Sunday, March 31, 2013


Well, it's that time of year again, and if you're anything like me then this a day of marathoning zombie movies and eating candy until I damn near puke.

So basically, this is a day of awesome-ness.

Well however you Spooky-do's decide to spend your celebration of the dead coming back to life to destroy all hope and happiness, I hope you have fun.

And that you get at least get a good sugar high from it.

Love and Kisses

♥ Spooky Pie

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

The ABCs of Death (2012)

So for the first real entry on this blog in well over a year I am totally not doing what I said I was going to when I gave you that list of things I’d be reviewing and strayed far and wildly into something TOTALLY NOT ON THE LIST. If you have a thing about lists, this probably just completely rubbed you the wrong way. And if that’s the case, I’m sorry, but also, seriously, lighten the hell up. Because this gem of a movie rolled into my hometown for ONE WEEKEND ONLY and I did the only sensible thing a creepy confection in my position could, flapped her hands wildly going “OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD” and then proceeded to high-tail herself down to the only theater playing it. If you’re questioning this level of excitement, just what the fricking trailer, and if afterwards you’re still all Mr. “meh, whatever” … well then I don’t think this relationship is going to work after all, I’m sorry honey, we can discuss who gets the kids on which holiday.

Now tell me that doesn’t look magical to you. Or you know what. Don’t. Because you’ll make me angry, and you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry. I rip off my clothes and go on a path of destruction, mowing down people in my path, and knocking over furniture. I don’t actually get bigger or turn green or anything, I usually just come home tired and embarrassed, while my poor roommate tells the cops how sorry she is for my immature behavior and promises to try to make wear some sort of covering in public, and you know, stop punching children….

Wait… what was I talking about… and how did I get here? Oh yeah. Anyway, ANYWAY.

Here is the premise of the film at its most stripped down and basic: 26 film makers are given the task of each creating a film that has something to do with death, with the catch that it must also somehow relate to an assigned letter of the alphabet. These short films come to us from all corners of the globe and span a wide gamut of genres and subject matter; from the comical and camp, to downright artsy fartsy, from freaking disturbing, to the incredibly tragic, and then there’s a couple in there that you just sit, blinking slowly, and going “…. The fuck?”

I will not lie to you dear readers, not all of the shorts are good. In fact, some of them made this girl just sit there, scowling in contempt and making a disapproving clucking sound. However, I was at no point bored, nor did I zone out. Which is, frankly, a huge accomplishment, since I generally have such issues with spacing that I have on three separate occasions walked straight into sign poles, and each time it was so sadly ironic I would have laughed if not for the metal buzzing sound in my ears and the mother bitch of a headache, since they were ‘stop’, ‘no parking’, and ‘yield’, respectively. Hell, I zoned out halfway through writing this sentence.

It’s hard to really write a particularly succinct review about a movie that is a collection of shorts, especially when half the fun of them is trying to guess what word they’ve chosen for their assigned letter, and to the credit of the film makers, very few of them were an obvious choice. So here’s the thing; if you want a movie where you’re going to be constantly engaged by the material, then yeah, see it, totally see it. But if you’re prone to fainting or some other form of general sissarey (yes I just made that up, but it’s my word now, and I’m getting it copyrighted) you’re gonna want to take a pass on this one. Maybe go to the bigger theater down the road, catch that new Nicholas Sparks movie, that as far as I can tell is about a girl who cries a lot because she has to ride her bicycle around a quaint beach town.

Your delicate modern, sensibilities, will be offended, there's just no way around that, Gertrude, I'm sorry. Hell, at points my sensibilities were offended and that takes doing. But despite the fact that there are large clumps of this film that are offensive, and even occasionally hard to watch, I'm going out here and saying watch it. It takes chances, and generally speaking, I'm more offended by a movie that leans towards the safe and throws me something trite and predictable, than I am a movie that makes me queasy at points and at others makes me wonder if I'm actually just going mad very slowly. And sure, maybe I'm a little biased here, because when I saw it I had basically the perfect viewing experience  a midnight showing with only six other people, in an awesome, tiny art theater with ridiculously good popcorn. Maybe I would not have this level of affection for it if I'd just been sitting on my couch watching it. Maybe. But I would still respect the novelty of it. And that ought to count for something, right? No? Geez, don't be such a buzzkill...

Well, that's it for me, for now at least, but you can look for more of my slightly off-kilter views on things soon.
But now this girl is going to bed.

Until next time:
Hugs and kisses

Spooky Pie

Wednesday, February 20, 2013


Hello Dears, Darlings, and Spooky-doos.

I know this blog had pretty much, well, shuffled off this mortal coil. For, Jesus, over a year? But during that time your favorite creepy confection was finishing up that thing where they make you pays tons of money to sit in an uncomfortable desk and be taunted by people who make you do insane things, and never sleep, and then give you a false sense of hope that when it's all over the outside world will welcome you with open arms.

So basically, that's all over with. And now that I'm in that blissful purgatory in between that place, and the place where they pay me money to sit in an uncomfortable desk and be taunted by people who make me do insane things and never sleep. Which means that I have been returning to my one true love, horror.

And Christ have I missed it.

So Imma start cranking out reviews of what I've been watching/reading in the Purgatory, as well as some of the things I had watched/read in the past year or so that I've been neglecting this place. So here's (in no particular order) some of what you have to look forward to:

  • House of Leaves [novel]
  • Mama
  • Cabin in the Woods
  • Muoi
  • John Dies at the end
  • Hansel and Gretel (the Korean movie, not the one with Jeremy Renner)
  • Pontypool
  • The devil inside
  • This book is full of spiders (seriously dude, don't touch it) [novel]
  • VHS
  • American Mary
  • Cinderella

And on that note, I'm off darlings, but God willing, you'll be seeing a lot more of me

Spooky Pie

Thursday, October 6, 2011

American Horror Story

So as many of you probably already know, last night saw the debut of Ryan Murphy's newest mess with your head spectacular American Horror Story. And sure there's only been one episode but I am exciiiiiiiiiteeeeeed. Pilot episodes are usually a bit shaky, and sure there were things about the pilot that could have been... better. I know I'm in the minority here, but I could have done with MUCH less naked Dylan McDermott. But overall. When it was over I had a whole "WHAT DO YOU MEAN I NEED TO WAIT A WEEK FOR THE NEXT EPISODE????"

