Sunday, August 29, 2010

You like me! You really like me!!!!

It's amazing to me that, despite my recent relative negligence of this wonderful blog 'o mine, I have some how managed to have been give multiple awards for it. You have no idea how much this warms my black little heart Spooky Do's, NO-I-DE-A!!!

However, the posts you are supposed to do when you get one of these are more work than my lazy self usually has the willpower to do, which is why I am only now, over a month later (I'm sorry, I'm a terrible girlfriend, I understand if you want to see other people) finally getting to making my post about even the first one. Okay, now that that's out of the way....

Both The Girl who Loves Horror And Oriel over at Fear of Fiction have awarded yours truly with this beauty:



So then, here be the rules ...

1) Thank the person who gave you the award.

2) Tell people seven things about yourself

3) Nominate fifteen other blogs to receive said award, and tell them about it.


Okay, I guess its sharing time you guys, I hope we can still be friends after this.

Seven Things about Spooky Pie


1. I have a bizarre pathological need to drop everything I'm doing and sing along to 'Sweet Home Alabama' every time I hear it, this is occasionally very awkward depending on where I am at the time.

2. One of my ultimate 'I am in a bad mood, I need something to make me happy' movies is Doom. Because, honestly, when I'm having a bad day there are few things that cheer me up better than Karl Urban stalking around with a giant gun, kicking ass and taking names.
Say what you like about the movie, but this girl digs hot men with BFGs.

3. My first car ever was named Sadako, yes, after the girl from Ringu. She was a black '64 Ford Falcon Wagon, remarkably resembled a mini-hearse, and was the love of my life. I miss that car like whoa.

4. I love Nerf Guns. They are superfluous and have no reasonable place in my life. I don't care, they make me happy. I recently bought a knock-off brand of Nerf gun because it was a double barrel shot gun, complete with cocking mechanism and shells that eject themselves. This was also about the point that I learned what an incredibly patient person my roommate is.

5. When I am stressed or unhappy I bake, a lot. You can generally tell my current state of being by the quantity of cupcakes, cookies, and other baked goods dominating my apartment.

6. The first horror movie I was allowed to go see in the theater was The Haunting in 1999. It's a crappy re-make of an amazing classic horror movie, but at the time I was 11 and I thought it was creepy as all hell. So I have to admit that I still have quite the soft spot for it, despite its being utter rubbish.

7. I basically have a shrine to Fatal Frame in my living room, complete with a pre-release promo poster for Fatal Frame II, an antique camera, and a collection of Little Apple Dolls that resemble ones found in the games

Fifteen Blogs that I love like WHOA


1. Kindertrauma
2. Final Girl
3. ~The Phantasmagorium of Professor Pym~
4. American Gothica
5. Now Kindly Undo These Straps
6. Arbogast on Film
7. Scare Sarah
8. The Unflinching Eye
9. The Halloween Blues
10. The Vault of Horror
11. Dr. Blood's Video Vault
12. Things That Don't Suck
13. Evil on Two Legs
14. The Groovy Age of Horror
15. The Drunken Severed Head


Now if y'all excuse me, I've got something in my eye.

♥ ♥ ♥

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Don't Be Afraid of the Dark (1973)



Well, it's been awhile since I've done a good old fashioned review her at TGDH, too long, I know, I'm a bad girlfriend to you internets, I'm sorry. Moving on though, considering my overwhelming excitement about Guillermo Del Toro's re-imagining of "Don't be Afraid of the Dark" I thought I should see the original. Which turned out to be easier said than done.

Considering it was a made for TV movie from the 70's, it was stupidly difficult to hunt down. And when I finally did I ended up with a slightly rubbish version, that at times made weird blipping noises on the sound track, and at other times the audio didn't quite synch up, and was fairly grainy the whole way through. By I plodded through it, my darlings, I plodded through it for YOU.

Yes you, in the back of the room, trying to sneak out like you thought I couldn't see you! Sorry buster, pointing right at you, so get back in your seat, no one leaves until the presentation is over.

Anyway, stop distracting me now or we'll never get out of here. So 'Don't be Afraid of the Dark'. Wow, I feel that this is one that I can have an absolute Academic field day with, dissecting the intentional, or otherwise, symbolism that this film is filled to the brim with. On the surface, it's like 'Poltergeist', 'The Descent', and snippets of the original 'Dark Water' were thrown into a pot together and mashed up like potatoes. But, like I said, that's just on the surface. And if there is one evident thing that 'Don't be Afraid of the Dark' deals with, it's that what you see on the outside in no way matches the inner workings.



So before we pop the hood and take a look at the engine, so to speak, let's inspect the body of the thing, since so much of this film deals with the idea of a disconnect between inside and outside. So then, on the outside, our film opens with, seemingly, normal, well off, red-blooded American, husband and wife team Sally and Alex Farnham.

Sally has inherited an enormous, gorgeous, mansion from her grandmother. I can write volumes on how much I love that damn house, but we'll come to that later. Sally, however, thinks that Grandma didn't have half the sense God gave her when it comes to interior decorating, so her and her flamboyant decorator buddy are in the process of ripping the place to shreds and throwing as much paint, draperies, and area rugs to mask Grandmama's apparent poor taste. Alex, the human Ken doll, is content to let Sally just wreck as much havoc as possible, because hey, she's a woman, let's just let her do her womanly things.

Alex is generally not concerned about Sally's interests anyway. Alex is only concerned about Alex's business. He's a lawyer ... or something? He might just be a professional douchebag. His policy seems to be that if Sally isn't organizing a party or fixing him a sammich, she should just shut the Hell up. So as Sally continues to try and fill the hole in her soul that might otherwise be filled with spousal affection she stumbles in to dear old Grandad's boarded up study. And by study, I mean tiny dark room probably filled with mildew. For some reason or another Sally thinks that this place is HER IDEAL ROOM LIKE WHOA. LIKE SERIOUSLY, SHE NEEDS TO HAVE THIS ROOM LIKE FIVE DAYS AGO. And she in no way finds it odd that the fireplace is bricked up. Or that the old Carpenter man who has been helping with renovations says all kinds of creepy old man things about "some things being better left alone."

Sally decides that the old man, and probably her Grandad too, is a giant moron and just waits until he leaves and then jimmies the thing open with the tools he left behind. Because that's not a terrible idea or anything.



That is, of course, when everything goes to Hell. I bet you're shocked. I'm shocked, horrible things never happen when a somewhat spooky old man whose "done seen things with his own two eyes" is ignored. From that point on Sally starts being plagued by disembodied voices chanting her name, and doing juvenile pranks to make her look crazy.

All of these shenanigans start to make Sally go a bit apey, and Alex, being the supportive husband he is, basically informs her that she's stupid and to suck it up and throw him a party. But Sally wants her abusive asshole husband to be happy, so throws him a party despite being on the verge of a nervous collapse. Sally is a brave little soldier, so she puts on the most horrible 1970's dress she can get her hands on and plays the dancing bear for Alex's arrogant WASP friends. The little beasties Sally released from the fireplace don't like that these people are turning their house into party central, so they help Sally to have that mental breakdown that was in the making.



