movies were lost along the way, and I'd like to pay tribute to those casualties right now- those movies that I love but crossed out, those that bubbled under the surface, begging me to make a list of 21 or 31 or any number greater than 20 so they could stand up here alongside their GD brethren. Let's take a moment, shall we?

• The Ring
• Don't Look Now
• A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: The Dream Warriors
• Night of the Living Dead (1968)
• Pieces
• Black Christmas
• Let the Right One In
• Wrong Turn

Geez, I really love John Carpenter movies. Let's face it, from the mid-70s to the mid-80s, the dude couldn't be touched.

This week on The Scare-ening...

...we've got some amazing guests lined up: Heidi Martinuzzi of Pretty/Scary and Stacie Ponder of Final Girl! They want you (yes, YOU) (but not YOU) to call in and ask them questions and tell them what to talk about. It is destined to be the most glamourous episode of anything in the history of ever, no?

The Scare-ening III: In 3-D will really help you hone your calling in and asking stuff skills in preparation for our guest for The Scare-ening IV, an episode in which you will have a chance to interact with a true horror brainiac, hero, and luminary.

Tune in tomorrow (that's "Wednesday" in weekspeak) at 8pm PST/11pm EST and get yer ask on!

Day 3: "Death is not the end to life."

Audrey Rose (1977) is a film that's long been in my brain. From the undeniably creepy poster art to that time in art school when I was talking horror movies with a classmate and she told me she that the most terrifying film she'd ever seen like, ever, was Audrey Rose...well, it was always a film I had to see. My art school days, however, were the days before The Internet (yes, there was a time before The Internet) and DVDs; this little movie was difficult to find and so I relegated it to "I'll get around to it" status and that was that. After I began Final Girl in earnest and started really diving into the world of horror movies, reading about them and researching them and really just enveloping myself in them, I never forgot about Audrey Rose. It was still a fairly rare film, despite the advent of DVD, and I found it odd that no one seemed to talk about it much, given that that one girl that one time assured me it was pee-your-pants terrifying. So it was glee- glee, I tells ya- that I was feeling when I found a megacheap VHS copy recently. What's the verdict after all these years of searching and waiting?

Umm, if Art School Girl found Audrey Rose to be the most horrifying film in the history of ever, then her head would surely explode within 10 seconds of watching It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. That's not to say it's a bad movie, but to my great disappointment, this isn't some lost classic unknown sleeper gem that everyone should see right this very second. If anything, it's more drama than horror- which is fine and all, but it's not what I was expecting...and everything should be exactly as I expect forever and ever!


Audrey Rose begins with a fiery car crash on a rain-slicked road in Pennsylvania, then quickly jumps to Manhattan eleven years later. A man in full-on weirdo beard mode (Anthony Hopkins) engages in some lite stalking of the Templeton family: he follows dad Bill (John Beck) to work, he waits outside the school where mom Janice (Marsha Mason) picks up daughter Ivy (Susan Swift)...he never engages the family, but he's always lurking in corners.

Weirdo Beardo isn't the only problem facing this happy little family, however: as Ivy's birthday approaches, she becomes increasingly plagued with nightmares she cannot remember upon waking.

Eventually Weirdo Beardo contacts the Templetons and explains why he's been passively harassing them: his name is Elliot Hoover, and eleven years prior he lost his wife and daughter Audrey Rose in that fiery car accident. After years of talking with psychics and delving into Indian mysticism, Hoover became convinced that his daughter was reincarnated; what's more, he believes that Audrey Rose's soul resides within Ivy, who was born two minutes after Audrey Rose died. Ivy's nightmares are the result of her soul wrestling with its dual nature. Bill and Janice are skeptical, but when Hoover calms Ivy's sleep-yelling by calling her "Audrey Rose", Janice begins to have her doubts.

Then begins a cycle:

- Ivy has a nightmare
- Bill is either absent (working late) or simply can't calm the girl down
- Hoover is present and can calm the girl
- Bill and Janice argue over what's happening and what should be done about it

...repeat, repeat. Oddly enough, Audrey Rose becomes a courtroom drama towards the end, wherein the possibilities of reincarnation are discussed- what rights does Hoover have if Ivy has a piece of Audrey Rose's soul lurking within her? There's a bit of science vs religion that ultimately results in an ending that's supposed to be uplifting, I suppose, but really isn't.