Okay, so here's the obligatory synopsis for those of you who weren't lucky enough to catch it, or haven't heard of it, or fall into both categories. It's about this house, all right? This freakishly BEAUTIFUL house in Hollywood, which, of course, everyone who moves into dies really badly. And some people who just stumble into it die pretty bad too, as you see within the first five minutes. The Harmons, our American family who we are going to be sharing our living rooms with every week, move from Boston to said house. They're starting over because Ben (Dylan McDermott) can't keep it in his pants, so his marriage is in need of saving. Wife, Vivien (Connie Britton) is a slightly twitchy ex-cellist, who, while I wasn't too annoyed by, really reminded me of the kind of people that I get cornered by when I occasionally go to Whole Foods, who want to spend five years telling me why I shouldn't drink out of plastic water bottles, and I end up crying or going all Patrick Bateman on them and have to find a new grocery store.

Then there's the daughter, Violet, who I haven't seen in anything, but I probably have warmed to the most, just because I feel like back in the dark ages when I was a teenager we would have gotten on swimmingly. There's also the insane ex-starlet neighbor played by Jessica Lange, which is enough of a reason to watch the show, the creepy house keeper, and a host of minor characters that add to the atmosphere which is already completely AWESOME only one episode in. Mainly the first episode is settling you in the characters and the house, and it does that pretty well ... expect for when it becomes the Dylan McDermott's ass show... then this girl starts to yell at her TV, and attempt to toss pants through the screen.

It's moody and beautiful, and the music, oh sweet jesus, the music. I shouldn't be surprised that the music selection is so wonderful, it is from the team that gave me my number one guilty pleasure show Nip/Tuck, and while many will like to argue with me that Nip/Tuck was trash (and I'm not saying it wasn't), the music was AMAZING. And I seriously could just lick the camera work.

Do I have your attention yet? Because you should be watching this show. Okay, yes, it is a Ryan Murphy show on FX, which means that there is as much violence and sex as they can get onto cable, but we're horror fans! When has boobs and gore ever been an issue for us?

I for one, can't wait to see where it goes next, and am delighted that this is my kick off into my month long Halloween celebration. Well dears and darling, it is nearing the 5AM mark, and it means that it is time for this Spooky confection to crawl into bed before the sun makes an appearance. So Ta for now.

Love and kisses,

Spooky Pie

Friday, August 19, 2011

Eden Lake (2008)

HI KIDS! Wow, I feel like it was not so long ago that I was all "yeah, I'm gonna start updating again, ALL THE TIME. Really! I mean it!" And then I promptly did no such thing. Wow. I suck. Sorry about that.

I mean, I could sit here and make excuses to you about how being a perpetual university student eats my life and I've barely had time to watch a movie lately, let alone review one. But you deserve better then my whining, so we'll skip that bit. Especially since I know that most of my fellow horror bloggers have a real life that they manage to upkeep as well as their blogs. But, like I said before, I suck, so let's move on.

Eden Lake was the movie I watched to reward myself for making it through the summer semester without defenestrating anyone. I had this whole "If I just get through finals, then I can watch Eden Lake, and eat pizza, and all will be right with the world".

I'm not entirely sure why I decided this movie was going to be my reward, but I did.

No. Wait. Scratch that. I know exactly why I decided this movie would be my reward.

And his name is Michael Fassbender.

I could watch a movie that starred him as a shut in. And the entire film would just be him pointing to various flower pots he'd collected over the years and explaining why he liked them. And I would be happy.

I would come away from that film going "Ah yes, today was a good day indeed." The man is glorious, I'm just saying.

So I set out to watch Eden Lake, and when it was over it had fully solidified for me two facts with which I was already pretty certain of going into it.

1) Michael Fassbender is an exquisite creature who should always do movies that involve him getting shirtless, and preferably, wet.
2) There is no way in Hell that you will get me to go camping.
( seriously, if Michael Fassbender, Eli Roth, AND Benedict Cumberatch showed up at my door and asked me to go camping with them ... well, okay, I would go if that happened. But it would give me pause.)

I went into this film convinced that camping is evil. I am a girl of my creature comforts. Don't get me wrong, I love nature, I do; but at the end of the day I like to come home to a hot shower and a clean bed that consists of a pillow-top mattress, with an extra layer of padding on top of that to make it all marshmallow-y. It was long ago established by one of my best friends that in some sort of a grimy hostage situation I would get us all out by the sheer fact that 24 hours without soap would make me go bat shit crazy, and punch a hole through the nearest wall through which me and my fellow captives could escape.

Long story short, me and camping are like oil and vinegar. But enough about me, let's move on to this movie about people who are crazy and actually enjoy camping and sleeping on the ground and other madness.

Meet Jenny (played by the always adorable, even when portraying a complete psychopath, Kelly Reilly) and Steve (played by Michael "sexy shark" Fassbender). Jenny is a school teacher, and I have no idea what the Hell Steve does for a living, maybe he's a swimsuit model or does toothpaste commercials or something, maybe he just gets paid to sit around and look pretty, who knows. They decide that they're going to escape to a remote lake for the weekend that Steve used to go to when he was younger or something.

Steve has the master plan of using the opportunity of this little get away to finally pop the question to Jenny. Because sleeping in the dirt is some people's idea of romantic. It's not mine, but we established that.

There are, at this point I should note, layers of foreshadowing and foreboding occurring now. In the night that they first arrive, apparently to spend the first night in a little B&B, because SLEEPING ON THE GROUND ISN'T FUN, the locals come off as ... prickly to say the least. The couple are either ignored or treated to clipped responses, and then get to enjoy the fine folks being generally awful and back handing their children. Now maybe this is the naive little California girl in me talking, but I thought that trailer trash was something that just happened here in the states. Apparently England has it too, well color me surprised.

The next bit of "this is your sign, just turn the Hell around and go back NOW" comes when they actually reach the titular lake, only to find the surrounding area fenced off to be redeveloped into a gated community. Jenny, in an unknowing voice of doom asks at this point "Who are they so afraid of?"

Oh Hunny. You don't even know. You don't EVEN know. Just let me hold you.

When they get to the lake is when we meet the band of merry miscreants who will be our antagonists for the evening. Hoodies. Yay hoodies!

What starts out as a minor confrontation between Steve and the leader of the pack of delinquents, Brett (played by Jack O'Connel, who I can't hate, because he will always be Cook from Skins for me, and I love Cook from Skins), which escalates to their car being stolen and demolished, which FURTHER escalates to the teenagers hunting Jenny and Steve through the woods.

Because camping is bad.

If you go camping you will be hunted down and tortured by psychotic hoodlums.