Alex is so sweet, and considerate, and attentive, that he is completely supportive of his wife's fragile mental state. And by supportive, I mean he sits her down and screams at the top of his lungs at her. He, in fact, at one point, bellows "STOP BEING SO SCARED" at her. I wish I was making that up. Obviously Alex won the title of 'Mr.Asshole '73'. So then Alex goes off with his fellow holier-than-thou bureaucrats and tells Sally that if she doesn't get the crazy out by the time he gets home he just might have to ship her off to one of those places that take care of hysterical women with overblown cases of the Vapors.

So then Sally is left alone with the little dudes that she let out. Who only show up when it's dark because they're ultra photosensitive. Fair enough. But honestly, much scarier before you actually see what they look like.

In theory, these things are akin to the "Crawlers" in 'The Descent'. Photosensitive beings that dwell in the underground, and shuffle around in the dark making bizzare noises. Although the similarity stops there, sure, I cut some slack because it's 1973. But the little demon things look like tiny sad old men with gorilla bodies. And that did kill a bit of the scare factor for this girl, sorry to say.



However, this film is a psychological goldmine. As when I discussed 'Candyman', I reiterate that I do not consider myself a feminist, but I could help but see a truly feminist angle to the film. Furthermore, 'Don't be Afraid of the Dark' comes across a more modernized version of the The Yellow Wallpaper. Just take away the fixation on ugly wallpaper with a woman supposedly lurking behind it, and make it a fixation on darkness dwelling creature and you have an almost direct parallel.

"It is very seldom that mere ordinary people like John and myself secure ancestral halls for the summer.
A colonial mansion, a hereditary estate, I would say a haunted house, and reach the height of romantic felicity--but that would be asking too much of fate! Still I will proudly declare that there is something queer about it.
Else, why should it be let so cheaply? And why have stood so long untenanted?
John laughs at me, of course, but one expects that in marriage.
John is practical in the extreme. He has no patience with faith, an intense horror of superstition, and he scoffs openly at any talk of things not to be felt and seen and put down in figures.
...
one's own husband, assures friends and relatives that there is really nothing the matter with one but temporary nervous depression--a slight hysterical tendency"


Intentional or otherwise, the resemblance is striking. Both women are wives of affluent husbands, both are expected to upkeep a certain appearance of Upper Society and any deviance is deemed dementia. In both cases as well the husband can be seen as just as much the aggressor as the women's respective "demons". And on the account of maintaining appearances, both women have to fight the evils on their own, while their husbands only start to be even remotely sympathetic when the hypothetical shit has already hit the fan.



Don't get me wrong. 'Don't Be Afraid of the Dark' is no masterpiece. It is flawed, intensely so. If you can get away from the fact that Sally is 'Miri' from the Original Star Trek episode of the same name, she doesn't exactly have the best acting skills, that and I had an intense paranoia that the other awful children from said Star Trek were going to show up at any minute, and that would be scarier than the cheaply done demons skulking through out the film. But bearing in mind that it was a made for TV movie from 1973, it actually holds its ground fairly well against cinema-bound movies of the same genre. If nothing else, it is worth a watch for the absolutely stunning house that it is shot in. Seriously, this girl would be beating down the door to live there.

Skulking demons be damned, I would vacuum up the little bastards and move on in.

However, it's an enjoyable, if not depth-plumbed watch. And it's a film that I cannot wait to see transformed in Guillermo Del Toro's more than capable hands.

Friday, August 13, 2010

The Creepiest Thing: FRIDAY THE 13TH EDITION!

Happy Jason Vorhees day y'all! I thought, what with it being Friday the 13th and what have you that this week called for an extra-special "The Creepiest Thing". Okay, so At first I thought that I should do a Jason themed thing. But I'm not gonna lie, boy doesn't creep me out, and this is a day for creepiness.

So without further ado, my dears and darlings I give you...

The Top 5

Creepiest Clowns

from

non-horror

mediums!



#5: Mr. Mime





Okay, so I'm sure not all of you are as closely acquainted with Powerpuff Girls as this girl is, so here, let me give you the basic rundown on why this guy is here. He starts out the episode, freakishly entitled "Mime for a change" as a clown that performs at children's birthday parties.

Which is, you know, already pretty creepy.

But then, later in the episode, he is crossing the street and gets involved in a car accident involving a semi full of bleach. Which turns him from "Rainbow the Clown" to "Mr.Mime".



He then proceeds to spend the episode draining all of the color and sound out of Townsville with a really freakishly twisted grin on his face. This results in Bubbles, the blond one, in case you didn't know, having a full scale meltdown. Pretty rightly too, after the guy takes the color and voices of her sisters and she's left alone and not even her box of crayolas can fix it.

I wasn't even a kid when I saw this episode. But really, really, so messed up.

#4: Krusty the Clown





I'm not going to lie, I've always been a little bit freaked by Krusty the Clown. Don't get me wrong, this girl totally watched the Simpsons as a child, however, I was always pretty unhappy when it would come to Bart and Lisa watching "The Krusty the Clown" show. Sure a big part of that was "The Itchy and Scratchy Show", which was traumatized the bejesus out of me as a kid.



Putting aside the uber violent Cat and Mouse show within a show within a show. Krusty was pretty disturbing to a child. Foul mouthed, alcoholic, and cigar smoking, not to mention all the really uncomfortable things associated with his restaurant and breakfast cereal.

But what really bothered me as a kid was the fact that he was always wearing the clown makeup.

You'd seem him away from the show, sleeping, whatever, and he would always have the painted face. Even a kid can tell you that isn't right, that with the fact that he is street rat crazy, he kind of reminds me of John Wayne Gacy, I'm just saying.

#3: The Clown Doctors from Pee Wee's Big Adventure





As a kid there were few things that I loved more than Pee Wee Herman. I would get ridiculously happy to see the show whenever it was on. I won't lie, the episode of Family guy where Peter Griffin gets rich and recreates Pee Wee's Playhouse in his living room, that's totally what I would do if I was an eccentric billionaire.

So of course it stand to reason that little Spooky Pie loved the movies as well. And I did, I really did, you know, except for that one part....



Really! Really! It's traumatizing enough the whole deal with him having to schlep all over Hell and back to find his bike. Not to mention the whole thing with "Large Marge", which is, you know, hilarious as an adult, not so much as a child. But then poor Pee Wee's dream about the clown Doctors! You guys, you guys, I don't even...

To a kid having to even think about going to the Doctor's is bad enough... but then having all the doctors and nurses be clowns? Lord, even as an adult I can't deal with it. Goddamit Tim Burton, I love you, but really now, what the Hell is your problem? No more clowns or I'll be forced to kick you in the knees. I'm sorry, but it's true. Oh, and tell Helena 'hi' for me, and that I'm sorry I couldn't make it to Thanksgiving.