Don't get me wrong- Audrey Rose isn't a terrible film. It raises plenty of questions (though it falls squarely on the pro-reincarnation side of things) and provides lots of food for thought. The entire affair is helmed by the venerable Robert Wise (The Haunting), so to call it competent filmmaking is a bit of an understatement. It's bolstered by some fine performances, particularly from Marsha Mason (this is really her film, after all) and Susan Swift, who's largely given the thankless task of screaming and whining ad nauseum. Anthony Hopkins is serviceable, though he manages to be simultaneously dead-eyed and twitchy as a man fighting to save his dead daughter's soul. I even managed to overcome my deep and abiding loathing of John Beck, who appeared on Dallas as Mark Graison, a guy who I suppose was nice enough but totally came between Pam and Bobby solely due to creepy, wealthy persistence.

No, the problem with Audrey Rose is that it's been miscategorized for decades, largely in my head. The Exorcism of Emily Rose comes to mind as a descendant, though that film is far more flashy and horrifying than its predecessor. In short, it's worth a watch on a rainy Sunday afternoon, perhaps, but take it from me: don't let it haunt your brain!

Paranormal Activity

The entire world, it seems, is touting Paranormal Activity as the scariest movie in the history of ever, a film so frightening that your eyeballs will defy the laws of science as they up and die from terror-induced heart attacks. There's so much effing hype surrounding this movie that over 4,000 people lined up for a free midnight screening in Los Angeles. Trailers and teasers don't need to show much beyond audience members jumping out of their skin.

Is it worth all the hype? Well, everyone's going to have a different opinion on that, which is why I detest "hype". Movies get talked about and talked about to a point of total saturation; then people actually see the movie and instead of simply enjoying a film for what it is, the criticism becomes about expectations not met. In other words, "Yes it was scary, but my eyeballs didn't have heart attacks as I thought they would and therefore this movie sucks and why do I ever listen to hype?" Sure, we've all experienced movies that turn out to be not quite as good as we'd hoped, but what I'm talking about goes beyond that. I'm talking about people who buy into the hype and walk into a theater with their arms crossed and a "Scariest ever? Then prove it." attitude. How could a movie ever please an audience like that?

So...don't believe the hype. Or rather, don't pay attention to the hype, and don't get your cynical on- after all, everyone's "scariest movie ever" is going to be different. The Exorcist still freaks my shit out beyond belief, but plenty of folks laugh it off. Meanwhile, someone out there, I'm sure, can't sleep at night after a viewing of Child's Play. Diff'rent strokes and all that, you dig?

I went into Paranormal Activity without having read any official reviews and without so much as watching the aforementioned trailers. I didn't want to know anything or see anything: I simply wanted to believe that this movie was going to be really effing scary. Waiting in line last night, my friends and I were bundles of energy, SO READY for this movie, hoping it would be well and truly terrifying.

It is.

Paranormal Activity is a throwback to films such as Robert Wise's The Haunting: it proves that noises and dark corners are all you really need to make a horror movie...well, horrifying. It's amazing what can be accomplished with a well-placed sound effect- your imagination fills in the blanks and the next thing you know, you're holding your breath.

I held my breath a lot during this film. I had goosebumps for minutes on end. I could feel my eyes open as wide as they'd go...then I reverted to my ridiculous childhood defense of squinting, my philosophy being if my eyes were already closed halfway, when something scary happened I could close them all the way much faster. Yes, my eyeballs had heart attacks.

When I got home in the wee hours of the morning, I was glad that my roommate was sleeping soundly not far away, because yes, I would have psyched myself out of sleep. Paranormal Activity plays upon your fear of things that go bump in the night, that feeling in your stomach when you're awakened in the dead of night by a creak in the living room. Watching it alone at night with the lights off seems to me an insurmountable task- even after I've seen it once.

That said, it's certainly not a perfect movie- the end may be a bit problematic for some (though, to be honest, I have no clue what would make a stellar conclusion to it), and there's not a lot to dig into when it's over. However, Paranormal Activity absolutely accomplishes what it sets out to do, which is to scare the shit out of you. Horror movies these days seem to forget that scaring the audience should be, you know, a goal...but not this movie. It's incredibly effective on a primal level and as a fan, I simply could not have been more happy. It was everything I wanted it to be, and I can't wait to see it again...but no, I won't watch it alone.

