We’re two weeks to the night from the Hudson Horror Show. I’m slowly immersing myself in the marathon culture of 35mm films brought to you by various groups. I’ve written a little bit about my experienced at the Exhumed 24 Hour Marathons and while this one is a little shorter I think it’s well worth the drive to Poughkeepsie, NY to see some great folks teaming up to put on a great marathon. I love a good road trip and these movies, these fans, this experience will clearly be worth it from what the good social network du jour is saying.
Before we get into the movies let’s autopsy the Hudson Horror Show. Its put on as a collaboration between Hudson Horror Show, Grindhouse Releasing, Cinema Overdrive, Aquarius Releasing and Vagrancy Films. Grindhouse Releasing has put out a few gems you may be aware of ala Cannibal Holocaust, Pieces and the Beyond (that’s the short short short list folks). Cinema Overdrive shows true grindhouse genre classics to fans once a month or so. Recent showings were Assault on Precinct 13 and Thou Shalt Not Kill… Except and will be showing Ms. 45 and Phantom of Paradise in July (few more in between HHS and then, but those two stood out). Aquarius Releasing distributes quite a few well known titles as well. Filmography according to IMDB includes Faces of Death, Silent Night Deadly Night, Cannibal Ferox and Sex and the French School Girl (That’s a Christmas present idea for the good Doctor). Vagrancy Releasing promotes 35mm showings and, of course, Shock Stock in Canada. I’ll be throwing you some links to their respective websites so you have masturbation material for after you finish not reading this blog.
So this will be the third one. Let’s run through the past entries into the Hudson Horror Show:
HUDSON HORROR SHOW PART 1
HUDSON HORROR SHOW PART 2
Do you see those names? Do you see the cool shit their doing for fans by doing a short contest? Twenty six dollars for a ticket to see your classics in 35mm, in a theatre with smelly borderline obese men (speculative). This is better than the second hand titty bar down the street where you can spend thirty bucks to… strike that. We do not discuss the donkey show anymore. Legalities.
I’ve never been to this great and grand event, but I can assure you that these guys put out a poster like this out of love. Come one, come all. I’ll be on my way up from Jersey early Saturday morning. I’ll be snorting popcorn off my dash and mainlining Rockstar Energy drinks the whole time.
For more info go here (and you better fucking do it or the Cenobites will come out of the walls or something).
Also, as a primer for the event, here’s what I expect from each of the films being shown. Call this a little preshow run down or whatever makes you feel good and helps me to justify writing.
Doctor Butcher MD aka Zombie Holocaust: I predict zombies… no wait… cannibals. Must be cannibals. No wait… zombies again. Maybe zombies this time? Haven’t actually seen this one… the only one on the roster, but it’s infamous for this “communication error”.
Alligator: People will cheer a lot. When they cheer I will also be cheering. I will also be crying when those nasty boys throw that smaller into the pool and said boy gets eaten by the alligator. I will also cry when that fuckhead doctor rationalizes animal testing. Immediately following that I will eat MEAT!
Cannibal Holocaust: I will eat MEAT! Turtle meat. It’s festive right? The soundtrack alone will be the audience to its feet. Vomit bags ready? Vomitting in unison is encouraged as it minimizes that auditory impact on the picture.
The Bird with the Crystal Plumage: I predict black gloves and a shiny knife. That is all. Oh and fancy music. Fancy like a sailor.
Return of the Living Dead: It’s party time! Linnea Quigley will be naked (truly from the waist up but we have imaginations or so the Muppet Babies told me so). I may or may not have a bucket of popcorn on my lap. Wanna share? Then… meat! No wait… no meat. BRAINS! (but kindly remember the Misfits would prefer Guts… thank you).
Can wait to see you there or… CENOBITES! You have been warned.
I was like a kid at Christmas the night before Chiller Theatre. Couldn’t sleep for the life of me and had images of Sugar Plum Demons dancing in my head, under my bed and in the closet. In the morning, the routine of the day was met with a spring in my step and an extra cup of coffee to keep my spirits up. Santa Claus had not in fact come, but horror convention day had. My first horror convention at that since I missed Monstermania so heinously.