#2: The Fireman Clown from the Brave Little Toaster





Oh 'The Brave Little Toaster', I'm pretty sure many people can point to that movie as something that really just scared the crap out of them as a kid. It's pretty much jam-packed with trauma-sponge fodder. To begin with, the whole idea that your appliances are sentient, and experience sorrow when cast aside by their owners is something pretty hard for a small child to get their head around. In some of us it instilled latent pack-rat tendencies, because they we felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for any fried lamp or broken clock that we were going to throw out. Okay, so maybe it was a huge piece of crap, and it hadn't worked in years. Beside the point! Think about this poor busted alarm clock all by itself Mom! I can't throw it away! Yeah, my mother was psyched.

Beside that, the journey of said brave little toaster is harrowing at best. And then there's that horrible scene where the air conditioner starts freaking out about the man being out to get him and then just freaking blows himself the Hell up. That was hard to watch without a stuffed animal and a blanket to hide behind. And then there's the scene where the Toaster has the nightmare about the Fireman Clown.



Okay Disney, where the Hell did that even come from? Clowns? This movie is not about clowns!!! And clowns throwing animate toasters into baths where they will have horrible electric deaths.... WHAT???? And I mean, it's not *JUST* a clown, look at the leering mug on that thing. Where is it from? Hell? I think it must be from Hell. I see no other option here.

#1: Ronald McDonald





Oh yes ladies and gentlemen, before there was Pennywise, there was Ronald McDonald. The original creepy, child snatching Clown waiting in the storm drain. Okay, maybe he didn't actually lie in wait in the sewer, but I challenge you to think of what clown makes you think the most of childhood trauma and, dare I say, pedophilia, who comes to mind first?
I do believe that will be our good friend Ronald each and every time.

Here's the interesting, though not entirely surprising thing; the Japanese have managed to make him even MORE freakish.



Oh Japan... each and every time I think you can't get any weirder you make me eat my words. This isn't even the worst one I've seen of the Japanese Ronald McDonald commercials, it is, actually, one of the least pedo-ish ones I've seen. If you feel like being creeped out, look it up on youtube. Only, you know, don't.


Well, thanks for tuning in for a very special edition of 'The Creepiest Thing', I am hopefully going to be more attentive to this blog again now that things are starting to settle down. Have a whole group of movies all lined up to watch, and a blog award that needs recognition. So Until then, love and kisses, and look out for razor blades in your candy.

Friday, July 30, 2010

The Creepiest Thing: 4th Edition



This week The Creepiest Thing is...

The Kia Soul 'Rapping Hamster' Commercial



Yeah, all right, it's a bit weird this week. I know, I know, it's a commercial. Seriously though, it is well creepy. I have had to see this thing over, and over, and over for the past few weeks and every single time it comes on I feel like I've just been assaulted.

Anthropomorphic RAPPING hamsters.

WHAT?!

WHAT?!

WHY DOES THIS EXIST? AM I BEING PUNISHED FOR SOMETHING?



Horror movies I can do. But this is just beyond creepy.

I do not understand the recent trend to make CGI animals that sing and dance, it's frightening, and then some. It's unnatural, it's freakish, and it is DOWN RIGHT SCARY.

I freely admit that I have come to fear anthropomorphic animals. And I'm looking at you for this Internets. If it weren't for you I could still watch Disney's Robin Hood without feeling the urge to openly weep. But what's done is done, and the fact remains that I will never be able to look at movies from my childhood the same way again. But at least that's easy enough, just don't put the DVD in, however at any given time that horrible thing might just pop out of nowhere and make feel all shell shocked.

Now, please don't think that I hate hamsters. This girl doesn't hate any animals...
except for monkeys. Sorry if that offends you kid, this girl hates monkeys.

I like real hamsters, real hamsters are cute.

See:


cute! Cuddly! Don't you want to take it home?

But wait ... what's this thing?


OHMIGOD WHAT THE FUCK EVEN JUST HAPPENED?!?!?!?!?!



Hamsters should be doing cute snuffly things. Hamsters should be snuggled and adored.

THEY SHOULD NOT BE ROLLING WITH THEIR HOMIES IN A KIA

I don't know you guys, I just don't know. How can I be scared by horror films when there's normal everyday things that are way freakier then anything in the movie theater ... well, with the exception of that horrifying "Cats Vs. Dogs" movie coming out.

Seriously you guys, if this is the turn that popular media is going to take this girl might have to go live in the forest next to a log.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Oh Guillermo Del Toro, be still my heart



So, your truly has returned safely to the world of her beloved horror blog. Whilst I was away from all my dears and darlings I happened to attend Comic Con International at which one Guillermo Del Toro unveiled the first glimpse of the teaser trailer, and prologue of his upcoming film "Don't be afraid of the dark".

You guys, you guys.

You have no idea how freakishly excited I am about this one.

This girl was wiggling in her seat with excitement the whole time.

I would be lying if I said that Guillermo Del Toro wasn't basically my hero, because he is. I can't help but love someone who not only adores horror movies as much as he does, but also breathes new life into the genre and creates films that are absolute works of art. I know I've dropped hints in past entries about my long standing love affair with his films Pan's Labyrinth and The Orphanage, so the second I found out that Del Toro would be making a new movie I went a bit mental.



At the panel Del Toro described the new film as : “hard-hitting, scary and classic, with an ending that hits you like a motherfucker”.

That excites me like you don't even know you guys.

I love horror movies, obviously, I basically devour them. Here's the things though, it has been years since a horror film actually scared me. I can, in fact pinpoint the last horror movie that actually scared the bejesus out of me, but that is a story for another day. I will say though that it was eight years ago.

How depressing is that.

That being said, the trailer for the new Del Toro actually gave me chills. No really, it looks like a horror movie that might scare even me. And I couldn't happier about that.

It doesn't hurt that the scares of this movie look like they are a call back to the latent fears of childhood, especially since one scene in the trailer is shot from the lead character, a little girl's, point of view as she crawls through her sheets clutching a flash light. When the thing she discovered was revealed at the end of the trailer's "jump" scene I basically squealed with joy.

This a horror movie that has been given an R-rating without having swearing, sexual content, or graphic scenes of gore. But the MPAA insisted that it take an 'R' as opposed to a 'PG-13' on account of "pervasive scariness".

PERVASIVE SCARINESS!!



I'm so excited it's freaking ridiculous.

Why isn't it January yet? Because I NEED this movie in my life.

Mr. Del Toro, I love you like a bad habit, and I have no intention of quitting you any time in the foreseeable future.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Moving might be the greatest horror ever



Well my Dears, Darlings, and Fellow Spooky-Dos; it would seem that I will be needing to neglect my lovely pet horror blog for the next week and a half or so.

See kids, your good friend Spooky Pie is in the process of moving herself into a new apartment, and also I have a vacation, of sorts, headed my way in the next week. This all pretty much means that my chances of being on the internet are slim to nothing during the next couple of weeks.