That being said, I hesitate to classify Eden lake under the umbrella of "torture porn". Because unlike many of the films that are classified as such, the torture isn't really the central focus of the film. It's more in the vein of a thriller in the sense that more of it is about the chasing and the game of cat and mouse and by today's standards, the violence is really quite tame.

The aim here, I believe, was not to make the violence itself be what is shocking to the viewers, but have the perpetrators of the violence and the victim/villain relationship be what makes you honestly uncomfortable. It's incredibly common for a movie to pit adults against one another, but less common to have a group of minors be the antagonists - which can make the viewers uncomfortable on two fronts: First, the idea of what many people consider to be children acting in such a fashion, and Second, the idea that adults would be forced to retaliate, and how far would you be willing to go against a group of, so called, children?

That dynamic is considerably more rare. Though it has been called up in such films as The Children and Who Can Kill A Child, or even such instances at The Bad Seed and The Omen. A plot line in which adults know they must fight back against the younger generation has a way of making an audience a little squirrely.

There is, I feel worth noting, a very interesting psychology within the group of teenagers. The leader of the gang has rather obvious psychosis - in a crazier then a shit house rat kind of a way. But he is not, cut and dried, the worst of the bunch. A fair number of his comrades are equally happy to hunt down and potentially murder Jenny and Steve. And then there is the lone female of the pack, who records the acts of atrocity on her cell phone without so much as a blink.

If Horror Movies are the forum through which movie makers air their fears and dissatisfaction with the world, then Eden Lake can be seen as following in the footsteps of George Romero's trend of social commentary. The message at the core of Eden Lake is not just the fear of what today's youth is becoming; but also a horror at the generation that not only raised them to be such monsters, and then washes their hands of them when they begin to act in the manner they were taught.

And honestly, Jack O'Connell's performance is damn good. You really believe that he will go twenty kinds of ape shit on you if you cross him. And yeah, I was a little biased, like I said before. And sure, in multiple parts I was like "nooooo, he doesn't mean it, not my Jack." Damn my love of skins.

And really, characterization is the strong point of Eden Lake. Even though I have read a fair deal of reviews that contradict this statement. No. You guys are wrong. I can't hear you. Lalalalalalalalalalalalala.

The characters are developed just FINE thank you so much. You really really like Jenny and Steve. You're rooting for them. Goddamit, you WANT them to make it out okay and get married, and go live somewhere very very industrialized and NEVER GO CAMPING AGAIN. I was definitely pulling for them, and no, not just because Michael Fassbender is much too pretty die somewhere that dirty.

And really, if you want to get into characterization and psychology. Let's look at Jenny for a minute.

Kelly Reilly is really a very underrated actress. Who I really should gave a grudge against for the simple fact that she has the ability to keep getting cast in rolls where she gets to make out with Spooky's favorite boys. Seriously - Dead Bodies with Andrew Scott, Sherlock Holmes with Jude Law, and now Michael Fassbender. You bitch. No, I'm kidding, I love you.

Jenny begins the movie as this fragile, non confrontational character. While Steve is ready to tell people off and huff and puff when things irritate him, Jenny is just as happy to let them blow over so no one needs to raise their voice. But as she is pushed she grows from mousey damsel to the sort of heroine you hope for in these kinds of movies. And did I mention she does this all in some of the cutest dresses I've ever seen? Sure, I don't think most people of the camping-oriented persuasion would find her clothing choices good for the great outdoors, but meh. If anything I think the choice to have her run through the movie in demure, feminine clothing, was kind of a brilliant choice.

It's like they said "look at her, she's supposed to be this delicate thing who has small animals do her hair in the morning as she sings. But look what she can become." In this aspect Jenny is much like a heroine in a fairy tale like the Brother's Grimm. But not by Disney. Not by a long shot.

And much like a Grimm's fairtytale you do not just walk away from Eden Lake feeling good about the world. You feel like you need to take a long shower and then watch kitten videos on Youtube for the next three hours. You feel disoriented and more then just a little uncomfortable.

And for that I really do have to applaud them.

Okay, Okay, so strictly speaking, Eden Lake is NOT what I would consider "my kind of a horror film". If you know me, you know I like my horror movies a bit more in the supernatural and psychological department, and less in the "BLOOD BLOOD EVERYWHERE" fashion. Especially since I feel like these days you can't throw a rock without hitting a movie that is just about blood.

I've got news for you Horror Movie Industry, blood all over the place doesn't scare this girl. Hell, that's just a typical Friday night in the Pie household. I think you sincerely underestimate the sheer volume of bandages this girl goes through on a weekly basis. When you're as accident prone as me, blood is about as shocking and uncommon as a roll of toilet paper.

That being said, Eden Lake is not a bad little film. It has a message and it gets it out there. And from a cine-phile point of view it is shot BEAUTIFULLY. I know you can't tell from my grainy screen caps, but there are points when the camera pulls back to show wide angles of the all the nature and is AMAZING. The framing of shots and the subtle score of the film are really just lovely. It's odd to think of a horror movie as pretty - especially when people are getting brutalized and hobbling through a forest caked in their own blood, but seriously, it is PRETTY.

While I don't see myself running out to buy Eden Lake, I don't consider the evening I spent watching it to have been a waste either. And let's not forget the valuable message it has brought to us all:


I know this girl won't be any time soon.

Well, until next time kiddies.
Stay out of trouble AND the woods.

Hugs and Kisses

Spooky Pie

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Geek flail time of the Fang-banger persuasion

Okay, Okay, Okay, Okay, so I am more then a little aware of the fact that I made a pretty damn similar squee-filled post last year. But here's the fact of the matter my chickpeas, I love this stupid show like a bad habit. And, as any of you who watch it may know, last season, like those before it, ended in one hell of a cliff hanger. So For almost a year I've been impatiently awaiting the return of my favorite psychic waitress and her undead vampire beau.

(yes, I'm aware there is a lot of seething internet debate about who Sookie belongs with, and I'm getting into that here other then to just get out of the way that I have always been a Sookie and Bill girl, always will be, and no I am not going to argue about this with you)

So when, a few months ago, a teaser trailer was release, featuring Say Hi's "Devils" I may have gone a little bit mental

But I don't think I should be held responsible for the lethal combination of music I love and my favorite trashy TV show. I mean, really, a girl can only take so much. And really, True Blood is an almost overwhelming combination of more things I love then I would care to admit. So I'm bouncing like a kid who didn't take her Ritalin because ON SUNDAY THE WAIT IS OVER AND MY TRASHY VAMPIRE SHOW COMES BACK. DO YOU GET HOW AWESOME THAT IS??? THAT'S LIKE FOUR DAYS! THERE IS A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL!