Chiller Theatre in Parsippany, New Jersey. I have seen the advertisements year after year for this event and yet missed it every single one. I even drove past it while it was coming from a vacation years ago but was too exhausted to make the trek in after the long drive. I notoriously missed each and every one for one reason, good or bad. Usually I couldn’t figure out when the damn thing was. I didn’t even know that there were two of them to choose from (and I call myself a horror fan). I would love to be the consultant for their website. They’ve truly done some amazing things over the years but it has some holes that need to be filled (don’t we all… strike that… reverse it).
My future brother in law, his brother and a couple of new, good friends got my ass in gear today. I finally made it to my first horror convention. How convent was it? Well, there was definitely a conversation or two about nunsploitation if that’s what you mean. If not, it was awe inspiring, intimidating and overall a great experience. I feel better having gone and popped by proverbial cherry. I wasn’t this timid about going to Rocky Horror Picture Show and licking whip cream and a cherry off my buddies nipples. The line is a mile long. Get there early and enjoy the company of your fellow fan boys and girls. Saves you a trip to the zoo and you see just as much wildlife.
Something about famous people gives me the willies. I never know what to say to them. I always feel like I’m supposed to give them a bunch of praise, but I feel like they couldn’t care less or that I would seem ridiculous in my “we’re not worthy” Wayne and Garth moment. I don’t know how to approach celebrities. I work very well on the keys (that would be the keyboard), but face to face I clam up like an 80’s VHS tape. I’d say I broke that trend tonight when I went up to Lamberto Bava, shook his hand after removing a box of signables left there by one of my cohorts in crime and said, “Hi”. He was as timid as I was, but I think he could smell my fear. Same thing happened with Claudio Simonetti. I must truly come off as such a goon. “Hi, I’m a huge fan, but I don’t want your autograph because I don’t believe in paying for a signature”. Also, “My mind went blank, didn’t you score Neverending Story 2?” Things like this go through my mind after I left each table. It’s not like I was asking these horror icons out on a date right? Let’s get beyond my neurosis, but if you meet me at a horror convention in the future (and I assure you, you will) I may come off like one of the characters from the “Land of Confusion” video by Genesis.
I went on a Friday. The tame day. I’m ok with popping my cherry on the tame day before the place is a mound of protein and blood trying to fan worship their beloved icons to death. I’m ok to get first dibs on the “good shit” at the vendor tables (even if I barely bought anything). I’m ok to catch the guests fresh as fish because I have oodles to say to them (neurosis GROWING). So here’s the really real of what I on the tame day.
The Hilton in Parsippany is a strange venue for horror. Its modern circa 1990’s innards clash strongly with its kind of old-ish Germany/European, “I want to be a castle when I grow up” on the outside mystique. It holds a lot of peopleBad versions of pizza can be smelled in every room and it is not pleasant. Bathrooms are clean (on the first day). The place is like a labyrinth and I don’t believe that’s intentional. It truly lacks atmosphere. I think I expected more of a haunted attraction/house than a convention. It was probably better that it was convention and not a haunted house… fewer jump scares per square foot. The atmosphere is fan made via costumes and some really great T-shirts. People watching is a must at one of these events just don’t get caught reading someone’s T-shirt over and over again only to discover that you’ve been staring at some girls tits for a half and hour and her gigantor boyfriend is hungry for geek meat. Didn’t happen… maybe almost happened. I assure you there were plenty of boobies floating around to stare at. I really wanted to get a better look at the damn shirt.
The guests look scared but are nice (mostly). I did not get any autographs as has been previously stated. I do not ask for them. I do not pay for them. When I was a kid at Disney World, I have vague recollections of having an autograph book forced into my hand which would then in turn be forced into the hands of people in suits pretending to be my beloved movie characters. I did not like this. I do not collect signatures. Maybe someday when I’m looking to break my social phobia this will be therapeutic for me, signature getting that is. Incidentally I was a US Census worker for a short time and a Clean Water Action employee and had no trouble getting signatures. Curiouser and curiouser. Met Lamberto Bava and Claudio Simonetti and stood close by John Zacherley. The rest I just stared at. I was intrigued by being that close to them but couldn’t broach the “talk” barrier. It was still worth it. These people are real and not Madame Toussot wax figures that animate when they yell “action”. Good to know.