I know, I know, I suck.

I couldn't even have the next edition of "The Creepiest thing" up on account of all that. Ugg...

But I look forward to catching up on everyone's blogs when I return to the land of Cyber horror, so be good until I see you again.

♥ Spooky

Friday, July 9, 2010

The Creepiest Thing: 3rd edition



This week The Creepiest thing is...

Angler Fish



Okay, okay, I know that some of you out there might be going "Umm... wow, a fish huh?". Sure the 1st edition was about satanic audioanimatronics, and the second about flesh eating dolls, so it's a deviation that I have gone into the natural world for this week's installment. But let's be reasonable here people;

HAVE YOU LOOKED AT THESE ASSHOLES?

Angler Fish are pretty much one of the most horrible things in existence. Yes, I know, they live at the bottom of the ocean. Again, I also know that the chances me every crossing paths with one of them is slim to none.

Doesn't matter, I know that they're out there.

Lurking.

Waiting.

Sure, most of the things that have to be able to survive that deep under the water are pretty damn creepy, but the Angler Fish seriously take the cake. What's that? Still don't think that they deserve this week's slot? Okay then, let me explain to you EXACTLY why they do.

Their horrible mouths, filled with razor sharp teeth, wrap ALL THE WAY around their heads. In addition to this, they can also completely distend their jaws, and their friggin STOMACHS, so that they can swallow something that is over twice as big as they are. So, you know, if they adapted to being able to come into shallow water that would mean that they could swallow like, your baby.

Yeah. Top that "Dingo ate my baby" lady! Try competing with someone whose offspring was ingested by an Angler Fish! I bet you can't! HA!



Also, they're pretty much the biggest assholes ever.

That little dangly thing on their heads? They light it up and wave it around, which makes other fish think that it either

A) is something to eat
or
B) something that wants to play with them.

So the little fishes, feeling all safe and happy and lured into a sense of false security wiggle on up and get gnashed to death.

Do you remember that part in Finding Nemo? Where Marlin and Dori are tempted in thee deep, dark scary part of the ocean? Then suddenly, out of nowhere there is this light.

Ooooh, they're so happy, look at the light, it's so pretty. I makes them so happy, they float towards it and try to play with it. And then what happens?

BAM! I'M AN ANGLER FISH!



And the mildly adorable cartoon fish flee make like a banana and split before they get to see the wonder that is the freak's distending jaw and stomach.

Don't remember that part? Well, the fine folks at Pixar weren't exaggerating. At least not by much.



But here's the thing kids, I haven't even gotten to the freakiest thing about them.

Freakier than the fact that they look like something Tim Burton once had a nightmare about, or even that they have acquired the Vampiric skill of glamoring.

Freakier that all that are their Goddam mating habits.

Seriously, they make a female Praying Mantis look like June Cleaver.

The horror show that has been featured in the above pictures is only what the female Angeler Fish looks like. The male is like 1/10 of the female's size and exists solely to be a sperm-filled parasite.

Seriously.

Male Angler Fish are born basically useless, only equipped with a strong sense of smell. Their only purpose is to use their sense of smell to find the a female Angler Fish to latch onto. If they don't find one, they'll starve, because they don't have their own functioning gastrointestinal tract.

If they do find one, it's not any better.

Once he finds the female, who the poor jackass believes is going to save him, he bits down onto her side for dear life.

And then she proceeds to excrete an enzyme that melts its mouth off, and then actually completely envelopes the male, killing it and digesting it into herself. Yes, breaking down nearly all of it, brain, internal organs, the works.



The only part of the male the female actually uses is its testes so that she can impregnate herself with them whenever she wants to.

Way to go dude Angler Fish. You're pretty much an over-glorified Sperm bank.

Except, you know, when you donate to a sperm bank they pay you for your time. They don't immediately jump on you wearing bibs and toting a fork and knife.

Oh Cannibalism, such fun times. Except, you know, not at all.

And the female can do this a lot, basically, she can carry around her own handy dandy sperm bank, full of multiple male angler fish testes for whenever she wants one. Like they're trophies.

Gross.

Sure, the whole freaky Angler Fish scenario is a lot funnier when retold over at The Oatmeal, but even then its still ... guh.

It was long before my time, but I have heard in rumour and legend that 'Jaws' instilled a fear of the Ocean in a great number of those who saw it.

That on account of the film people refused to go into the water because, Jesus tap-dancing Christ, there might be some sharks in there.

I say:

Sharks? Ha!

I'll take sharks any day, just for the love of God and all that is holy, don't make me go anywhere near those damn Angler Fish.



Be sure to tune in next week for another edition of "The Creepiest Thing"!

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Candyman (1992) Or "What's the matter Trevor? Scared of something?"



'Candyman' was one of those movies that came out in the period of time in which I was too young to be allowed to view such cinema. I'm not going to date myself here by saying just how old I was when said film came out, but I was young. And I was a pretty damn sheltered kid.

So basically, 'Candyman' entirely passed me by. But it is a personal goal of your humble narrator to go back and reclaim the movies that came out whilst she was but a tiny confection, or before I even began baking, so to speak. Also, the 'Candyman' urban legend is one of those ones that every little kid was tortured by, at least in my childhood he was basically the male version of Bloody Mary (although Miss. Mary caused much more fear in this Pie than the man with the candy ever did).

But there is a trouble with movies in the vein of being recreations of Urban Legends, as a child these were things that scared the ever living crap out of you. The man with the hook for a hand was always waiting in some ally, Bloody Mary was in every friggin mirror, the Bogeyman was always either under the bed or in the closet, and let's not even get started on the babysitter with the killer upstairs business.
So here's the thing, how is a movie ever going to be able to even touch upon the complete and utter horror these things instilled in you as a child? It's impossible, that's just a fact. Learn to love it.

So basically, I was geared up to snort and poo-poo my way through 'Candyman', as I have through all film adaptations of Urban Legends that I have seen before (although, the 'Bloody Mary' episode of Supernatural was actually a pretty darn good try). I won't lie, I kind of wanted to hate this movie.

But Goddamit, I didn't. In fact, I found amazing merits buried in it. And you know, I could probably have dismissed this movie as rubbish all together if they hadn't had such an amazingly strong female lead to carry the entire movie on her shoulders.



Dears, Darlings, and fellow Spooky-Dos meet our Intrepid Heroine, Miss Helen Lyle.

She is smart as a whip, obnoxiously gorgeous, and will spend the whole movie having life and the world essentially crap all over her.

The movie opens with Helen interviewing a college girl who tell her a story that is "the scariest things she's ever heard, and it's totally true". It turns out to be a story about the aforementioned guy version of Bloody Mary crossed with the "Hook man" legend. Long story short, horny teenagers say Candyman's name five times in a mirror, he show ups and fillets the girl. And her roommate's friend's boyfriend totally knew the people it happened to.