And if you aren't psyched, seriously. Get psyched. Watch this damn trailer and get psyched.

And if you still aren't, then Jesus take the wheel, because there is no pleasing you. But keep your negativity to yourself my friend, I will have no raining on my True Blood parade. Especially with how royally my horror TV shows have disappointed me this season, and yes, I'm looking at YOU Supernatural. My only current regret is my lack of proximity to my fellow True Blood nerd friends, because otherwise I would probably be having some sort of ridiculously stupid premiere party with bite mark cookies and Hawaiian punch. Oh well, maybe this girl will have that party by herself.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Insidious (2011)

Dear Insidious,

what in the seven hells am I going to do about you? I have such conflicting feelings about you. Let's get one thing straight, you are not, by any stretch of the imagination a good movie. You are most certainly the exact opposite of that. The problem is there were definitely things about you that I really liked, and I feel like you had the potential to be a good movie and you just sort of went "OH GOD! WE CAN'T BE HAVING NONE OF THAT!!!!" and just threw your hands up and went squealing all the way to the dumpster where this film inevitably ended up.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, as I'm like to do. I'll blame it on my long absence from this blog and just missing all my Spooky Dos so damn much.
(seriously kids, how have you been? Mama's sorry she hasn't checked in on you)

The premise of Insidious is initially a rather simple one. Laughably so. Like you would look at the synopsis and go "wow... because THAT'S never been done."

Renai and Josh Lambert are a young couple who have just moved into a new house with their three children Dalton, Foster, and baby Cali. The house is question, looks like one that I've seen at least 7 horror movies take place in, and so I immediately question their collective wisdom in moving into it. I mean really, the interior looks just like the freaking house that they shot House of the Devil in... which should have been a tip off for me, since I was just so fond of that movie.

Shortly after they move in all sorts unsettling things start happening: Doors open and close on their own, phantom voices start talking through the baby monitor, you know fun stuff. And then Renai and Josh's son Dalton falls into a coma with no medical reason behind it whatsoever. Renai gets progressively more hysterical, and justifiably so, and is convinced that everything horrible happening to them is because the house. Josh, however, poo poos the whole thing until Renai finally has a big fat hysterical melt down and then he changes his tune to "oh damn, maybe we should move."

... yeah. Maybe you should.

So they move into a significantly less creepy, and smaller house. Why they needed to live in a house with eighty rooms to begin with was totally beyond me, but hey, I didn't write this movie. And all seems to be going better for everyone, except that Renai starts seeing a whole NEW bunch of dead things, all of which seem concentrated around their son Dalton.

Long story short, they end up calling in paranormal experts that made me feel like I was watching The Ghostfacers spin off of Supernatural. (It's okay if you didn't get that reference, I still like you). And it turns out it isn't the house, or houses, that are haunted, it's THEIR SON, because no one saw that coming. And all the spirits are drawn to the fact that there is essentially and empty living person that they want to cram their fat selves inside and take a stroll.

So here's the problem. If that was just the movie I would have been totally cool with it. Sure, it's a little predictable, but hey, that's fine. But then it turns into SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY and the last third of the movie turns into this really convoluted story about astral projection and demons, and lots of little sub plots get introduced only to be promptly forgotten.

And I end up thinking "Why couldn't we have just stayed with the ghosts? I liked the ghosts! The ghosts were GOOD", and it's true, they are. There are some genuinely spooky scenes of the ghosts that remind me of why Thirteen Ghosts is such a guilty pleasure for me; the ghosts are so DAMN COOL.

Not to mention the fact that title sequence was actually pretty nifty. It felt like a complete homage to the supernatural horror films of the 1970's. So I actually got my hopes up way too high because I thought for a hot minute that Insidious was going to be a new awesome cult movie that felt like it was made thirty years ago. And they had a fairly decent cast, Rose Byrne is absolutely lovely and fragile as Renai, and while it's taken me forever to stop thinking of Patrick Wilson just as "that pedophile from Hard Candy", he didn't too bad either (and I warmed to him considerably after Watchmen). Plus Barbara Hershey and Lin Shaye, who is no stranger to the horror circuit.


I won't lie I actually yelled in the theater when this movie ended. That's how much just "OH WHAT????" it built up in me.

It could have been amazing, instead it just turned into a really really weak attempt to become M. Night Shyamalan's ugly stepsister. I mean, good grief Insidious! Get some self respect! Look at your life! Look at your choices!

It's like they were writing the script and got to the last one third and just all looked at each other and went

"Oh God! What do we do now???"

"Give the bitches some weird demon nonsense! Bitches love weird demon nonsense!"

Which is erroneous you guys. At least this bitch was impressed anyway. And few things annoy me more in a movie then wasted potential. And if you were going to just throw some nonsense in at the last minute, at least make it like, the Cthulu or something.... or, you know, Benedict Cumberbatch.

Okay, so I'm going to collect myself and take some deep breaths now. You kids be good until I come back.

Love and kisses,

Spooky Pie

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Guess who's back? Back, again. Spookys' back, tell a friend

Hello Internet Dears and Darlings, I feel like its been ages since we've spoke. Which is, mostly, because this last semester completely kicked my ass, so all the time I'd usually had to be watching horror movies and inflicting my opinions of them on the populace at large was taken up by, blech, college.

But moving on, what's new.

Well, a BRAND SPANKING NEW TRAILER FOR DON'T BE AFRAID OF THE DARK is out now. And after tons of "it will come out later", "it will come out in winter", "it is always winter in Canada", there is now the official release date of August 26th (or the 12th? There still seems to be some conflict on that). And you had better believe that this girl will be doing her damnedest to find her way into a midnight screening.

Other then that, I have a whole backlog of things I've been meaning to review but haven't had time to, so hopefully that will be rectified over then next few weeks. Not to mention a whole dastardly long netflix queue full of shiny shiny horror movies I've yet to watch. So let's expect to see more of each other over the summer.

Hugs and Kisses

Spooky Pie

Monday, February 14, 2011

Happy "Fuck you if you're single" Day

get the bitch a Krampus, bitches loves Krampus

Yeah, so, have a good thing....


I'll follow you until you love me

Spooky Pie

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Exquisite Corpse (novel) - 1996

In a totally unbeknown to me coincidence, I sat down to write this review today and noticed that many of my fellow horror bloggers have been participating in "Women in Horror Month". I didn't even know that there was such a thing, but it seems mildly serendipitous that I should be reviewing a book by one of the undisputed Queens of horror during in such a month, Poppy Z. Brite.