I don't know, am I feeding into the hype I'm asking you to ignore? Eh. It was really fucking scary, and that's that. If you'd like to judge for yourself, then go to the Paranormal Activity website and demand that it plays in your town, dammit. Small horror movies screening in theaters is always a good thing, right?

she's got a death curse...i think

Some people (you know who they are...I can't say anymore because they're watching me) claim that the 1977 thrilla from Manila Canada Cathy's Curse is a rip-off of The Exorcist. To compare the two films is like comparing a punch in the teeth to a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream; yes, they both have to do with the mouth, but that's where the comparisons end. Cathy's Curse and The Exorcist both deal with a child possessed, but other than that they've got precisely zip in common...and like a punch in the teeth squaring off against mint chocolate chip ice cream in a "What's awesome?" contest, only one option is enjoyable. Unless you're a masochist- which, considering the fact that on some level I did enjoy Cathy's Curse, I must be. This doesn't mean you should punch me if we ever meet, however- unless I ask you to. Which I won't. Unless I'm drunk...but even then, I won't ask you to hit me in the face, because that's my money-maker.

Here's the cockeyed set-up for the tale, which tells you...well, pretty much nothing:


Why we need a written intro for this, I have no clue- especially since we get the gist when the father speeds off into the night to find his wife, daughter Laura in tow: "Your mother's a bitch! She'll pay for what she did to you!" Before he can locate and, one assumes, beat the shit out of his estranged wife, dear ol' dad crashes the car. Flaming flames of fire engulf the car, killing dad and daughter.

In 1979 (yes, this 1977 film is set in the future!) George and family move into the house because...because...well, I have no idea why, as there was no narrative to explain that part of it. George is pleased because his daughter Cathy seems happy in their new digs, but his harridan of a wife finds his attitude...insulting, which gives way to some subtle, rich character development as she shrieks through gritted teeth (yes, that's possible):

Listen George, this is getting pretty ridiculous. You know and I know that I've had a nervous breakdown, right? Well, it's not hereditary and it isn't catching!

Some neighbors come to visit, and one of them just so happens to be a medium. She wastes no time getting her Madame Blavatsky on and going to town. She relives the fiery car crash, and it's none too pleasant of an experience. Still, when it's all over, she insists that they "must do it again sometime".

Meanwhile, Cathy has found a doll in the attic. Its eyes are sewn shut, and Cathy's mom keeps referring to it as a "dirty rag". No, it doesn't make sense...but don't worry! Nothing in Cathy's Curse makes sense.

The doll, it seems, once belonged to Laura. Apparently Laura has become eeeevil in her afterlife, for she possesses Cathy.


Now, on the surface, that's not so hard to digest; the devil, however, is in the details...and like Cathy's mom consistently calling a doll a "rag", the details in this movie defy all laws of everything in the history of ever, and none of it makes a lick of damn sense.

Infused with the mighty spirit of Laura, Cathy develops a bit of telekinesis. She stands there as objects fly around and crash into walls and a synthesizer makes a "peeeewwwwwwwww" sound. No one who witnesses these shenanigans seems to think this is unusual- least of all the housekeeper, who just cleans up the mess.

Cathy develops the ability to disappear and reappear at will, and her mother simply finds it annoying.

Like Regan in The Exorcist, Cathy begins using foul language once she's possessed, and boy oh boy...I curse like a sailor, but even I was taken aback when Cathy called someone a "filthy female cow"! The depths of depravity on display are astonishing- and to think, a child was forced to say these things!

I could go on and on with examples of head-scratchers. Sometimes, it's horrendous editing that leaves you wondering what the hell is going on, like when mom sits and zones out in the tub...but then the water turns to blood! Mom screams, and is somehow suddenly standing up, frantically slapping at what one can only assume are leeches.




Characters appear out of nowhere, only to vanish without an explanation, such as the scene where the medium shows up and stumbles into Cathy's Super Secret Possession Headquarters in the attic. Another old woman suddenly appears- she proceeds to insult the medium by calling her an "extra rare piece of shit", tries to make the medium swear she won't tell what she's seen in Cathy's Super Secret Possession Headquarters, and then...they scream together. WHAT?

Then, in perhaps the best moment of the film, the medium runs outside and promptly face-plants in the snow, never to be seen again. WHAT WHAT?

One wonders why Laura has decided to possess Cathy at all. Sure, she can make the requisite bugs, snakes, and rats appear at will, and a few people mysteriously die, but to what end? To what end, Laura's spirit? If she's trying to take revenge on mothers- those "dried up old whores"- everywhere for the slights of her childhood, then she doesn't do a very good job of it. One squandered opportunity, for example, comes when Cathy brings her mother lunch. As she waits outside the door, the food on the tray rots before our very eyeballs- surely that trick would freak out dear old mom! Instead, the food reverts back to normal and mom enjoys a lovely sandwich and apple.

