this is not my movie

Think on back with me, child, to that magical long-ago time called "earlier this week" when I reviewed a little sumpin' sumpin' called Cathy's Curse. Wasn't that a great day? It sure was. Unless I'm thinking about last week, when I had some frozen yogurt...or was that yesterday? Eh, I have no clue. My days tend to mush all together to form a big blob of amorphous solid (not unlike silly putty), only broken up by occasional trips to my mailbox or, when I'm feeling particularly wicked, the local branch of the library. But! I am not here to blather on and on about my glamourous life, no- I'm here to talk about...wait, what am I here to talk about?

Oh yeah! So listen, Cathy's Curse was a selection from my awesome 50-pack of Chilling Classics (or, as the package is labeled, "CHILLLING CLASSICS"), right? And when I took it out of my DVD player, guess what I noticed! I noticed that the B-side to Cathy's Curse is a little sumpin' sumpin' called The Demons of Ludlow. Imagine my surprise! Go on, imagine it. IMAGINE IT I SAY.

Now, to those few of you who're all, "What's the big effing deal about a movie called The Demons of Ludlow?", well, if you'd been paying attention around here you'd know that I recently made a movie called Ludlow. So now you know what the big effing deal is...and you, too, can imagine my surprise!

Reading the synopsis of the 1983 film clued me in that it has nothing in common with my movie, save a bit of the title...but still, I had to size up my competition in my quest to claim the sweet, sweet Ludlow pie.

I'm sorry, that doesn't make much sense. I'm gonna tell you right now: none of this post will make much sense because boy oh boy, I'm in a mood. I've been really hyper today, and I've had an inordinate amount of cheese...so there's no telling what might happen. Bear with me...but don't worry, The Demons of Ludlow makes no sense either, so who the frig cares what I write about it?

As the helpful banner indicates, the town of Ludlow is celebrating its bicentennial. It's a right ol' hoe-down!

The Mayor...or whoever he is...gets up to give his little speech about how wonderful it is that Ludlow is one of the oldest settlements- one of the very first!- in the United States. Never mind that by 1783 the entire Eastern seaboard had long been settled already- Ludlow is 200 years old and one of the very first, dammit! When the Mayor claims they're all one big, happy family, it's clear that the crowd enthusiastically agrees. My heart shed a crystalline tear, for I was so very touched by their response.

Anyway, it seems that a descendant of Mr. Ludlow, the town founder, has sent a gift- all the way from England!- to commemorate this momentous occasion. It's a beautiful (not at all tacky) white piano...and when someone busts out a few tunes, the citizens of Ludlow are so fucking dazzled you could just puke.


It's worth noting that this magical white piano sounds an awful lot like a Casio keyboard set to "organ".

Now then, let's meet some of the town's finest, shall we? There's...

• The Mayor, who we already know...
• The Writer, who was raised in Ludlow until she was nine- but now she's back and she's nosy and she knows there's something hinky 'bout that piano...
• The Reverend, who knows that Ludlow has a secret...
• The Horny Teens, who sneak off to a barn to make out...and make out they do, until a green glowing hand rises out of the ground and...smears hay and chocolate sauce on the girl's stomach ...

• The Weirdo, who is either mentally ill or mentally retarded (it's never really specified)- either way, she spends a lot of time talking to her POSITIVELY EERIE doll collection...

...which includes Smurfette.

Once the piano is played, bad things start happening in Ludlow- or, at least, bad things kinda happen every twelve minutes or so. Thank goodness the scares were so spaced out, 'cause I don't think my nerves could stand a full 90 minutes of such unrelenting terror! It was hard enough to make it through sequences such as...

The one where a poker floats in the air, takes a swing at The Reverend, and WHIFFS!


Or the one where the piano ekes out a teeny tiny amount of blood!


Or the one where The Weirdo's Mom gets pulled up into the ceiling after a couple of colonial chicks throw a noose around her neck!



Or the one where The Weirdo has a flashback to Ye Olde days, when people engaged in such debauched behavior as eating copious amounts of bread and engaging in powdered wiggery!


It seriously looks like someone from the FX or costume department took a trip to the Halloween Store and stocked up on blood, "witch nails", and "Billy Bob teeth". I am not saying this is a bad thing, I am just saying.