Now, before anyone, especially Z, jumps down my throat for that statement, allow me to qualify it a bit. PZB has, for many years, toted herself as a "gay man in a woman's body", a statement that she got TONS of shit for over the years. And currently Z is attempting to undergo the Female to Male transformation, HOWEVER, Z has even described that from a young age she identified as a "musical loving Queen". So weather as a biological woman, or as the gay man she has always been beneath her skin, I feel that the title of "Horror Queen" is one that PZB should wear with honor.

Now, that all aside, let's get onto the meat (oh God, that was a regrettable turn of phrase to use in context with this book) of the review.

If you strip Exquisite Corpse down to its bones, (another regrettable phrase, wow, I'm batting zero), it's a love story. A really, really, twisted love story. Even though the two lovebirds in question don't even meet until a little over 3/4 of the way through the book; it's clear, in retrospect, that everything that comes before their meeting is Z foreshadowing their eventual romance, they are each other's destiny if you will. And if you won't, then take it outside, your negativity is bringing down the room.

In a relationship that would put Bonnie and Clyde to shame, our protagonists Andrew Compton and Jay Byrne are two serial killers with the Atlantic Ocean between them. However, as they discover when they finally meet up, they are cut from the same cloth, as they are incredibly similar in their preferences. The main difference between the two - Andrew likes to kill boys, then screw them, then keep 'em in his flat until they smell, at which point he throws them in the Thames.

Whereas Jay likes to screw boys, then torture them to death, and then, finally, eat them.


However, it stands to reason that Jay must be a good deal craftier, because while we begin the book with Andrew wasting away in a British prison, Jay is rumbling the about the streets of New Orleans, picking up transient pretty boys. The first part of the book mostly parallels between these two, Andrew's goings on in England versus Jay's in America. And whilst Jay is busy seducing his dinner, Andrew is pulling off an elaborate jail break that involves fooling everyone into thinking that he's dead and then busting out of the Morgue and pretty much slice 'n dicing his way to the airport. And without spoiling much of the journey of the book for you - he ends up in New Orleans.

Beneath the plot line of Andrew and Jay's eventual love at first sight encounter, there are two subplots; the first of a Vietnamese boy named Tran who is interested in Jay, and has a rocky past including an abusive relationship with his psychotic, HIV positive, ex-boyfriend. The other sub-plot is the HIV/AIDS epidemic in general, to the point that it is almost a character in the work. A third serial killer, if you will. Most of the supporting characters are HIV positive in the work, and it does deal quite sensitively with the subject matter of the men who are slowly dying of the disease. And it's an interesting juxtaposition against the relatively quick, gory, deaths of Jay and Andrew's victims. And its all set against the already macabre associated backdrop of New Orleans (thanks Anne Rice), which is an apt enough location. This is essentially a modern Gothic novel, and what says Gothic better then the French Quarter and above ground mausoleums.

So on a psychological level, that was incredibly interesting. However, as you can imagine with a book about two serial killers in love it is extremely graphic. The details of the murders, necrophilia, and cannibalism leave nothing to the imagination - to the point that I occasionally felt squeamish. ME! I watch slasher movies while eating spaghetti with tomato sauce! So, really, that should tell you something.

Without sounding too prudish, I should also note that it is downright pornographic in points. If Z doesn't pull punches with the violence, then she sure as hell doesn't when explaining sex to the readers. And if I'm admitting that I got a bit squeamish with the gore, I will have to also admit that some of the sex scenes had me clutching at my pearls and lamenting my delicate modern sensibilities, in a full on southern accent.

But I don't want you going into the book, should you choose to read it, thinking it is nothing but "sex,sex,sex, graphic murder, eating people, some more sex" ... sure, there is plenty of that. But there is also plenty of interesting psychology tucked inside as well, especially since roughly a third of the book is told from the perspective of Andrew Compton, so literally, the mind of a serial killer. So, if you're interested in abnormal psychology, or serial killers this might well be your cup of tea. But, like when I reviewed Chuck Palahniuk's Haunted, I feel that it's only responsible for me to warn you that if you don't have a strong stomach you should put this book down, now, really.

It's okay, just set it down on the table and walk away. Nobody is judging you, we're all friends here.

So, if you feel like curling up this Valentine's Day with a really warped love story, then PZB delivers that. If not, I don't know, there's always Jane Austen or something. With or without zombies or sea monsters.

So until next time kids,
play nice, tip your waitresses, you know the drill.

Hugs and Kisses my Spooky-Dos

Spooky Pie

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Season of the witch (2011)

Okay, okay. Right about now you're probably going "what? Another review? Within a week? But Spooky you never do this! Are you sick?"

Well kids, the answer to all your questions is "yes", unfortunately. My few remaining days of freedom before university starts back up and I manage to get a head cold.

But hey, there are few things that are better to do than to sit around in a movie theater drinking Coke Zero when you're just a bit under the weather. Me and carbonation are like this. So when the whole "Do you want to go see 'Season of the Witch'?" came up I was like:

"oh sure."

So here's the part where I have to put in the pre-note that despite how trendy people seem to find it these days to heap on the Nicolas Cage hate, I consider myself not standing with the haters on the left, because I don't care, I find the man entertaining.

Here's my second unpopular opinion, I actually kinda, sorta, maybe ... liked this movie. But please, hold your stones until the end kids.

And keep in mind all the good times we've had...

... Please?

First off, to clear up any possible misconceptions, this is not a re-make of the 1973 George A. Romero film of the same title. This one is set during the crusades, and most specifically, the witch trials. Oh yes, and we even open with a good old fashioned one - but at least while you know that the 'villain' of the film is the supposed which, there are no pretenses that the church is the paragon of virtue in this tale.

Which is sort of what introduces us to our main characters Hell Boy and Ghost Rider Felson and Behman, played by Ron Perlman and Nicolas cage, respectively. These fine lads are two knights of the church who have recently become disenfranchised with the supposed "Holy War"; and its tendency towards brutally killing innocents.

But, generally, the church looked on deserters about as kindly as they do witches and through a series of events they get coerced into escorting a supposed witch to an abbey where priests can perform a certain rite on her, because, oh yeah, she apparently is causing the Bubonic plague.

But our boys, they be chivalrous, so they only agree to go along if the girl gets fair trial. The merry little troupe is fleshed out by another knight, a boy who wants to grow up to be one, and priest who is, shock, a complete douche bag, and a merchant because he knows the land.

Along the way there are plenty of "is she a witch?" "Isn't she a witch", "Is she bad?" "Isn't she bad?". And lot's of Ron Perlman being a bad ass that you really ought to think a moment before trifling with.