Which is how we learn that Darling Helen, along with her awesome best friend Bernadette are graduate students working on a thesis about Urban Legends.



Helen's husband, Trevor, is an enormous Douche-bag who teaches at the university where Helen and Bernadette were interviewing college freshmen about what urban legends they'd come across. So, of course, he decides to make a lecture about Urban Legends to his class (which is who knows what, maybe Anthropology?) and ruin their study collection possibilities by wising the kids up to it all.

Helen is, justifiably, torqued. Trevor, the douche who is also rather obviously giving "extra credit", if you get my meaning, to one of his students, all but tells Helen that she is being a hysterical female and he is not going to let her silly little thesis interrupt his teaching schedule.

We're less than ten minutes into the movie and I'm hoping that Trevor gets terribly, terribly maimed.

But anyway, sweet hubbie's bastard tendencies force Helen to look further than college freshman for her study group. But she lucks out whilst typing up the interview she had with the freshman that opened the film, a woman cleaning the classroom she is in comments upon it. This leads Helen to interviewing said cleaning lady and her co-worker, which then leads her to a rendition of the legend that actually corresponds with a crime that happened in the Projects.



So Helen, in true Nancy Drew fashion heads out to the place the grisly murder took place, dragging reluctant voice of reason Bernadette along with her. In the projects the 'Candyman' legend is alive and kicking, so to speak, and everyone and their mother alternates between living in abject fear of him, and blaming him for all the normal hoo-ha.

Helen is an educated woman and is not to be bothered with superstition, so she insists to these people that their own personal Bogeyman is complete Horse Feathers. And as such COMPLETELY DAMNS HERSELF.

In true Freddy Kreuger fashion Candyman understands that the only way to exist is through other's faith in his legend. So in true "shun the non-believer" fashion he reveals himself to her, creepily, in a parking lot. Insisting that either she let him kill her or he will make her pay for the loss of faith she has caused within his congregation. Trouble is, I won't lie, Candyman looks pretty Badass whilst being a total creeper, and I wasn't exactly mad at the dulcet tones of his smooth baritone voice.



Which is when everything goes to Hell in a hand basket, so to speak. Candyman brutally murders people left and right and sets Helen up to take the fall, insisting that the slaughter will continue until she gives herself up. And we aren't just talking in a "give up and let me kill you, you difficult woman" way, it's all pretty down right sexual. Almost romantic, in a frightening sort of "Phantom of the Opera" way.

But Helen, God bless her, she is one tough cookie. Horrible, horrible things are happening all around her and she keeps on fighting. And looking perfect the whole times, yes, even when she is drenched in the blood of those that Candyman has slaughtered, and having a near hysterical meltdown, she still looks basically awesome.



But it is only when all the shit starts to hit the fan that the real reason I found myself enjoying this movie began to pick up. No, it's not just because this movie had a villain I could get behind, which is important to me and all, but not the big reason here. The allegory between Urban Legend, belief in something allowing existence becomes a subtle, and amazing theme.

Helen, herself, is not unlike Candyman. No, she doesn't go around gutting people with her festering hand with a hook jammed in it, granted, but she only exists as long as she is believed in, as much as he is.

She begins the movie, strong, vibrant, confident in her existence. But this is when she has the, supposedly, happy marriage, a wonderful best friend, and the respect of her peers. As this all falls apart, as there is suddenly a lack of people's belief in her Helen seems to be feeling herself disappear, much in the way Candyman described himself as doing when the legends were not to be spoken of him any longer.



Taking out the twisted romantic aspect of the Candyman's feelings toward Helen, he is offering her something that douche-bag Trevor, or anyone else really did. A chance to truly exist because she will always be remembered, believed in. Even if it is only for the crimes that Candyman has perpetuated and framed her for.

And yes, I have acknowledged that it is sick to think of 'Candyman' in the sense of being a romance. But there is a highly romantic aspect to it, more romantic than you can perceive between her and Trevor. Even before things began to go south we were more than reasonably sure that that her sorry excuse for a husband was having one of those "special" teacher relationships that involve lot's of staying after school for "extra credit assignments".

And once the going gets even remotely rough Trevor is more than willing to throw his hands up and be done with her, more than anything else because this is the perfect excuse for him to move in with his barely legal trollop. And when confronted with this, Trevor essentially counters with a "yeah, but you're a crazy person who killed people, even though you were never proved guilty, so I put all your stuff on the lawn with a 'free to a good home' sign on it."

Well, not in so many words, but you get the picture.

Candyman, in his own psycho way, is sort of the Byronic love interest for Darling Helen. He offers her eternity with him. They'll live forever so long as there are people who will speak in whispers about them, and he is happy to have that forever include her in the main focus of it.



I know it's wrong to think it, y'all. But it is a little bit sweet.

Sweet in a "I probably shouldn't have stopped seeing a therapist" kind of a way, but eh, I've seen the Phantom of the Opera a bazillion times and I still get upset every time Christine chooses that tool Raul over the Phantom. Sure the Phantom murdered truckloads of theater folk, but didn't he also write her the loveliest songs? I'm just saying.

But Helen proves that she is firmly the hero of this story, because she believes she can be strong. Once she shakes the shackles of her horrible marriage, and even avoids the seductive lure of the Candyman, she truly comes full circle and is truly in her own by the end of the film.

Which is why I can't be mad at this film.

I don't consider myself a feminist, but the strong female character that was Helen is arguably one of the strongest women in Horror cinema. Yes, I know everyone always looks first and foremost to Sigourney Weaver's character Ripley. But I argue that the self-rescuing Helen should be considered at least as highly. After all Helen fends off an evil that cannot be jettisoned out an air lock, because it exists in the very fibers of the mind.

And she never has to walk around in her panties to do it either.

Go Helen. You rock, Rock.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Torn, torn like an old sweater

I'm sure at this point most, if not all, of you are aware that the absolutely amazing 2008 Swedish Vampire movie Let the Right one in has been re-made into an American version, less cleverly titled "Let me in", that is coming out later this year.



You and I haven't known each other very long, so I'll let you in on a little secret that you might not know about me.

Remakes, in general, make me kind of angry.

And when it's a remake of a foreign horror film, well, that has a tendency to make me homicidal. Especially, taking into account, America's track record with remaking foreign horror films into absolute monstrosities.

Do you remember the abomination that was the 2005 American remake of Dark Water? Because I sure as Hell do.

So then why, you might ask, should I be even remotely black and white on this remake? Shouldn't I already be completely up in arms over it? I mean, 'Let the Right one in' is, hands down, one of the most AMAZING horror films of the last decade. What is there to be torn about?

This, you guys, this.



Chloe Moretz.

I am, in general, not the biggest fan of children. but this kid managed to wiggle her way under my anti-kinder skin some time ago, and has since firmly rooted herself near my cold, black heart.

(those of you currently going, 'What the Hell Spooky? I have no idea who that is!', did you see Kick Ass? Then you DO know who that is, she played Hit Girl, now stop your whining)

So what does this mean you guys?