Now, I realize I've made The Demons of Ludlow look like it's jam-packed with action, thrills, and frights so frightening your eyeballs will pee their pants in fright...and while that may be true for the scintillating sequences I've relayed above, the truth of the matter is that this movie is boring with a capital DULL. The Writer tries to piece things together regarding the piano's history and Mr. Ludlow, but she never gets anywhere beyond "He did something and was exiled to England". Meanwhile, The Reverend is concerned that people are dying, but in typical jerk Mayor fashion, The Mayor doesn't want to cancel the parade piano festival just because there are a few dead bodies around. I'm gonna be honest: once this flick hit 59 minutes and I was bored outta my gourd, I hit the FF button, only stopping when it looked like something was happening. I was tired of all the blah blah blah- so sue me! This is the last half hour of The Demons of Ludlow, on speed:

A tree stump explodes- repeatedly- in a shower of fireworks.

The piano plays itself.

Some Three Musketeers-looking dudes show up and cut off The Mayor's head.

The piano loses a leg for no reason and starts to smoke.

This dude shows up.

The Writer is suddenly in Ye Olde Clothes...she runs about Ludlow, encountering colonials with poor dental work everywhere she turns.

The Writer cannot escape because there's some sort of force field around Ludlow...but then a car drives through it- and her- and she's back in her regular clothes.

She falls down, the driver of the car goes to her...freeze frame THE END.

You know that if this movie was so bad it was good, I'd tell you, right? I would, because I'm here to spread the love, friendos. I know you're looking at those pictures up there, thinking that exploding tree stumps are just what you need to cure what ails ya- but trust me, The Demons of Ludlow is only gonna ail ya even worse. For every second of magical sparkles and fireworks, there's ten minutes of nothing. It's a disjointed mess that's a chore to sit through, even on fast forward. Reading this post is all the time you need to spend with this one, I'm sorry to say. And I swear, I'm not just saying that because I want to hog that sweet, sweet Ludlow pie all to myself...

...although I do wish I'd worked an exploding tree stump into my movie somehow.

Fango contest! Film Club pick! Fridays rule!

Yes, you read that headline right! I've got all sorts of goodies for you today. So why don't I just shut up and get to 'em already?

First up: I've got 4 day passes to Fangoria's Chicago stop on their Weekend of Horror tour! 4 passes to give away! In a giveaway contest! The show is coming up fast (March 6-9) so enter now by dropping me a line:

Send an email to stacieponder at gmail dot com with "FANGO" in the subject line by...mmm, 2pm (PST) on Monday, March 2. I'll draw winner names that day- they'll be drawn randomly, so butt-kissing won't get you anywhere.

Of course, that doesn't mean that butt-kissing isn't welcome.

The guest list is SA-WEET- Lamberto Bava! Ruggero Deodato! Marilyn Burns! Alan Rowe Kelly! Don't be a jerk...enter NOW!

Nextly, this recent discussion of Ye Olde Timey Slasher Movies can mean only one thing: it's Film Club pickin' time! And I'm pickin'...

Fulci, baby, and his 1981 goresterpiece (I don't know what that means) The Beyond. Boing!

The film has been recently released in a super-fancy-pants edition but it's not on Netflix's current rotation, so you "everything has to come to me or I won't do it" types may have to rethink your strategy. Or not. I guess it depends how cool you want to be. Or not be. Whatevs.

Prepare to have your mind warped!

The film: The Beyond
The due date: Monday, March 30

Film Club 2: The Rechoosening

When I started Final Girl once upon a Ye Olde Time, my niche was covering slasher movies. I slowly began writing about other subgenres because let's face it, there's only so much you can write about slasher films on a regular basis...and besides, I love horror in all shapes and sizes and flavors. I don't discriminate!

For the next Film Club MEGAEVENT, however, I'm takin' it back to my slasher roots. A positively DREAMY early-80s double bill, folks:

Friday the 13th, UNCUT.

My Bloody Valentine, UNCUT.

I've written about both films before, but these forthcoming special editions feature footage never before seen by my very eyes, so they're definitely worth revisiting. Friday the 13th is rumored to have a...err...whopping 34 seconds of lost footage added, but My Bloody Valentine promises to be a real treat with upwards of a (for reals) whopping nine minutes of additional footage- largely, all the gore and effects (in)famously excised by the MPAA. Fans (me) have been wanting to see this footage forever, and now all of our (my) dreams have come true. Alright, so not ALL of my dreams. My cat is still unable to scoot around the house like a fat furry hovercraft. I have faith, however, that someday technology will catch up to my deepest desires!