Okay, so maybe not a very complex plot, but, you know, that can work sometimes.
And honestly, after my last foray into cinema with The Church I have to say that there is something to be said for a movie that makes sense and doesn't just leave me wailing: "WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED HERE?!?!?!" for two hours.

So I'm not sure if I should attribute it to the fact that sometimes I go to movies just to shut my brain off and be entertained, or maybe that I went into it with basically zero expectations; but I just couldn't hate this movie.

So yeah, it's not going to win any awards for being the most brilliant to ever grace the silver screen, but it does make a for a fun night.

I just realized that this was pretty short as far as my reviews go, but eh, it's better than just going on and on and on and on...

Also, I think that I need to watch something that has nothing to do with the freaking crusades next or I may well go daffy.

So that's all I got, I'm off to have a hot cuppa and watch the Buffy marathon that's running Chiller right now, and winge about like I'm on my death bed.

Because I believe that's standard protocol when you have a cold ... or something. Nobody tells me anything.

So until next time, hugs not drugs, tip your waitresses, you know the drill.

Hugs and Kisses,

Spooky Pie

Monday, January 17, 2011

The Church (1989)

So, in the general spirit of thing, when Miss Stacie Ponder over at Final Girl announced that The Church was going to be the new film for Final Girl Film Club I decided to show my individualism by promptly hopping my spooky bum onto the bandwagon. Hush you, hush.

The trouble is, I watched said film club movie and then went "Wow ... what the Hell am I even going to say about this?"

What indeed, my darling Spooky Do's?

I've had almost 48 hours to digest this movie and I still have no idea what the hell it was I watched. I think the big problem was that it was a Dario Argento film, in the truest sense.

Now, you might be saying "But Spooky! Isn't Suspiria one of your favorite horror movies EVER?", and you're not wrong random person I don't know, it is. However, I think I may have been truly spoiled by the fact that Suspiria was my first Argento film. So, of course, I saw it, I adored it, I decided I needed to try and get my sugary little hands on as much more Argento as I could.

I mean, if the man was capable of the masterpiece that is Suspiria, his other works must be great too! Right?

After spending one of my coveted "apartment to myself" weekends watching such examples of his films as Deep Red and Opera, I can safely say that, no, no this isn't the case at all.

Argento somehow stumbled onto something beautiful and awe-inspiring with Suspiria, and true to the old adage, lightening didn't strike the same place twice. His other films struck me as largely plotless jumbles, with some occasional jarring music thrown in, and liberal amounts of thick, almost play-doh looking blood. Yes, he has a good eye, and yes each of his films has instances of absolutely gorgeous cinematography and framing, but if you remember my review of Parasomnia, you'll recall my sentiment that just making the movie pretty won't necessarily make me able to sit through it.

And I'm sorry to say, like the other aforementioned films, I found The Church to be much like that.

Okay, well here's the part where I try to explain the thin amount of plot that there was. Because, really kids, I did just feel like this was one huge jumble of "WHAT??? WHAT??? WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!?".

All right, here we go. So we start out with a bunch of knights who have apparently tracked down a village of witches? Maybe? This doesn't really get explained. One of the village girls offers the leader of the knights water, and he freaks the Hell out because it's tap and he only drinks imported bottled water from the Swiss Alps.

So him and all his apeshit knight friends kill the whole village, and throw them in a giant hole. Then one of the lead knight's advisers has the AMAZING (and by amazing, I mean incredibly stupid), that the only way to purify the land that this den of sin was they have to build a church right on top of it.

I don't get the logic, but hey I wasn't a bat-shit crazy person in the middle ages.

Also, I really felt like at some point it was just going to degenerate into the Spanish Inquisition.

But Monty Python may possibly have been too culturally accurate for this film. I'll let you take minute to soak that idea up.

Moving right along...

We cut to "modern times", or at least the eighties, and the titular church that was built atop the bodies of the non-Evian drinking hippies that the knights slaughtered.

The amazing Plastic Librarian, a.k.a Evan I-don't-have-a-last-name is starting his first day of work cataloging at the church. He seriously looks like a kind of deranged Ken doll. En route a girl restoring a fresco drops her art supplies on his head, so he asks her out.

This is my flirtation method too kids, someone throws things at me and I think "HOT DAMN!" Obviously, Evan, like me, still assumes that the romantic world still operates like it did in Elementary school and you have to wait for someone to hurl something at you before you can tell whether or not they like you.

Evan then makes his way to the library, where he meets Lottie, played by Asia Argento, Dario Argento's daughter, because for some reason he likes to cast her in really uncomfortable roles, all things considered. Lottie lives in the church because her father does ... something. He's a Sacristan? I'm afraid I'm showing my ignorance because I had NO IDEA what that was, but hey, whatever, I don't imagine it's going to come up much.

Evan ends up uncovering a text that promises him eternal life if he unlocks something beneath a stone with seven eyes. This, obviously, is going to end well. Because, apparently, under the stone is Argento's version of Whedon's Hellmouth.

yes, I know this pre-dates Buffy, but Buffy is A LOT better, so therefore I am going to give Joss the props here

So Evan unlocks the evil door, and get possessed.... I think. Or he just decides to be a pedophilic rape fiend for the fun of it. I don't know. The man is weird. But this is a little strange, because you really got the feeling that the film was going to be about Evan with-no-last-name, and the art supply throwing girl. But apparently Evan is just there to be a sweaty perverted device to move the film along.

Apparently, and I'm as shocked as you are here, the real main characters in The Church are Lottie, and Father Gus, the black priest and ONLY ATTRACTIVE MAN IN THE WHOLE MOVIE. I am supposing that the reason behind this is that him and Lottie are supposed to be examples of untainted good in the face of the evil leaking out of the hole under the church.

That's a bit confusing though. You know next to nothing about Father Gus, other than that he likes archery, and has really strange visions about a sprinting, dwarf version, of one of the extra's from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. But okay, he's a priest, he gets some slack. But Lottie? The child is like twelve, and she sneaks out every night to do drinking, dancing, and I'm sure whoring. I'm pretty confused on why she should be a moral compass. But hey, what do I know, I didn't write this movie. Obviously, if I did it would star Eli Roth and Benedict Cumberbatch. Like all movies I would make.

Apparently when the church was created, it was made with some sort of self destruct function that would activate if the evil within the church were released. Well, that kicks off, and the church seals itself up. This traps all aforementioned people, as well as a bunch of kids on a field trip, a biker couple, a film crew doing a modeling shoot, and an old couple inside the church.