I was able to say a few words to some of the artists who are the most approachable and well spoken of the whole rabble. Met Stephen Blickenstaff and shook the hand of the man who gave us the cover of Bad Music for Bad People. I wore that damn yellow t-shirt until it had holes in the nipples…. This was a good meet up. Don’t ask how I got holes in the nipples. Do go purchase his work. I still just might when I get the dough to buy that damn demonic, red eyed beastie that wants to eat my face. Also liked the work of Ken Kelly, Roger Kastel and Ted A. Bohus. It was a great thing to see the bodies of work these guys had especially original sketches, actual prints and on merch/mags. Very positive experience.
Saw one of the members of Dio. First thought was talk to them about their non profit organization etc etc. Then I remembered that I’m not social (I’m really am social just not in this context). Arn Anderson made me feel like he was going to rip my arms off if I didn’t buy something for him to sign. This confused me. I ran and ran and ran… all the way to the vintage theatre posters. I mean I watched this guy wrestle as a kid and rooted against him. It was as if he kneeewww. Suzanne Snyder has aged really well and seemed nice from three feet awa y since I had star crush on her when I was in my youth (which is ongoing by the way). I did not go anywhere near the Willy Wonka reunion. “It’s just too creepy,” to quote Beetlejuice. Eddie Munster isn’t a kid anymore ladies. Wink wink nudge nudge. We also avoided what we have come to call “The Gary Busey Room”. Busey and Nivek Ogre… one room. Something must be getting slaughtered in there and then eaten, worn or thrown at a dart board. Saw Ernest Borgnine and thought to myself, “we are about to lose Airwolf”.
By far the most fascinating meeting of the day was with the head honcho at Mad Monster. I am proud to have shaken his hand. I love what that magazine is all about and can’t wait for issue 2 (cover is on Facebook now). He’s a true fan, honest and I think he’s found an unexplored niche in the horror mag world. Refreshingly visual, thought provoking beyond even my previous conceptions of the mag. This thing comes out by Zodiac sign not month. The colors in the borders and themes are based on the Zodiac sign of the issue. This is the stuff of genius. More layers to appreciate here than any onion you’d want to eat and if you haven’t purchased this magazine yet, go get ‘em tiger. I should have asked him to sign my copy. I am a dunce… oh and I don’t do autographs which is to say I forgot.
I don’t know which days some of the guests were going to be there. Friday is my one chance at con-dom, so if I didn’t see a few of them it was probably better that way since I wouldn’t have said anything and would have been what I would have classified as a “lurker”. I wish I saw P.J. Soles. Twittering birds. Crush… crush crush. Alex Winter too (no crush… just owe him the debt of three years of my life due to his Bill S. Preston Esquire character). Maybe would have liked to talk to Chainsaw Sally (saw her but I couldn’t even face her general direction much less open my mouth to form words). Can anyone tell me if Tony Clifton really was there? Just curious. Oh and everyone was in Dr. Chud’s room… this is Jersey guys… we can see the Misfits all the time. They eat drink and piss with us. You can probably meet and greet them at McDonald’s in Lodi. I’m glad to see these guys have such a loyal following. They do good things for horror music even if Glen Danzig since I was born.
Vendors like to sell pirated DVD’s (not all of them). I do not like the concept of people “selling” pirated copies for twenty bucks a pop. Five is perfectly acceptable. Ten bucks would be fine. This twenty dollar shit has got to go. Half of them are pirated off line rather than burned from actual copies of DVD’s anyway. What trash. Exception to this rule is DiabolikDVD who is wonderful and who’s selection was inspired. Thoroughly enjoyed the meeting at their booth and still regret not buying anything (even a Blu Ray for a player I do not have… they had real life Arrow DVD’s).
Saw my first Human Centipede Barbie in person. It was a vision. I was going to ask how much it was but got anti-social again. Boo. Also didn’t want to spend money on something I couldn’t display or show around the house. I had a budget and didn’t blow it. I would call it sensory overload. Here’s how that worked. I would go to a table, start rifling through the Famous Monsters magazines or CD’s or Horror Film History books or Comic Books or whatever and suddenly I would realize that there were thousands of “artifacts” to be had here. It was like I was Scrooge Mc-Fucking-Duck in his money vault swimming in coin. Problem was that I couldn’t decided on anything so I’d move on. I could have sat at the Fangoria back issue counter for the entire convention if not pulled back. It was like seeing boobs for the first time. Something like that I suppose.