Again I say: Cathy's Curse makes no sense. The big finale finds Cathy looking like a miniature extra crispy Lizzie Grubman, sitting on the bed clutching her dirty rag dolly. Mom walks in, grabs the doll, rips its eyelids open, Cathy is no longer possessed, the end. Seriously.

I find it hard to believe that this movie could get from the page to the screen without anyone noticing that it makes no GD sense. Cathy's Curse is a bit like having Mexican food as made by Chinese people, as I once did in Brooklyn (wud up, Happy Taco?). All of the elements were there: beans, tortilla, cheese, lettuce...but somehow it just wasn't right. It was missing that special something, whatever it is, that made me say, "Ah yes, I am having a bean burrito!" Cathy's Curse has actors, dialogue, and a semblance of a plot, but there's nothing there that makes me say, "Ah yes, I am watching a movie!"

And yet, as I noted earlier, I enjoyed myself in some way. Perhaps this is because on the surface of things, it felt like a real grindhouse flick: there was little violence, a mere few drops of blood, no stronger language than "shit"...but the cruddy film stock, all green-hued and scratchy, the jump-cuts, the horrendous acting, the supernatural 70s thang, and, of course, that cockeyed intro were like a comfy, stinky blanket I could wrap myself in. My very own dirty rag, if you will. I wouldn't say the film is so bad it's good...more like, it simply needs to be witnessed, like a two-headed baby in a jar.

Film Club: The Devil's Rain

Obviously I opted to do something a little bit different this time around. Also obvious is the fact that I skimmed over a lot, and I didn't really "review" the movie much per se. Then again, I did draw an eyeless Ida Lupino, so that must be worth something!

I also just realized I forgot to use my "Private Club of The Satan's Helpers" joke. Dammit! Oh well. Next time...I'm sure there's plenty of Satanariffic flicks in Final Girl's future. Meanwhile, for more in depth talkin' and reviewin', check out the folks below. Big thanks to all who participated!

Film Club Coolies, y'all!
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Video Updates
Tech Noir
Planet of Terror
Tim Kirk
Steph Is Dead
Slammed & Damned
Things That Don't Suck
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namtab
Deadly Doll's House of Horror Nonsense
Celeberrimous
From the Depths of DVD Hell
Gorillanaut
Film Shuffle
Emma Blackwood
Orchestrated Horror

A poll for you----eh, never mind

In the interests of synergy, I was about to create a poll in order to determine the most annoying secondary character in horror. I began listing out the jerks who are so jerky you just sit there hoping they'll die soon: you know, guys like Shelly from Friday the 13th Part 3, the rednecks from Friday the 13th Part 5, Steel and Rickles from Day of the Dead...but then I ran into a problem. A sweaty, sausage-chewing, spit-spitting, wheelchair-bound, pee pee in a can problem...a problem named Franklin. Yes, Frankin from The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. More specifically, the problem is that no one in the history of horror or, indeed, ever is more annoying than Franklin. It's just not possible, and I mean that in a most scientific sense. I've done the math, people, and he's the annoyingestest. EST. Evarrrr.

As I sat dealing with my sads over not being able to create a poll for you to click, an idea came to me. Why not create a diff'rent poll? I mean, if being diff'rent is good enough for strokes, then it's good enough for polls.

Okay, that barely makes sense. Regardless, click and say your say!

WHICH IS THE MOST ANNOYING:

Franklin

or

This

Personally, I'm going for Franklin. Yes, the noise is annoying, but at least it doesn't smell like sausage.

poll by twiigs.com

won't you help a sista out?

You will?! Oh, fabulous. It's so easy! All you have to do is:

1. Head over to AMC and read my latest, all about stuff you should...you know, watch. If you left a comment over there, or clicked "recommend", that would make my editor happy. Trust me, it's horrible when she's NOT happy. I'm not going to say she hits me, but she totally does.
2. Wish a happy birthday to Chainsaw Mafia honcho (honchette?), Fangoria Spooksmodel, Ludlow staaaah, and all around super lady Shannon Lark.

Shannon Lark: bloody and "with it", yet totally gluten-free

What oh what will you get in return, besides that thrilling feeling one only gets when doing a good cyber-deed? Here's what you'll get: a whopping almost ten minutes of awesomely horrible horribly awesome horriblawesomeness from that craptacular flick I recently reviewed, Don't Go in the Woods...Alone! Finally, after all these few days, you can witness for yourself some of the worst acting in the history of ever- and all for just a few clicks. Hooray for everything!