It means that, as much as I am going to hate myself and feel dirty for doing it, this particular Creepy Confection is going to be dragging her sugary ass to see this particular remake.

Am I proud of it?

No.

Will I still be doing it despite the fact that it looks like they've sucked all the life/joy/amazingness out of the original?

Yes.

I apologize in advance everyone. I already feel used.



This is all your fault kid, I wish I knew how to quit you.

Friday, July 2, 2010

The Creepiest Thing: 2nd edition



This week The Creepiest Thing is …

Cabbage Patch Kids

“Snacktime” dolls



Anyone who was a child in the nineties, or above the age of two probably remembers these freaky little bastards.

If you don’t, chances are you forcibly blocked the memory out, as many of us are like to do with overly traumatic events. And if this is the case, I quite honestly can’t say that I blame you.

Dolls are, to begin with, already one of the most heinously freaky things on the planet. Since I was just a wee bit I’ve gotten the willies from dolls. Cabbage Patch Kid dolls are no exception, actually, they’re probably worse. I’m not sure if it’s their vacant, soulless eyes, their arms that are constantly outstretched as if to strangle you, or the fact that my aunt used to collect these horrible things and I had to, on multiple occasions, sleep in a room filled with them.

Whatever it is, they aren’t right.

Like really not right.

As if these satanic lumps of plastic weren’t already full of malice and God only knows what else, in the Fall of 1996 the brain trusts over at Mattel decided they needed to be even more evil. And so along came the Snacktime doll.



Apparently the idea of enabling a doll to chew was, for some reason, a good idea. And the greedy assholes over at Mattel responsible for this weren’t the only ones who thought so. Nay-nay dear Spooky-dos. Children all over the country saw these commercials and proceeded to browbeat their parents into buying them these Chucky”Snacktime” dolls for Christmas.

They were, in fact, the #5 best selling toy in the Christmas of 1996. Not in the Spooky Pie household, mind, this girl wanted an Easy Bake Oven.

So Christmas ’96 over 700,000 shrieking (with glee … for now) children opened up their Snacktime dolls. And for a short while, things were good. They catered to the bizarre need for kids to have dolls with bodily functions (I seem to remember there being a doll that also made bodily waste, how adorable.). Snacktime kids came with plastic stick shaped foods that were supposed to be carrot sticks and what have you, when said plastic foods were inserted into the dolls mouth it would “munch” on them and pull it into itself, to come out in its backpack.

That was all well and good.

But then, dear readers, things went TERRIBLY wrong.

THE DOLLS DEVELOPED A TASTE FOR HUMAN FLESH



I wish I was over exaggerating, which I guess, to a small extent I am, but not by much.

About a month after their release Mattel issued a massive recall of the dolls. Why?

Because 35 different isolated incidents were reported of children being MAULED by their Snacktime doll. Yeah, no kidding, and you thought Child’s play was just a movie. The doll’s chewing mechanism had no off switch, so once it started to devour something the only way to stop it was to practically destroy it. And the hair and fingers of little children seemed to be the Snacktime dolls preferred “snack time” food.



Multiple parents found themselves having to fend the attacking dolls off of their children. Since the mechanism didn’t have that pesky on/off switch, multiple children had chunks of their hair literally ripped for their heads as their parents tried to save them in true blue B-grade horror fashion.

One poor distraught mother found her child’s finger locked in the death grip of one dolls’ mouth, she tore the backpack of the doll off, she tried to beat it down, she couldn’t get the doll off of her kid. It wasn’t until a FRICKING POLICE OFFICER came down and “had to slash the doll's face open and then remove 15 screws" did they get the kid free.

Sweet Jesus, traumatic much?

But here’s the thing Dears and Darlings. The packaging on these terrible things was emblazoned with the a label reading “Feed me”, why in the name of God’s Ass did this set off no warning bells for anyone?

Forget the fact that none of these parents, obviously, must not have seen any of the ‘Child’s Play’ movies or even the ‘Talking Tina’ episode of The Twilight Zone. Had none of them seen, or at least heard of, Little Shop of Horrors?
If something that should not be able speak asks you to feed it

DON’T DO IT.



Unless, of course, you like the idea of spending your days feeding dentists and salesmen to the giant Venus Flytrap you named after your girlfriend.

Or, you know, something like that.



Be sure to tune in next week for another edition of "The Creepiest Thing"!

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Phantasm (1979)



Well Y'all, last night your good friend Spooky Pie sat herself down to enjoy some good old fashioned horror cinema. I decided on 'Phantasm'

A) Because it is streaming on Netflix
&
B) Because it was not only listed in Bravo's "Top 100 Scariest Movie moments", but the trailer also boasts "If this one doesn't scare you THEN YOU'RE ALREADY DEAD!!!"

Now I ask you, dears and darlings, how on earth could I resist all that? I couldn't, I'm not that strong willed. So on went 'Phantasm'.

Oh my God you guys, Oh my God. This shit is amazing like you don't even know. In my last review I expressed my desire to see a horror movie that I actually liked and boy did this live up to that. Even if it was all for the wrong reasons.

Phantasm has an interesting enough premise, a man named Jody is raising his 13 year old brother Mike after their parents died in a car accident. Quite frankly, they probably had it coming, because anyone who would name their son Jody is just plain cruel. But anyway, ANYWAY. We begin the film with a funeral, Jody's friend Tommy, who died in the movie's opening.

Why did he die? BECAUSE HE WAS HAVING SEX IN A GRAVEYARD! Everybody knows that you don't have sex in a graveyard, that lines you up to be the first one to fall in a horror movie. So yeah, I don't have any pity for you Tommy. That's neither here nor there, sorry you guys, I get a little caught up in the moment. Jody doesn't bring Mike to the funeral because after their parents' funeral "he didn't sleep for a week".

Unbeknown to Jody, Mike followed him on a motorcycle, why someone would let a 13 year old on a motorcycle, I don't know. I also can't say why no one noticed the kid haphazardly riding said motorcycle through the cemetery. Kids these days. Forgetting Mike and his disrespectful motorcycle riding habits, we go back to Jody wandering through the funeral home. And this is when we meet one of the most AMAZING characters in cinematic history, The Tall Man!



The Tall Man will be our villain for the night kids, so let's get good and used to him. He introduces himself by sneaking up behind Jody and bellowing "THE FUNERAL IS ABOUT TO BEGIN! ... SIR!!!", and quite likely making Jody need a new pair of pants.

Comedy gold.

During said funeral we are introduced to what will be one of the other key factors in the movie. Mike is unhealthily obsessed with his brother who has a girl's name. Not only has he followed Jody, but he then proceeds to hide in a shrub and watch his brother with binoculars. He stays in a bush creepily watching his brother, and then a bit longer, which is when he sees The Tall Man lift the coffin in to the hearse all by himself with no trouble at all. He's a spry old goat, The Tall Man. And this of course, because Mike is a 13 year old boy, and this is what they do, gets Mike completely obsessed with The Tall Man and the prospect that trouble's abrewin' up at the old Morningside Mortuary.