Speaking of boobs… didn’t see any… well no live ones anyway.
Overall I had a great time good friends and family and got a modest education in some very obscure shit. I think the “must see” pile on the movie list doubled. Best conversation of the day, talking to David Z. about being a father and horror fanatic and how to balance the whole thing. It’s a work in progress to be certain. Also, loved watching the kids get their gigantic theatre poster of Demons from Italy signed by the Italian Invasion folks. They seemed pretty impressed with its size. I was pretty impressed with its size. This is not Freudian. Also got a copy of an anthology of zombie comics featuring David Z’s collaboration called “Blind Dead”. I’ll be talking about that one in a future cast for certain. He even signed it (so I did get an autograph mother fuckers!) Also got Ultra Violent magazine. Excited to read that one. I had to bat my own hand away a couple times from purchasing other new magazines. There are so many great looking covers. Wow.
So all in all I had an experience that didn’t scare me away from conventions, gave me some ideas for how to do the whole thing better next time and ideas for what I might say to some of these great people. Listening to my friends talking to Lamberto Bava was special. A real connection between fan and artist. I think I had some much to say to Simonetti that my heart would have jumped straight out my chest and would have hid in his travel bag. Also, to be in the presence of John Zacherley is a privilege that few would understand. My father has always lauded him as the great horror host of old, the one he grew up with, the local hero… I felt that tonight. Got teary eyed. Also got intimidated etc etc. Bless his heart.
-Dr. Terror needs business cards and that Geoffrey Rush character from the King’s Speech… STAT!
Do you know what it‘s like to be in Bobby Rhodes’s presence? It’s like staring at a man who’s gonna fuck up some demons in a theatre only to turn into a demon himself… I almost thought he would have if no one was looking. Oh, and he’s a gentleman and despite what you may have heard in the movies… he’s also Italian which surprised me because the dub job in Demons is so bad I should have guessed it instantly. The Pimp Lives!
“You'll Come Home for the Holidays... In A Body Bag”
My favorite horror film of all time… is GRINDHOUSE. If you have any questions, please address them to the tattoo on my left arm that is a re-imaging of the famous double feature movie poster complete with “GRINDHOUSE” marquee. Only my tattoo artist knows for sure. GRINDHOUSE (and we will be henceforth referring to it in all caps for both effect and accuracy) embodies everything that makes horror the genre we frickin’ love. It’s pretty darn funny. It’s pretty damn bloody. It has a cheesy plot that somehow you allow your “suspension of disbelief detector” to overlook. Some cult stars. Some big names. Lots of hype. A great poster (thanks Edward D. Wood, Jr.). Soundtracks that rock! And… two movies for the price of one. Also, lots of fake trailers, gimmicks and novelties. It’s why you read Famous Monsters of Filmland. It’s why you’ll start reading Mad Monster. Let’s get down to it because I’m sure I’ve lost half my audience if one ever existed at all.
Cult Stars and Big Names:
Most of these come up in the faux trailers but with both movies included together with the intermission and all created by notable directors Rob Zombie, Eli Roth, Edgar Write Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez you have a comprehensive list of who’s who in B, cult, “grindhouse”, shock, exploitation, horror, Italian, action cinema. Cult Stars and Big Names include Danny Trejo, Udo Kier, Sherry Moon Zombie, Nicholas Cage, Bruce Willis, Sybil Danning, Freddy Rodriguez, Zoe Bell, Rosario Dawson, McBill Mosely, Rose McGowan, Nick Frost, Simon Pegg and Michael Biehn (in missing any of the cult stars that you truly wanted to see me mention please go watch the movie again, point at the screen loudly until they magically appear before your eyes and both you and I will be happy horror fans). So that’s like the Ocean’s Eleven of horror right? Closest to Creepshow in number of famous bodies I would think. The people who made this thing obviously have love for the genre, love for talented actors and actresses; They know where to find and tickle their audiences funny bone. Oh… you thought I forgot one, right? KURT RUSSELL! And his fabulous cars.