Alright, but can I go with someone else?

Oh. My. Crapping. Crap.

Once upon a recent time I bought a copy of the most perverse, most bestest Bigfoot movie ever, Night of the Demon, via yon Internette. The seller was so effing amazing that he/she/it included a free bonus DVD- the 1981 slasher Don't Go in the Woods...Alone!. Well, my friends, I watched that bonus DVD tonight and...again I say, oh my crapping crap. I think I'm in love.

Right away I had an inkling that I was gonna be in for a treat, as the film proclaimed itself "Spectacular Entertainment".


I don't want to keep you in suspense: they weren't lying.

As best as I could discern, the plot goes something like this: some tools go camping for some reason, a bunch of random people wander around the woods, most of them die, and then the killer gets killed. It sounds totally by the numbers, right? Well, fret not, friendos, for the true delights of Don't Go in the Woods are in the deets*.

Not only is DGitW entirely dubbed, it also boasts the worst acting in the history of ever. EVARRRR. I'm not kidding. Here's a simple math equation to help you grasp the depths of awfulness acheived: think of the worst acting you've ever seen in a movie. Now take out your science calculator and multiply that bad acting by a million. The result will still only be roughly two-thirds as atrocious as what you'll witness in DGitW. These actors defy all logic; I understand that acting is indeed an art and not everyone will excel at said art, but...it was as if these people had never spoken before. At all. Their inflections were off, they were stressing the wrong words, repeating words over and over...it's truly SPECTACULAR ENTERTAINMENT.

"Do you know? At this verrrrminnit. I am missing. As the World TURNS?"

"How do you tell. The rabid from the. UNRABID?"

Don't Go in the Woods is populated with countless random characters, most of whom don't have any lines, never mind a name or a reason for existing. Take, for example, this woman, who is hiking in the woods with her photographer son/friend/weirdo person, who is there to shoot photos of a train.

A train which makes a stop.

In the woods.

We don't see the train, but we hear a train whistle, so I'm sure it was really there.

Or take this woman, who WEARS ROLLER SKATES WHILST HIKING.

Or this broad, who doesn't say a word but is clearly cooler than you or I will ever be.

See, she's out in the woods a-paintin'. Mind you, she's not exactly painting what she sees, but who am I to judge? Art is feeling, man, and it ain't safe.

Like most other hikers, Coolie Painter falls victim to...something. Or someone. Up until this point, the stalking sequences progressed like this:

1. There is no ambient noise, but a character says "What was that??" and looks off-screen.
2. Cut to a shot of a moving tree branch, while the character says "Aah!"
3. Cut to a shot of the character, bloody and dead.

What was killing these poor nameless fools? Was it the branches themselves? Was it a bear? Suicide? The first real clue flashed before my eyeballs during Coolie Painter's death: as best as I could figure, it was a knife-wielding Sasquatch who was responsible for all the murdering!


I figured wrong. Much later, after many a sequence wherein we follow people walking through the woods and they're suddenly killed by something just out of frame, the culprit is revealed: it's a wackadoo mountain man, apparently the offspring of Captains Caveman and Lou Albano! He's a right filthy kookadook with a penchant for wearing Mardi Gras beads on his face and poking people- poking them TO DEATH- with sticks.

The music is as horrendous as the acting, a thunking and constantly repeating Casio soundtrack featuring swells that build to nothing and stings present for no reason. The less said about the end credits music (set to the tune of "The Teddy Bears Picnic", featuring lyrics such as "Don't go into the woods tonight, you probably will be killed..."), the better.

Were the last twenty minutes of Don't Go in the Woods...Alone! not so damn padded- and they really were- I'd probably be proclaiming this film to be the love of my life. It's gloriously, uproariously inept filmmaking at its finest...in other words, it's SPECTACULAR ENTERTAINMENT.

As further proof of my assertions, I'd like to provide you with some screencaps from the sequence where the cuckoo nutso cave dude decapitates the wheelchair-bound hiker, but my computer has had enough of this shitty movie and freezes up when I try to play it. My computer has such high standards, you see.

YES I SAID A WHEELCHAIR-BOUND HIKER. He made the mistake of wheeling into the woods...alone!




*That's young folk talk for "details"...once again, I strive to prove my youthful vigor, my "with it-ness", and my relevance.