So then comes the choice; either activate the "kill switch" and destroy the church so that the evil doesn't destroy the outside world, or let it take its course, and it'll probably wipe out everything on earth.

While this pot is boiling, everyone in the church starts being effected by the evil and essentially going balls crazy. And here's where any sort of sane plot we might have had put up its hands and walked away in defeat.

Because from here on out, it's people hallucinating, stabbing other people with gate partitions, molesting each other, decapitating their spouses, and performing candlit satanic rites in the nude.

Is my earlier assessment of "What the Hell even just happened here?" beginning to make some sense?

I think my brain kind of checked out somewhere between the bizarre plastic-wrapped orgy and the man hallucinating that there is a giant fish trying to eat his face.

Like I said before:


Dear God on a tuna melt, what was this all even about?

I don't know, I really just .... ack. I don't know at all.

But, like I said before it is pretty to look at. So, in fact, when I was going back to screencap it, and I just had my iTunes on, and the movie audio on mute it wasn't all that bad. While Argento misses the mark with a fair amount of things, the man knows how to set up a film so that it looks like a piece of art.

Usually I can sit down and figure out the message behind a horror film. Because they are a common used medium for such a thing. Look at the Romero zombie films and how full of social commentary they were, or even the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers, or films like Kairo and Suicide Circle which reflect Japan's concern with the increasing lack of connection the country's youth possesses with itself as well as as a whole.

If The Church had any sort of a message I will be damned if I could decipher it.

I'm not going to lie, I think I've run out of everything I can say about this movie other than just tons and tons of ellipses indicating awkward pauses as I open and close my mouth trying to figure out what to say about the damn thing.

I guess it's not a terrible movie, and if you wanted to put on your favorite CD and just have something to stare at, some of the visuals are pretty hypnotic, so that might not be a bad day.

But this girl's head still hurts from how much she was scratching it after watching this one. I'm going to have to go catch up on Dexter now or something to get rid of the weird taste that The Church left behind.

So, until next time,

Hugs and kisses kiddies, and stay in school

Spooky Pie

Saturday, December 25, 2010


If that doesn't give you the warm fuzzies then God help you, I don't know what will. But is this season of festivity and giving really about love and kindness? Have we forgotten the true meaning of Christmas? And by true meaning, I am, of course, referring to;


For the love of God and all that is holy, HAVE WE FORGOTTEN ABOUT KRAMPUS?!?!.

Sure, when most people think of Christmas the first image that comes to mind is kindly old Saint Nick breaking and entering into our households in the name of tasty, tasty commercialism. But the real ringleader in this circus is his friend, the demon Krampus. Let's face it, there are things, much, much, much worse than getting friggin' COAL for being naughty.

Good 'ol Krampus likes to beat Naughty Children with Rusty chains and then stuff them in his sack. I don't know where Krampus takes the little Hell spawns, and quite frankly, I don't want to.

So ladies and gentlemen, as you sit down to your happy Christmas activities this year, just take a moment and remember the sage advice of our good friend Stephen Colbert.

Krampus knows when you've been naughty, knows when you've been nice,


Happy Christmas Dears and Darlings!

Spooky Pie

Monday, December 20, 2010

Haunted (novel) - 2005

Some of you may, or may not, know that I basically heart Chuck Palahniuk more than what probably lies in the realm of human decency.

Sure, sometimes I have a hard time remembering how to spell his last name, and yes there is the matter of that pesky little restraining order (I kid, I kid). But in short, I pretty much devour every book of his as soon as I can get my mitts on it.

However, I was somewhat resistant to reading Haunted for awhile. This is largely because instead of being just one large storyline, it breaks off into sub stories told by each of the characters. And, generally speaking, I don't usually go for 'anthology' type books, mostly because I like to have the entire novel to get to know the characters, get a feel for them. When it's a bunch of short stories I usually feel like the individual tale ends before I have gotten anywhere in the neighborhood of giving a good, and honest, damn about the characters.

Well, a pox on me for being such a ridiculous ninny! Why I thought good 'ol Chuck would fail me this time, when he never has in the past, I don't know. I'm a silly bitch.

So the essential idea of Haunted is this;
Seventeen people sign up for a three month Writer's Retreat. They are to be completely cut off from the outside world during that time, and are told that this will be the time to write the masterpiece of their career.

No real names are allowed, and everyone is allowed only one suitcase. In theory, none of the participants are in any real danger, the only real trouble is that no one is allowed to leave before the three months is up, and the retreat is below ground and remote enough that escape is highly unlikely.

The real trouble comes from the seventeen writer's realization that rather then create their own master works, they are going to gain a fortune telling their story to the outside world. Of how they were held captive, tortured, forced to survive without heat or food.

None of this is actually inflicted on the writers by the people organizing the retreat. It's the writers themselves who become their own villains, even though, for the sake of the story, they have painted the organizer and his assistant as their villains and captors. So it really isn't that surprising when the writers begin to die off one by one, and with each one who bites the dust the others don't mourn; they just discuss how they will have to split the royalties in fewer directions.

On the side of the core narrative of the goings on in the retreat, as told by an unnamed narrator. Each character has a side story, and each story has to deal with what dark secret drew them to hideout in the retreat.

As the title would suggest, each of the writers is, in fact, Haunted.

Throughout the course of the book comparisons keep being drawn between this little group of writers, shut off from the outside world, and the Villa Dioda. For those of you not in the know, this is where Mary Shelley, Lord Byron, Percy Shelley, and John Pollidori holed up; this resulted in the writings of both Frankenstein and The Vampyre. And it's an easy enough comparison to draw, and, more than likely, since it is Palahniuk who gives us this parallel, that this was in fact what inspired him to write Haunted.

However, this is really not the comparison that most came to mind for me whilst I was reading this novel. Throughout the whole thing I could not help but be reminded of Jean-Paul Sarte's No Exit, and it's chilling, most infamous line:

Hell is other people.

For those of you unfamiliar with Sarte's work, No Exit is about three completely unrelated people who die and end up locked in a room together. After a bit they realize that they are in Hell and each one speculates on who is the torturer and what torment they will receive. It soon becomes evident that there isn't a torturer, it's just the three of them, locked in a room together, for all of eternity. The only torment stems from the way they treat each other. Which leads to the one character's realization that "Hell is other people".

And, considering that all the harm that comes to the players of Haunted comes from themselves, is it any wonder that No Exit was the first thing that came to mind? I didn't think so.