Great Posters (see for yourself):
Soundtracks:
First off, let’s talk trailers. Fake trailers that have soundtracks that are from or sound like they are form some fairly old, forgotten films. Next we have Planet Terror with a stunning opening sequence to begin the movie. I mean that saxophone had somebody rubbing one out in the theatre. Remember that saxophone in Lost Boys? Remember how you got to make out with that sexy miss or mister… GRINDHOUSE has got that too, lover. It’s inspired by the music of John Carpenter and used in Carpenter’s films so that’s probably why you love it so god damn much. Move on to Death Proof. That juke box in the background… that’s Tarantino’s (or so I’m told). This is a classic Tarantino soundtrack. It pulls all the punches. I have literally gotten pulled over by the law due to the virility of the music in this picture. I mean Jack Nietzsche… you don’t stand a chance! “Chick Habit” to close the whole thing out… some Ennio. Some Smith. I’m a soundtrack junkie. This is the musical experience you’ve been waiting for if you have remotely eclectic musical tastes and not just stuck on the beauty of Goblin or 80’s metal in your features. Check out smith doing one of the "hair swingin'-ist" songs from Death Proof:
Next… Gimmicks, Novelties and Fake Trailers:
I love film grain. I don’t need the latest Blu-Ray transfer of anything (although I might take it if it has some cool extra footage attached). I grew up on VHS and with antenna television… bad cable and family movies shot on 16mm film (I think… few more tests). I like noise pops. Hisses. I like vinyl. I like retro. I buy the Throwback Mountain Dew and Pepsi in the stores because of the packaging (and because of the taste). I like my shirts scuffed and aged, my Converse black… I like my trailers old and late 70’s early 80’s. I love what these artists did with these pictures (trailers included). Scratch it up, throw dust at it (use CGI to imitate age), scratch it again with something different this time, burn it… It’s more like a celluloid rape scene than film production. Make sure to make it look like there’s a reel missing or that the film has broken or burned.
You know what I love… advertisements for the concession stand. I like hot dogs and even doubly so when they dance and sing. Classic advertisements. Classic sponsorships for non-existent restaurants. MPAA warning shorts involving panthers. Advertisements to go see a movie while you in the fucking movie theatre. And Trailers. I love trailers. I watch DVD’s and Youtube’s and Facebook’s and the end of a VHS tape and the beginning of the VHS tape for trailers. Give me a fake trailers and I’ll watch ‘em. I’ll wait for the movie to come out even though I know the chances are so slim. I love that the faux trailers in GRINDHOUSE gave us Machete and Hobo With a Shotgun. I think of Thanksgiving as a short film and not simply as a trailer created to frame a double feature. Don’t makes me laugh… because I’ve enjoyed the Don’t movies, thought of them in just the same way that Wright’s trailer does and still want to see the movie. Werewolf Women of the SS features sexy women in SS uniforms. One more time… it has sexy women… dressed in SS uniforms… and turning into werewolves. It’s like the hybrid of Night Porter and the Howling. Nicholas Cage as Fu Manchu… makes sense. Make any of these movies into a picture and I’ll watch it, most like love it. The rumor that Thanksgiving and Don’t are slated to be GRINDHOUSE 2 makes me sick with anticipation, mostly because I know it will never happen after the financial let down the first offering gave Dimension. I hope that somebody decides this labor of love is well worth it and realizes they may lose multiple millions just to make it. Then I hope they don’t lose said millions.
I still haven’t figured out why it failed. I’ve read the reasoning given by the critics. I think it probably had to do with poor timing. Everyone said “too funny to be scary, too scary to be funny”. I say bullshit. Horror fans love to laugh and have very refined senses of humor (have you seen the shit we watch?). To scary to be funny… to whom? Probably the church-going Easter crowd who won’t take little fifteen year old Johnny to see a movie called Planet Terror on Easter (all I want in my Easter basket is two tickets to the cinemaplex please). The failure was in the market research not in content. So many Karloff fearing horror fans haven’t seen this one. It’s a failure of marketing (did you see those fucking posters!). I don’t truly know. I know I saw the fucker twice in the theatre and would gladly see it every year in lieu of half the drivel their putting out now which is not to slam on remakes as you may think… that’s a slam on drivel.