MBV hits this week! THIS WEEK! This very week in which we are living! F13 should be out on February 3rd. I have no idea what the Netflix deal may or may not be- you may, in fact, have to leave your house to seek out a copy when the time comes. Write about one movie, write about both- just make sure you're writing about the new editions. Whatever you choose, this is a primo opportunity to check out some of the finest slasher flicks from the genre's heyday. As President and Supreme Ruler of Final Girl, I simply can't pass them up!

The films: My Bloody Valentine (uncut) and Friday the 13th (uncut)
The due date: Monday, February 23

i love the 80s, even though sometimes they sucked.

Let's get this out of the way: Sorority House Massacre (1986) blows with a capital BLOWS. Last night, however, I was in the mood for a big fat slice of 80s slasher, and in the end, SHM delivered. Mind you, it only delivered in that it fulfilled my wispy nostalgia-fueled desires; even as cheesy 80s slashers go, this one is bad.

Bad bad.

As in really not good.

Still, I was okay with that because popping in the DVD immediately took me back to sleepovers at Elena's house, when we'd walk down the hill to Nick's Video and rent crappy horror movies even though we were underage, and then we'd walk next door to Nick's Pizza and pick up a pizza to go with the movie.

Apparently Nick had a real stranglehold on that section of the town.

Anyway, we'd pretty much bring home anything- the more lurid the better. Titles featuring the words "massacre", "blood", "death", "slaughter", "evil", or "the" were sure to be mind-melting winners. Of course, our hopes for mental scarring were rarely realized, but who cares? Even when the movies stunk, they were still fun- and that's why, every once in a while, I get the urge to watch some 80s crap. Sometimes they stink, but they're usually still a bit fun.

Sweet mama, I'm old.

Sorority House Massacre really effs with your head, man, as Beth (Angela O'Neill) keeps dreaming these, like, totally creepy dreams involving the horror movie dream staples: children, bloody ceilings, mannequins, and boring dinner parties.



Meanwhile, at The Old Mental Asylum Place, some dude who may or may not be seen in Beth's dreams is thrashing about and displaying an overabundance of beta waves, meaning: he's a good 9.5 on the crazy scale.

Are you scared yet? If not, then pull up your pants and hold on tight, kiddies, for things are about to get all ten kinds of terrifying up in here: Sorority House Massacre is an endless parade of some of the worst 80s fashions you will ever, ever see. EVER. EVARRRRRR.



They just. Kept. Coming. I realize that, you know, every era has its own style. I realize that I myself was certainly a fashion victim in the 80s- we all were, and we all thought we were cool. It's pointless to get all wrapped up in outdated hair and clothes when watching a movie, but... JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.

Even the background players are an affront to my delicate eyes! Yes, I'm talking about you back there, Banana Orbison. We see you, and we see that your outfit is atrocious.

I know those outfits are causing you to think "Oh, horror movies. Those sorority girls are such degenerate sluts!" and boy, are you right! In fact, when the whole entire campus except them and their boyfriends goes away for the weekend, our Fashionable Foursome gets up to some dirty, dirty no-good! All alone in the big Kappa Kappa They Never Named The Sorority In This Movie house, the girls immediately decide to "eat Melanie's ice cream" and "try on Cindy's clothes"...and then they do. Those crazy college kids! What shenanigans.

The girls try on Cindy's clothes in a montage set to music that sounds like the theme of an 80s morning show, and it's all just the lamest excuse in the history of ever to get some tits on the screen.

It does, however, provide us with an inkling as to exactly how deep Cindy's love of the jumpsuit is.

And yes, THEY'RE DOO-WOPPING.

So the brainwavey kookadook busts out of the asylum and further gets his Michael Myers on by breaking into a hardware store to steal a knife and then speeding off in a battle wagon.

Beth's dreams continue, and it seems that she and the brainwavey kookadook are connected somehow. Could it have anything to do with that story about the guy who, years before, killed everyone in his family except his one little sister? Could Beth's dreams be not dreams at all, but rather...dun dun dunnnnn...repressed memories? Gee, I wonder.

It plays out how you would expect: the cuckoo nutso shows up at the sorority house and he kills everybody. Beth finally remembers her sordid past and kills the killer...or does she? Dun dun dunnn...cue the reappearance of the bad guy at the end when Beth is in the hospital! Is it all a dream? Or is there really a boy in the lake?