Do I recommend Haunted, yes, but NOT IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH. This novel is really quite grisly at points, considering one of the short stories called Guts, Palahniuk read aloud and reportedly has had multiple faint from listening to it. Also it was a story controversial enough that it got a Highschool teacher sacked for having his students read it.

So really, bare that in mind, and I don't even think that it's the most disturbing part of the book. HOWEVER if that is something that you can get past it's a GREAT book, not my favorite of his works, but still pretty damn amazing in this girl's opinion.

Okay, so there you have it.

Kisses and hugs.

Spooky Pie

Monday, December 6, 2010

Peeping Tom (1960)

Well, ladies and jelly-spoons, today's offering is a bit of an oldie, but it's like what they say about re-runs; "If you haven't seen it before, then it's new to you".

So, I will grudgingly admit that this girl didn't even know of this film's existence until about a year and a half ago, but I guess that shouldn't be so surprising, considering the sort of reception 'Peeping Tom' got when it was released caused it to get relocated to the status of 'cult film'.

Sure, by today's standards, 'Peeping Tom' is about as disturbing as moldy pudding, but this was England in 1960, stiff upper lip and what have you, through that lense its understandable that at the time it was considered pretty much the filthiest thing ever.

I'm not going to say that there aren't themes in 'Peeping Tom' that even by today's standards aren't a bit risque, but in our modern age of films like 'Hostel', 'The Hills have eyes', and Hell, even 'Silence of the Lambs', this film is shot in such a tasteful fashion that you almost can forget that there are some deeply warped psychological themes at work here. Almost.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Much to my disappointment, the lead of this film is not, actually, named Tom. I guess that would have been to kitsch, but whatever. His name is Mark Lewis (I still think that is should have been Tom), he works as a 'scene puller' for a movie studio. I don't know tons about making movies, but as far as I could tell its got to do with setting the optimal scene up so all the camera man has to do is press the button. Mark also works part time taking erotic pictures for small newspaper store.

A little odd, but meh.

Anyway, Mark is a pretty quiet unassuming kind of a guy. Except for the fact that he likes to murder prostitutes with his tripod, whilst filming their expressions as they bite it.

But, you know, who doesn't ...

He also spends almost every night in his little home theater re-watching his snuff films. This is pretty much the extent of his social interaction until one night when he comes home from a long night of staking prosies and runs into his downstairs neighbor Helen.

She's having a party for his 21st (yeah, right, 21st) birthday. She tries to get him to come join the party, but, being the socially awkward thing he is, Mark declines and scurries upstairs to his apartment.

Now too long after this Helen traipses upstairs with a slice of cake and wiggles her way into his apartment, and his home theater. Once inside she pretty well browbeats Mark into showing her one of his little films. A bit pushy, but hey, some people like forthright broads.

Mark has enough common sense to not show her one of his 'stabby-stabby' productions, and instead pulls out a reel that introduces us to the undercurrent of the film that is possibly even more disturbing then the obvious one of Voyeurism.

The film that Mark shows Helen is one of him as a little boy that his father took. Apparently, Daddy was a psychiatrist, and a pretty warped one at that. His main focus was studying the effect of fear on people, specifically children. So he experimented on his own son, and filmed the results. We aren't shown what, exactly, the old man did to young Mark, but leaving it to the viewer's imagination lets us assume the worst possible.

And so lays our groundwork for Mark as a serial killer; his fascination with viewing everything through the lens of a camera, and his further fixation on fear. The only thing not surprising about this whole thing is that Mark doesn't have Daddy's bones under the floorboards or something.

Despite the fact that any sane person would have taken their fashionable taffeta party dress and ran like hell, this actually sparks a sort of romantic relationship between Helen and Mark.

Go figure.

Their little romance is pushed a long by the fact that Helen is writing a Children's book about a child with a magical camera, and she wants Mark to collaborate with he for the pictures of the book. He agrees, giddily, even.

While on one hand he is having a sort of sweet, childish, romance with Helen, he is still making his snuff films on the side. Adorable, right?

Early on in their courtship, Helen's blind mother's "spidey senses" go off about Mark, and despite her warning her daughter against him, Helen goes along merrily with her beloved serial killer.

But when one of Mark's victims for the sake of cinema is high profile enough that it gets a full on investigation going, Mark starts to lose his cool a bit, and enter into a downward spiral, eventually leading to the film's conclusion.

Okay, the plot is a little simple, but if you are able to get beyond that, 'Peeping Tom' is a psychological goldmine.

Voyeurism is definitely the prevailing theme in this film, and its done quite cleverly if you're willing to give it a good look.

The opening of the film is shown entirely as though you are looking through the lens of Mark's camera. This makes the viewer, the audience, into the predator. Stalking the first victim from the street, up to her loft, and closing in on her face as she is killed in a way that makes you feel like you're even hovering over this woman, and delivering the final blow yourself.

In this sense its a commentary on society and its desire to look at the grisly/uncomfortable. 'Peeping Tom' is just an analysis on mankind's need to stop and stare at car wrecks. Ironically, the same public that loudly denounced 'Peeping Tom' as "nauseating" and "vile", are the same people who slow down to look at a freeway accident, with no intention of helping the people involved.

Mark is just one person made into an analogy for the majority of mankind.

And another thing is, beyond the fact that, yes, Mark is totally a cold-blooded serial killer, he is still a character that you feel sympathetic towards. The way he acts with Helen is so charming its ridiculous, he becomes a little boy around her. Especially when you take into account that this was a guy who didn't really get to have a childhood thanks to dear old dad.

I will admit, that at first I had trouble with Mark as a lead. Mainly because through all of it I felt like I was watching Graham Norton's deranged uncle.

tell me you don't see it

But once I got past that, he was kind of endearing. But then again, I've been known to sympathize with the protagonist anti-hero in these types of things.

Right, so, should probably wrap this up because I'm running out of things to say that won't be just long rambling nonsense. So let's tie this up here.

Is 'Peeping Tom' worth watching? I think so. I can see how it is considered a classic, and I also see how it can be seen as a compliment to Alfred Hitchcock's 'Psycho'. No, I don't think it's for everyone, and I'm pretty sure that by today's standards it's too slow moving for a lot of people. And it's not a gore fest by any stretch of the imagination, in fact the murders are very subtle. At the heart of it, 'Peeping Tom' as actually a quite sensitive movie, and I think that if most of the critics who slammed it took a closer look at it, they would see that it actually a quiet, repressed, almost heartbreaking portrait of a psychologically damaged little boy trapped in the guise of a grown man.

So until next time my darlings,
Love and kisses!

Spooky Pie