Planet Terror has all the blood and gore and guts you’ll need. Has all the action, sex and cheesy acting you’ll need. Has all the one liners (I’m going to eat your brains and gain your knowledge). Dr. Block has three friends… four if you count Fergie! Planet Terror has the most amazing Barbeque you could ever hope to purchase. Planet Terror has a one legged stripper which you ain’t never seen… and you been to Mexico. Planet Terror has useless habits and melting zombies, heads exploding, jars of testicles… Planet Terror is good for strong teeth and healthy bones. Planet Terror challenged Pepsi and Viagra In a taste test and won… because it washed down the Viagra with the Pepsi and fucked the shit out of your ever loving mind!
Moving on… Death Proof is a sophisticated film about muscle cars, the men and women who love them, about socially imbibing alcohol in Austin, TX, eating fine Texas-Mexican cuisine and waking up dead (missing a leg or face). It is also an educational film on how to play the game Ship’s Mast. It is also an review in classic “car” cinema (Vanishing Point, Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry). Girls win. Girls die. Cars die. Kurt Russell laughs. Kurt Russell cries. Quentin Tarantino makes a movie that has the longest false start in the history of cinema (maybe). Death Proof is like Baby from Dirty Dancing; Nobody puts Death Proof in the corner. Death Proof fought Bill Brask and won because Bill Brasky couldn’t stop watching it.
I don’t want to give you a synopsis of the movies. They’ll speak for themselves. This picture runs complete on IFC. Sit down one late night and watch it. This movie is out on Blu-Ray… GO BUY IT (and buy me a Blu-Ray player). The fake trailers are on YouTube for you to watch (some in this blog). Please watch them and laugh. Play them when you’re sad and lonely instead of drinking. Watch them while getting up in the morning when you need a pick me up and forgot to buy coffee. Watch them when you’ve had too much coffee and can’t sleep. Watch them while you sleep. Watch it. Enjoy it. Take your prescription to the pharmacy counter and fill it. Do not watch the separately released version of this film. GRINDHOUSE is one movie and should be treated this way. This isn’t the motherfuckin’ Civil War.
-Dr. Planet Terror
Hold the Drivel… also… GRINDHOUSE!!! (Hold your friend close, but GRINDHOUSE closer)
Also if you think that I duplicated a listing by having Death Proof on this list in addition to GRINDHOUSE you can remove your innards, cook them and serve them for sweat breads.
Day 29 - Your least favorite horror film of all time
The Most Fun You'll Ever Have Being Scared!... FUCKING BLASPHEMY! (that’s the horror movie equivalent of taking the Lord’s name in vain).
Creepshow motherfucking III (yes, it’s one of those kind of entries). I told you we would discuss this later. I didn’t specify how soon it would be until we came to my dearest hatred for this picture. There are numerous ways to lambast a picture. One could just as well offer a stunning and elaborate verbose attack filled with authentic critical remarks. Could be the plot we attack first. The acting. The general flow of the picture. The comparison to the two previous installments. This will be the other kind of review. Lots of curse words, revenge and dreams of paying the makers of this film back with sodomy. The years we waited.
Years. We… waited… years… Did you hear that? Yeeeeeeears!!!
I don’t want to justify this movie with more of a response than I’ve already given, but I feel I have to give you some basis for comparison. I need you to know why you should not support this movie but should in fact try at every turn to prevent this film from making a dime. It had to have lost money. If it didn’t it is our job as horror lovers to actually force it to somehow lose money. We’ll make this short and sweet.
If you purchased this movie, return it. If you downloaded it, share it but with the stipulation that you are only doing so to prevent this film from making any money. After you’ve downloaded it, delete it. If you must watch it know that you will be upset. This is not a film. This is a sellout, a sham, a waste. If you think remakes are used to milk the hearts and souls of the fans than wait till you see this fucker. If you tell me just how indy this movie is, I’ll tell you that the production team assembled to make this picture should not have been given the rights to do so. Didn’t the two original make enough to justify a true expenditure on a new entry to this series. It’s enough to make you want to stop watching movies by this studio any more.
So you want to know what I REALLY think of Creepshow III? Simple: It’s Rape. And not the good kind like in I Spit on Your Grave neither.
Just thinking about this fucker has put me in a shit mood. They’re making a part four… produced by the same motherfucker with no input. HBO Homevideo and Taurus Entertainment should be ashamed of this. King and Romero would be rolling in their graves if they were dead or zombies or whatever these guys will become post-mortem (Gods?).