Who can say? All I know for sure is that Beth really needs to learn how to scream with her eyes. I wonder if Tyra and Company could teach her that?

Sorority House Massacre is the gift that keeps on giving, though, and the most perplexing mystery of all is saved for the end credits.

The biggest problem with this film isn't the plot, which is standard 80s slasher stuff- in fact, while watching this I thought, "I'd love to remake the shit out of this movie"...or maybe it was "remake the fuck" out of it, I don't remember exactly. The point is, there's a little glimmer of an alright slasher plot in there, but it dies due to poor execution all the way around.

The acting is some of the most lifeless I've ever seen; really, a box of crayons would have done as good a job. People die and no one reacts. Lines are read in a monotone. In the big end battle between Beth and the wackadoo, he repeatedly stabs her in the legs as she tries to crawl away, or so, at least, I thought: I couldn't be sure if that's what I was seeing, because she didn't acknowledge it at all, not even with an "Ow, cut it out!" There's no sense of urgency or terror or...or anything, really. The guy shows up, stabs people in the gut, and that's that. There's nary a scream echoing the halls of Ye Olde Sorority House.

Of course, the action itself is as lackluster as the performances. Survivors run upstairs, then downstairs, then upstairs, then downstairs, and that's about it. This film does make me wonder, however, if it really IS possible to dive INTO a second story window from the ground.

As I said when I started this post, Sorority House Massacre is a pretty terrible movie, but it scratched my 80s itch, and for that I'm thankful. Perhaps, though, I should stop scratching before it gets infected.

Film Club: The Antichrist

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The Wednesday Something Something

Big stuff...big stuff aujourd'hui, mes amis. BIG STUFF I SAY. You know the drill:

Over yonder at AMC, I talk a bit about what makes a scary mask a scary mask and not...uh, an unscary mask, I guess. If you'd like to see some unscary stuff, check out Ye Olde Final Girl Hall of Infamy. Oh Gene Shalit, how I adore thee.

Episode 3 of Ghostella's Haunted Tomb is up and at 'em! Check it out, they made me a fancy graphic:

Pretty nice, n'est-ce pas? This week's episode is a real doozy. Tune in as everyone's favorite Guinevere, Guinevere Turner, discovers...Who's Been in the Herb Garden?

Now, perhaps the biggest news of all! Fangoria is hitting Secaucus, New Jersey on June 20-22 for yet another Weekend of Horrors and I, yes I, have 4, yes 4, one-day passes to giveaway to you, yes you! Check out the guest list and if it strikes your fancy, enter my big Fangoria Ticket giveaway. Send me an email: stacieponder at gmail dot com by midnight, June 14 with FANGO in the subject line. Winners will be drawn completely at random, but feel free to send cookies anyway. See how much I care?

In other news...

Friday the 13th Blog-A-Thon

Can you feel the kismet, people? All 'round Ye Olde Internette, people are talking about the Friday the 13th films and giving Jason Voorhees and Company some well-earned props. It's glorious in a sort of Hands Across America kind of way, don't you think? Though this endeavor was my idea, I had a really hard time coming up with something to say about these movies. I reviewed all the Friday films during that ridiculous, ass-numbing marathon; I've talked about the awesome coffee table book dedicated to the series; Friday films have been mentioned here for ridiculous faces, various death scenes, the general badassery of Jason, and defenestrations galore. What else can I possibly say? I'll say what I can possibly say: Baghead Jason of Friday the 13th Part 2 is the most frightening and effective of any Jason in any of the Friday films.

There's obviously something frightening about later incarnations of Jason- the hulking, hockey-masked killing machine. But Baghead Jason isn't a hulking killing machine who's brought back to life time and again, an ooey-gooey corpse of unlimited powers. Baghead Jason, you see, is just some guy. He's a real human being who wears a bag on his head and will kill you. Like Michael Myers, he's a boogeyman. He's the type of legend kids talk about- the madman who lives in the woods, the deformed monster who's waiting for kids to wander too close so he can snatch them up and bake them into a pie or something. When I was young, there was a wooded expanse across the street from our house and all the neighborhood kids would head into there to play. There were bike trails and rocks to climb...and it was rumored that there was some crazy guy who lived somewhere in there, just like Jason. Let me tell you, the idea of it made hide and seek an exceptionally thrilling game to play. I think it's safe to say that the rotting zombified Jason of Part VIII isn't someone we're likely to encounter outside the confines of a TV or movie screen; but Baghead Jason? I'm still partially convinced that a guy just like him really did wander the woods of southeastern Connecticut. Baghead Jason is real.

