Marge Thompson of Nightmare on Elm Street. It's not just because she's a bad parent. She doesn't listen to Nancy. She betrays Nancy's trust. She gets herself good and loaded while her daughter's life is torn to shreds by a man in a red and green sweater.
Basically Marge Thompson plays the image of a mother very well and falls well short of being the caring devoted parent she should be. Especially after a child murderer was torched by her years before who has now returned to kill her only child. Who kills a child murderer and doesn't brag about it to their kids or use it as the threat of a punishment. "Did you know that when you were just a little baby mommy killed a man who would hurt little boys and girls just like you." or "If you don't take out the fuckin' trash right now I'll go dig up Fred Kruger and have him shove his blades so far up your ass you won't sit for the rest of your god damn life... and I buried the motherfucker!"
At first, when I was much younger, I actually got upset when Nancy's mom died. I was confused about the whole burning in bed and then sinking into the bed in a cloud of smoke followed by having her ripped through the front window. I loved that scene. I loved to watch Marge Thompson die. Maybe there was something in my innate childhood brain that said don't like Marge. She's the kind of mother who doesn't give you cookies with your milk because they have too much sugar in them even though milk can contain all kinds of sick twat shite.
So for that I dislike her. She's a sloppy drunk. She bars Nancy's window (and I root for Nancy even though I know how the whole thing turns out). She has a bad relationship with John Saxon... he's so cool, how's that even possible? Now I watch the movie say to myself "Don't you try to save her John Saxon... Don't you dare".
This clip has the added bonus of having Freddy's nursery rhyme in German:
I'm glad she dies. I'm glad she gets pulled through the front door window. Nancy deserves a better mother.
Day 28: Character you most enjoyed seeing get naked –
Trash Return of the Living Dead. I think we can break this one up into a five penny opera (that'a s nickel opera folks). Here goes:
Do you ever fantasize about being killed? Well then it must be time to dance around a cemetery naked. Never had a line been more adequately created for a ringtone.
Flash Dance Trash (Thanks you SSQ for bringing back images of Silent Night Deadly Night to a hornball teen):
Reason 347 not to dance a graveyard naked... acid rain:
Judgement day or... self fulfilling prophecy or... Every Trash Has Her Day.
Zombie... errr Trash in Vaudeville:
Bonus:
Important moments in fan tribute (Spanish word bubble edition):
And of course... there's always this:
It's not really Trash being naked that gets me on this one. It's the dance. The fact that she runs around the cemetery naked until she finally dies. Plenty of ladies were up for this day. Trash plus SSQ = BRAINS!
Day 27: Character you most enjoyed seeing get killed
Wilma The Crate Creepshow. I'm not sure if I enjoyed the comic book kill scene or the Adrienne Barbeau scene more. Both clearly have their pluses. Let's briefly discuss why this is my favorite kill scene and why there might be two different versions of the same kill that have very different memories for me.
I saw Creepshow when I was a kid. Way too young to even consider watching a Rated R movie, but my father let me watch it and he's clearly a parental advisor so it was a blessing. I didn't know who Adrienne Barbeau was. I hadn't really seen her in Swamp Thing yet and I hadn't seen the fog. My dad always reminded me of how nice her ta ta's were. Strange coversation to have with your dad at age 6 or so. I guess that's why I'm a boob man (or am I?).
Hearing Wilma Northup's voice at that cocktail party was no Godsend. In fact I despise it (just as Romero, King and Barbeau had intended). She's cheap. She's kinda slutty. Foul mouthed. Trash. This is perfect. This is a character I can fall in love with (did we mention that Adrienne Barbeau is mega super hot... even in Carnival when she got older). They build up false death after false death and then give you the goods when Henry Northup finally comes through with a little help. Boy do they deliever. Comic book back drop with bright red lighting. "Just tell 'em to call you Billie"... Damn you Hal Holbrook for being a genius actor. Damn you!
Did anyone notice the way Fluffy seems to say "Thank You" to the camera/Henry? Is that intentional? As in, "Thanks for the lunch" or "I really wanted her to shut up too, but that insult about wearing balls for earrings is pretty funny :gurgle, slurp, slop:. I liked the social aspect of the Fluffy/Wilma meeting. Hell, which one of us hasn't wanted told a lie to our significant other in order to get them into the area underneath a set of stairs to have them consumed by a creature discovered during an Arctic expedition in 1834.
Wake up. Feeding time. Turn it up to Volume 11.
So the comicbook version i.e. the graphic novel... why would that version even factor in beyond the "novelty" of owning the Creepshow comicbook? Because you can see Wilma's nipple when Fluffy eats her. Nuff said.