-Dr. Fucking Terror
I’d like to hire Chuck Norris and Mr. T and Rambo to beat up Creepshow III and then fuck it… in the ass. But I don’t think Chuck Norris does anal.
Oh and if you’ve read a positive or semi-positive review of this picture… they’re wrong. I know that it’s a matter of opinion and that opinions cannot be “wrong” per say. If they are giving a positive review of this movie I assure you, they… are… wrong.
STAY TUNED for Creepshow III being piked up the ass by the natives from Cannibal Holocaust followed by having spikies put through its boobies. Also, we plan on turning this picture into Farmer Vincent’s fritters and telling it that there’s young girl who’s lodged herself under a stairwell in Anderson Hall… Just tell ‘em to call you Billy. Fuckers.
Day 28 - Your favorite horror film that no one's ever heard of –
“She had no one to play with for thirty years...”
A classic film from my youth. No matter how many times I mention The Haunting of Julia to my friends and family they have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about. It’s this little ghost story that you’re sure to hate. Most people really find it drab and somewhat quiet. I disagree whole heartedly. From the death of Julia’s daughter (via apple no less) the movie follows Julie Lofting into a state of honest depression and then… into a tale of ghostly disturbances, murder and a spirit that just won’t sleep. Is it all in Julia’s head? Has Julia’s daughter come back to kill her, make her life miserable… worse?
The music is haunting. It’s more haunting than the movie itself (sampled below of course). Just a little melody on a piano, taken over by a larger, creepier synthesizer. It’s the best of the late 70’s. The quiet in this movie will get you as much as the melancholy score. You wait for the ghost. You wait for the scares to start. If there’s one thing the Haunting of Julia gets right it’s the the concept of “silence” as the second lead in the movie. The notes you’re not hearing are just as important as the notes you do are as important as when you hear them. If you’re not careful with this score, you’ll end up feeling more depressed than frightened, and if you’re feeling depressed than your one step away from understanding Julia just a little bit better. Take this film with a heavy dose of Prozac (or Zoloft or whatever it is the kids are taking these days).
Mia Farrow plays a paranoid, lost soul Is Mia type cast for this ala Rosemary’s Baby? One minute life is normal. Small house, family, normal husband and then death, chaos, can’t trust her husband or her own senses. She pulls it off too perfectly and like I’ve said… her perfect performance will leave you in need of some serious couch time with a therapist. The only thing this movie is missing is Ruth Gordon telling Julia to take Tanus root to keep up her strength in the midst of her lost child. Hell, most likely Ruth would have Julia’s daughter hiding out believing her to be the child of Satan anyway.
This picture hasn’t been released on DVD yet. I still own a VHS copy and have owned several in the past, lost a few, found them again, had a taped off TV copy, and even still remember the commercial on channel eleven. This movie goes by Full Circle out of England (which may pose a whole other, separate problem when attempting to discuss it with horror gurus). Mostly I find that critics think it’s a sleeper and doesn’t compare to half a dozen other ghost stories released during a similar era. Consider the end, if you’re lucky enough to see and be overly critical… built for high school Goth kids right?... it’s a movie that really just needs to find its audience. People who like The Haunting of Julia also like Harold & Maude, listen to the Smiths and drink wine out of the bottle. Be forewarned. Paint your fingernails… you might as well be wearing a “Julie Lofting for Spokeswoman for Better Living Through Medication” T-shirt.
If you haven’t seen it, check it out if you can download it or own a VHS player. Hopefully we get a DVD release someday. By the by, the other movie up for this was Summer Camp Nightmare which was also up for the next category in the 30 Day Horror Challenge (that would be the Guilty Pleasure Category) was up for this category. That one’s available on YouTube, but since I was a kid Haunting of Julia actually gave me the willies. Let’s stick with what works and give Runk the Punk a rest. We will visit him in a future blog along with his “Beef Bologna”. I haven’t figured out why we wouldn’t just put these movies on the 50 best compilations I see on DVD store shelves all the time. Copyrights blow chunks.
I’ve written about this movie before and even compared Julia Lofting and Rosemary Woodhouse before. Both find pictures. This one isn’t nearly as shocking, but it’s the ghost story you’ve been looking for. Also important to note: when you take a bath, move all electrical objects away from the fucking tub. Also, I just re-listened to the music and got scared (and it’s only 10:30 at night). Also to note…
FIND THIS PICTURE!