Looking at the character in Part 2, it's kind of amazing that he'd go on to death and resurrection countless times over, becoming a sort of perverse Superman. In Part 2, Jason had a house. He had somewhere to live, a little lean-to that he built himself...a shack that had a toilet. He clearly loved his mother and was so traumatized by her death that he built a shrine to her- he even lit candles. He was so full of rage that he left the confines of Camp Crystal Lake and somehow tracked down Alice, the counselor who killed his mother; he brought his mom's head all the way to Alice's apartment as he sought revenge. Couple these very human (and yes, very insane) actions with The Ginny Theory- that being that Jason never drowned in Crystal Lake, but rather ran off into the woods to live his kooky lifestyle- and there's actually some...GASP...character development for Jason Voorhees. The smallest sliver of our brains might even be dedicated to feeling sorry for the guy.

In Part 3, Jason would go on to adopt the hockey mask and cement his standing as a horror icon. Never again, however, would he seem so real- and to me, he'd never again seem so frightening, either.

All right, I've said my piece. Now it's time to spread the wealth! I'm sure I'll be updating throughout the day, so check back often for all things Friday the 13th.

Edward Copeland on Film gives us a review of Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan.

Brainbug over at The Celluloid Cesspool has a picture-laden post about Part 3-D.

Erich at Acidemic-Film remembers experiencing the dawn of the slasher age.

Valter of Documents discusses the meaning behind Jason's iconic mask.

Over at Aphorisms and Ectoplasm, Spazmo reveals some of his long history with the films.

Birthday Boy Chadwick Saxelid reviews Jason X: The Experiment at Clueless Observations. Happy birthday!

Filmsquish gets it on with a review of Jason Goes to Hell and a slasher study to boot.

Kimberly of Cinebeats keeps it hip, talking about the influence of Bava's Bay of Blood.

Curt gets the ball rolling on a gialli vs. slashers smackdown over at The Groovy Age of Horror.

Look Back in Anger, fondness, and a booze-fueled haze at John Barleycorn's Friday the 13th love affair.

Adam Ross gives us 13 reasons to own the Friday box set...with a little DVD Panache.

Yonder at Johnny LaRue's Crane Shot, Marty McKee's mad Friday-reviewin' marathon culminates today with Freddy vs. Jason.

Amanda By Night reveals the highs and lows of Idiot Man Child Cinema at Retro Ectero.

Dreamrot talks about his relationship with Friday...sort of...amongst the 7 Dollar Popcorn.

The Roundtable of Yon Horror Blog discusses favorite Friday kills.

Pat Piper casts his Lazy Eye (Theatre) on Friday the 13th and safe sex.

Sir Jorge's Macabre DVD looks back at the classic 8-Bit NES game.

Ross Horsley of Buon Giallo! shows us what Venerdi the 13th might entail.

Andrew Bemis of Cinevistaramascope posits that a fear of Jason is a fear of the developmentally disabled.

Over at Gatochy's Blog, Mariana reveals the frightening reality of the Friday films.

Josh DeSlasher gives us an episode of Big Brother set at Camp Crystal Lake for Body Horror.

Check out some free Friday theme songs (including the bitchin' discofied Part 3 intro), available at Harry Manfredini's website!

Joe of the awesomely-named Carrie White Burns in Hell! has a sweet gallery of Friday posters and lobby cards on display.

John gazes at all the not-Jasons of the films with The Blackest Eyes.

Bob the Wordless has some words about Kevin Bacon-ka-bobs over at Why Can't I Write?

Dan Coyle pointed me towards a hilarious video review of the 8-Bit game by The Angry Nintendo Nerd.

Remember what it was like to see Friday the 13th for the first time? Relive the experience with a liveblog viewing from Emma Blackwood and her Art Boy.

Step into the Undertaker's Lounge and chat about Part VI: Jason Lives and the "professional wrestling" horror era.

Here they are...all the kills from the Friday the 13th films in chronological order. Thanks to everyone who threw this mind-numbing piece my way!



Well, I think that about wraps it up. Thanks SO MUCH to everyone who participated for making this event a heeee-youuuuge success. After all, you can't spell "Blog-A-Thon" without "you". Let's do this again sometime, shall we?