When Mike tells this to Jody, Jody is really way more upset that his brother has been stalking him, again. And reasonably so, this is also when we learn that Jody has been planning on leaving Mike with their aunt and moving far, far away from his little brother who seems to view him in a downright inappropriate fashion. Because we find out that Mike really does stalk Jody EVERYWHERE.

He follows Jody to a bar and watches him pick up a blond hussy (same hussy we saw in the beginning having the forbidden graveyard sex), and he follows them back to the graveyard (because apparently this is the only place the woman likes to get it on) and is perfectly happy to lie in a bush and watch this too. This was about the point that I thought that Mike was probably the creepiest part of the movie. But Mike at least pays for this act of perversion by being chased out of his hiding spot by a Jawa.

And poor, poor Jody-who-has-a-girl's-name. Because nothing spoils the mood quite like having your younger brother barrel past you at full tilt howling like a banshee. If you're not our fair lady Jody, however, it's completely hilarious.

This is pretty much the final straw for Jody, when he catches up to his sprinting pervert brother he basically balls him out. And can you blame him? I know I can't. He's pretty sure that Mike is just going on about this Tall Man B.S. to cover up the fact that he has a very "flowers in the attic" fixation going on.

Of course, this makes Mike feel the need to prove that he is not completely full of crap to his brother, so he wants to get cold hard evidence. This evidence, long story short, comes in the form of one of the The Tall Man's lopped off fingers which apparently bleeds mustard. Go figure.

But this is enough to get Jody on team "The Tall Man is out to get us".



The rest of the movie generally involves the brothers, along with Jody's completely inept balding friend Reggie, setting out to investigate and stop whatever happenings are going down up at the old Mortuary. Mike gets chased around by The Tall Man, a lot, which is sad, because you would think that a 13 year old kid could outrun a man who is clearly at least 100. It's like not being able to outrun a (Classic) Romero zombie, really, you should be ashamed of yourself. And there are more cloaked Jawa/midget minions that wreck havoc on the trio.

Unfortunately, the ending of the film fell a bit flat for me. It was like the ending of Dallas had a baby with the ending of A Nightmare on Elm Street, and the child came out a bit ... touched. Ending aside, this film had some AMAZING merits to it. Before I get into the (wrong)reasons I adored it, I'm going to point out some of the things that made it a good, proper horror movie.

From the get-go it adheres to a sort of canon set up by horror films before it, that doing a set of really stupid things will get you into trouble, or dead.
1. Don't have sex in a graveyard (well, don't have sex in a horror movie, really)
2. Don't go into the creepy old house alone, at night
3. If you think it's dead, don't go back and nudge it. It's not going to be dead. Always follow Rule #2 of Zombieland, double tap.
People violate these things left and right within Phantasm, and they are punished accordingly, though some more harshly then others.

Also, atmospherically, this movie is fairly awe inspiring. There is really clever use of lighting, some intense Krueger-esque nightmare sequences, and the soundtrack is lovely. It's the same sort of amazing, subtle score that is akin to the one in 'Suspiria'.



Furthermore, it is a pretty fresh take on a horror movie, despite the cliche aspects. And considering how many themes in the horror genre get done to death, that is saying something.

But here's the deal kids. None of those intellectual reasons are responsible for my love of this movie.

In short, it is a completely underrated Comedy Masterpiece. Yes, yes, I know, it's not supposed to be funny. I am aware that many people have sited sequences in the film, most notably the nightmares, as being some of the most terrifying ever. But you guys, you guys, The Tall Man.

I want to write sonnets and love songs about the hysterical tour de force that is Angus Scrimm's Tall Man. Obviously, he is supposed to be "larger than life" and a caricature, and this is supposed to be part of the appeal of why he is "terrifying". But in over exaggerating the man they made him into the best cartoon character in ages. So many scenes that were meant to be dramatic were just .... well... funny.

Take, for instance, the (apparently) iconic scene in which Mike is bumbling around Downtown in broad daylight, and is horrified to see The Tall Man strolling down the street across from him. I'm more than a little sure that I was supposed to be relating to Mike's look of "Oh no! He's out here in front of God and everyone! He's so scary". Yeah, not so much. I laughed so hard I was in tears.

The way The Thin Man galumphs down the street like a hybrid of Jack Skellington and Mr. Burns on acid, and then pauses in the mists of the ice cream truck to have his "herbal essence" commercial before slapping away is perhaps one of the most hysterical things I have seen in ages.



You cannot, in all honesty, tell me that isn't hilarious. I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't rewind that scene and watch it like five times.


Oh Angus Scrimm, shine on you crazy diamond.

Phantasm, despite its pitfalls and message that "Old people are out to kill you, and all children are a liability", is definitely worth the watch. Worth more than watch, I would say. I, in fact, now feel the need to own this masterpiece. If for no other reason than so that then next time I have a really shit day I can pop this gem into the DVD player and laugh until I sob.

Friday, June 25, 2010

The Creepiest Thing: 1st edition


So I have decided that on this blog I am going to do a weekly feature called "The Creepiest thing". I will try to have a new edition up every Friday, and it will be just whatever random thing that creeps me out I feel like ranting about. So brace yourself for the first ever TCT!

This week The Creepiest Thing is:

Disneyland's "Dark Rides"


For those of you not clued into "amusement park lingo", a dark ride is:

"an indoor amusement ride where riders in guided vehicles travel through specially lit scenes that typically contain animation, sound, music, and special effects."
Quoth Wikipedia.

I am native California girl, I grew up in Southern California. Like a good many other middle class, southern California based families, mine had annual passes to Disneyland for the majority of my childhood.

This, of course, meant many many many trips to Disneyland. And when your humble narrator, Spooky Pie, was but a Spooky Cupcake, I had a nearly masochistic relationship with said dark rides. They were fun and exciting to a child, most things that have happy music, bright colors, and things that move are. But as much I loved to go on the rides, they also pretty much scared the crap out of me.

Specifically the ride called "Snow White's scary adventure".

If you aren't from California, or have never been to Disneyland, or, whatever, here's a ride through someone on Ye Olde Tube of the Yew taped for your benefit. Yes, just yours, no one else's.



As a little girl I loved the opening with the woodland animals and the dwarfs celebrating, but when it degenerated into the haunted forest I was gripping onto the cart with white knuckles and trying hard not to scream, cry, pass out, or do all three. And that's the sort of thing that sticks with you. Even returning to Disneyland in my adult life, I still freely admit that I get heart palpitations riding that thing, because you just can't let go all together of something that scared you that badly as a child.

Also, like most children, I had a horrifically over-active imagination. And the moving audio-animatronics in the dark rides were just the kind of fuel I needed to get all worked into a tizzy. Young me was 100% positive that not only were those things alive, but that they were might want to come down from their displays and get me.