-Dr. Terror
PS. Any opinions concerning the mental health, musical taste or drinking habits of any movie goer half interested in watching this film is a direct reference to Dr. Terror pre-medical licensing exam i.e. in high school with a slight acne problem and long, black hair. Any similarities to persons living or dead is purely self-reflective.
PPS. I can be bribed with an original vinyl copy of the soundtrack. Seriously. Try it.
“They'll get you in the end”… you know… like in the butt!
Is it this one?
Or Maybe this one?
Definitely this one right?
...
WRONG! (if you didn't pick that up from the title of this blog or from the captioned picture we need to go back to block letters and round hole square peg kinda stuff)
Best question to ask a horror fan(I assure you this is very subjective)… what’s the difference between a Ghoulie and a Critter? Simple answer is that one is a demon and one is an alien. Better question might bet to ask would be what is the difference is between a Munchie and a Ghoulie? The answer, Munchies are perverted and speak in high pitched/helium voices (spend most of their films trying to look up skirts and murder is really a foot note to boobs). So with that in mind, you have a continuity of small critters of the mid 80’s. Probably throw in Deadly Spawn in there somewhere, but let’s get down to Ghoulies (we can’t go through all the embarrassing crap I watched as a kid that has small furry-esque creatures). Am I guilty about loving this movie? Yes, yes I am. I watched it about six months ago after a rather long respite from this series. Why do I need to find a priest to confess my sins to post-viewing? My wife walked in while I was watching it and I got red in the fucking face with embarrassment!
Ghoulies has some of the worst “good” acting of any movie from the 1980’s. That means, the actor tried, hard. Ghoulies isn’t a screwball comedy or at least I still don’t believe it was made to be one… cause it was. It’s meant to be taken seriously (right?). Creepy house. New couple move in. Discover Satanic books and artifacts in the basement. Curious guy with 80’s hair decides he’s a demon master and raises midgets. Raises midgets a few times. Midgets convince him that he can raise demons. Demons run amok. Put a pentagram under your bed, throw a kick ass hair metal mixer party and worship Satan while snortin’ coke off each other’s bellies. I know my description of this films sounds awesome, right? It isn’t that good. That description, with liberties taken, was accurate, but it still not that great. Midgets. In. Armor. Should be the movie of the century. Glowing blue/purple pentagrams, at the height of the Satanic craze no less… should be the movie of the later 80’s right? Nope.
So it’s alright to like movies this cheesy when you show them on Mystery Science Theatre 3000 or when you’re drunk and making fun of it, but to take it seriously is a whole other matter. Ghoulies was the movie that my father recorded right after Mary Poppins when he first learned how to dub VHS. So I’d sprinkle a little sugar on my Legos so they’d put themselves away, fly a kite and jump into a drawing and then immediately worship Satan, have sex on a bed over a glowing pentagram and watch little creatures come out of toilets. I don’t think that was the plan exactly when my father made the recording, and I had already seen Creepshow so hell… it’s fine right?
I’m sure my love of this was part advertising. The cover of the VHS had a cute little green creature popping out of a toilet. I did check the toilet for a good long while after seeing this picture. Also, being a huge fan of the television show and mini series, V, this same creature did resemble the “other” alien baby. Not the star child, the one that died to give the rebels their chance at freedom from the visitors. I’m quite certain I didn’t realize that it was intended to be a comedy. I took it very seriously. The sequels are hilarious at best. I still don’t know what to make of them. I still like all of the series in terms of VHS cover. Good font. Good imagery. Simple, to the point.
This is getting embarrassing. I’m attempting to bolster up reasons for my love for a film that is absolutely abysmal. It was this or Mr. Boogedy and I still think that Mr. Boogedy is a creepy fucking movie. So take a look at both trailers and let me know which way you would have gone. We’ll discuss Boogity at a later date, when its not dark and I can write without hearing that dreaded “Boogity Boogity Boo…”
-Dr. “Tastes Like Chicken” Terror.
Yes, Mr. Boogedy scared me as a kid. He may even scare me now. I think that's truly the kind of guilt this day is supposed to be inspired by. Head... wallowing... in shame.