And let's face it, it isn't like the stories in these rides were all together pleasant. Hell, most of the Disney movie I've re-watched as adult have made me go
"wow... this is really messed up... I can't believe I watched this as a kid.

Oh Disney, way to go around traumatizing children.

Unfortunately, for me anyway, my latent phobia of these rides was made worse a few years back. My arch nemesis/love "Snow White's scary adventures" broke down. And I don't mean in the way that rides occasionally break down and a pleasant voice comes on over the music telling you that "The ride is experiencing technical difficulties and we will have you back on track momentarily".

No, no, it REALLY broke down. The had to turn the lights on and have everyone get out of their carts and walk through the ride to get to the exit. You don't fully realize just how nightmarish those rides really are until you see them "behind the scenes". They might be scary in the dark, but this is one case in which it is actually scarier in the light.

That traumatic experience coupled with my childhood issues with audio-animatronics made me start to really, really fear having the ride break down whilst I was still in it. Yes, I've been on the rides when they went down, The Haunted Mansion has "technical difficulties" all the times, and I have gotten stuck sitting in one section of it for a reeeeeeally long time. Long time in the sense that not only did I learn ALL the words to the Haunted Mansion graveyard song, but I thought I might weep openly if I ever had to hear it again.
(In case you might be wondering, I got over it really fast, and every time I go to Disneyland I still end up riding the Haunted Mansion at least twice in a day)

You see, it wasn't so much the stopping that bothered. Sitting in a faux graveyard full of unrealistic ghouls was not something that phased me at all (repetitive ghost song aside). It was the idea of being stuck next to one of those creepy doll/robot/things that made my blood go cold. If you're moving past them it's all well and good, it's when you are potentially trapped in with those nightmarish looking things that the phobia part starts to kick in.

Case in point, your humble narrator once in the not too distant past was on "Alice's adventures in Wonderland" when it broke down. My little pink caterpillar buggy, of course stopped right in front of the Mad Tea Party scene.



That was the point, gentle readers, in which yours truly (in true 'Fear and loathing in Las Vegas'/Hunter S. Thompson style) yelled:

"WE CAN'T STOP HERE!!!!!"


And then, of course, I proceeded to attempt to vault over the safety railing of my bug vehicle to run for glory. However, as I was starting to wiggle my way out the ride started back up. It was really for the best, I doubt the Disneyland employees would have looked fondly on my running out of the ride on foot, screaming like a madman.

Of course, for the rest of the day (and basically the whole time up to the present since the horrible 'mad tea party incident) my friends who were on the ride with me took great pleasure in making fun of me for my barely avoided hysterical melt down. There were/still are numerous "We can't stop here? Why? Is it bat country?" comments directed at me.

I stick to my guns though y'all. In the same situation all over again, I probably would have acted the same. Throw any horror movie you like at me, I'll be fine, they don't scare me. Those are things happening on a screen nowhere near me. Just don't make me sit next to one of those audio-animatronic nightmares.

And before you judge me on this one guy, think about how much you would like being stuck next to one of these horror-shows.



Be sure to tune in next week for another edition of "The Creepiest Thing"!

All images in this entry from Daveland Web

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

The House of the Devil (2009)



My Goodness, what can I say about House of the Devil? I wanted to like it, I wanted SO BADLY to like it.

I loved the idea of a movie made in 2009, but in the style of the great wave of the more classic horror movies of the late seventies and eighties. The premise was a little cliche, but I figured, oh what the Hell, I'm game. And I largely wondered how on earth this movie had come out last year without me having heard of it.

Gentle Readers and Fellow Spooky-dos, I don't wonder about this any more. I don't want to say that there is nothing good about the movie, because that would simply not be true, however, this is a case in which the bad greatly outweighs the good and results in Epic Fail.

The basic premise of the movie is simple, one that is easy to relate to, even. Broke college student Samantha can barely make ends meet, so she picks up a baby sitting gig to try and generate a little cash flow. All right, understandable, lot's of people can get behind the broke college student thing, a lot of us have been there.

And in trying to make a seventies/eighties style horror film, the baby sitter angle is appropriate. Let's face it, some of the most iconic horror movies of that era were baby sitter movies; Halloween, When a Stranger calls, and Trick or Treats, just to name a few.

It's a good angle for horror, any girl who babysat as a teenager can tell you that it can be ridiculously creepy. Sure it's all fun and games while you're entertaining the kiddies, but send them to bed and as soon as you're alone with the TV you start getting paranoid. Every little noise is something in the house with you, every noise outside is something coming from you. Like I said before, fear you can relate to.

Further drawing on established horror angles, HOTD is set in a suitably creepy, enormous house. In the outskirts of Nowheresville, where no one can hear you scream.



However, once our heroine is at said house she is informed by an unnerving old man that she was hired to watch not a child, but his wife's elderly mother. This is when Samantha's friend tells her;

"the agreement was we would leave if the people were weird, this isn't weird, it's mental".
This seems to be setting up the movie to be good and chilly, I mean, come one, what's creepier than weird old people? And if you just said "Nothing", than seriously, you need to sit down and have movie night with Drag me to Hell, Rosemary's Baby, the original Friday the 13th, and Whatever happened to Baby Jane?. Then you and me can talk about how not at all scary old people are.

The trouble is that it all takes a sharp turn downhill from there on out. All of the action of the film is presented in the last 15 minutes, in a hurried slap-dashed frenzy. And before that it's over an hour of "Hey what was that noise?" and "Let's look like we're foreshadowing that something really creepy is about to happen, and then not actually do anything." While that's all going on they proceed to have Samantha do REALLY foolish things, like run around the house blaring music on her headphones. Any paranoid babysitter will tell you, you DO NOT want to wear headphones. Headphones block out the footsteps of the person coming to kill you.

But as I said before, the movie is not without merits. Some of the camera work is downright genius. It intentionally filmed to be grainy and slightly yellowed, so you really feel like you're watching something that has a few decades on it. And a fair number of the shots are filmed in strange, almost clandestine frames. There aren't any first person type shots, most shots of Samantha are filmed in such a way as to make the viewer feel almost voyeuristic. It's like you are put in the perspective of the murderers, stalking the girl through the house.



And Samantha is a very sympathetic character. She's real, she makes real person decisions, she isn't perfect (she is in fact quite the little germaphobe, earning her brownie points with yours truly, who is a bit of one as well.)

Samantha is clever, she doesn't got through the movie shrieking or begging to be saved, she does her best to save herself. And I respect that. I only wish that this respectable of a character was not inside such a mess of a film.

Once the film ended I basically said "... okay."

There is an attempt at a Brian DePalma-esque gotcha ending, but it falls flat, much like the "horror" in the movie once its actually revealed.

I don't know you guys, I just don't know. I hope the next movie I write about here is one that I really like.



wow, look at that, turns out I actually qualify for The Final Girl Film Club with this humble review and I didn't even realize it oooooooh!!!