Try not to toss your cookies at this one:
I love this death. Second place might go to the faux Thanksgiving trailer girl on a trampoline, knife up the split snatch. Third place, Francesca Ciardi better known as Faye Daniels from Cannibal Holocaust (due to the controversy and the great rape to decapitiation sequence). I could go on. Let's stop.
Ever feel like you actually want to get the "right" sequels made? Tired of seeing Alvin and the Chipmunks 3: Brittany does Alvin Reverse Cowgirl in the Wild West? Most of us are tired of seeing chipmunks screwing. It's not artistic. It's maddening. The only reason they didn't make a Top Gun part 2 is because they didn't want to call it Topper Gun. The third installment would be titled Toppest Gun or at least that's what Tom Cruise was told by the Scientologists right before they Kosher pickled his brain and marked it Vlasic). In a world where cartoon characters get endless sequels to their poor reduxes of our childhood classics, we can use a good sequel. A sequel made in the fan's best interest. A sequel that does not include suggestive animated animal genitalia (we all know it doesn't exist anyway).
Now I'm going to ask you to go back. Go back to the fan favorite aspiring slasher mock-doc of the the century. Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon. See the trailer below to refresh your memory and lay off the marijuana cigarettes, ya hippies.
Remember how good this movie was? Made you laugh, right? Did Alvin and the Chipmunks make you laugh? No. Remember all that shit I just said about sequels. What's getting made and by whom? Well right now you are in the producers chair. Sort of...
I urge you dear readers... the few, the proud, the bored... to hit the "Like" button on the Facebook page below. Make this your contribution to film history. By clicking the "Like" button you show support for the original, tongue firmly in cheek but still hauntingly good mock slasher bio pic turned actual slasher movie. You also show support for a budding sequel described below (from the aforementioned Facebook page):
Taylor Gentry has a score to settle, and she's not about to let a little thing like Leslie Vernon's disappearing without a trace slow her down. And so, in the immediate aftermath of the Harvest Moon killings, the hunter becomes the hunted. But even as Taylor doggedly pursues her tormentor, she slowly uncovers the deeper, darker secrets of his past, and what truly drives Leslie Vernon in his quest to be the best of all psycho-slasher killers. Mind-bending revelations of family history, sibling rivalry, and even the terrifying prospect that he may not be acting alone... as evidenced by a tattered photo of a young Leslie with a paternal twin... all drive Taylor to the very edge of madness, until she's caught once again in a frenetic race to stop Leslie's second coming and save her own soul in the process! With a slasher film first- death by rabid, stampeding rhinoceros, THIS is the horror sequel you WILL. NOT. BE. ...seeing. Come on, now. You didn't think Leslie Vernon would let his story get out before he wanted it to, did you?
So here's the real juicy part: You have the opportunity to pre-order this movie and... by pre-ordering/reserving your copy, you not only show your uber-support for the film, you help ensure that it will get made. Now there's a whole lotta Hollywood politics behind why it has to be this way. Any self-respecting horror fan knows that studios want to show you Alvin and the Chipmunks vs. Garfield vs. the KY Jelly Monster over and over and over again. Let's show Hollywood who the fuck is boss(Hold me closer Tony Danza). It sure ain't David Seville!
First for more info (because you don't trust me?). This comes straight from the Jett so get on this fast people.
So if you haven't noticed, I've been dropping little "hints" about this particular day in the 30DHCSB. I find it represhensible that the film from which this character hails is only available on VHS or YouTube. While I consider its only tangible media release outlet, VHS, as somewhat of a cult status granting issue, it remains underexposed.T his film is a must see for this generation. Why? Because we are in an 80's retro time warp renaisannce portal thing. Look at the clothes the kids are wearing these days. Have you ever seen so much neon or so much (fuck) teal!? What about the pop music? Lady Gaga is damn near ripping off Madonna at every turn. Don't get me wrong. I like the Ga just as much as you do (alot, right?) but the music is near similar on both pop and indy/college fronts. Complete materialistic obsession. All the classic muscle cars have been completely been done over and re-released (where are my fucking T-Tops!). So how is it that this 80's classic has gone unreleased on DVD or Blu-Ray even!?
Before we answer that question let's address the 30DHCSB question so we can safely say we put a check mark next to it and divulge the "mystery movie" of which we are speaking.
Day 26: Character that makes you laugh –
Stanley Runk (Runk the Punk) from Summer Camp Nightmare. Yes. Summer Camp Nightmare makes me laugh. Runk the Punk makes me piss myself. If it isn't the accent. Maybe its the hair. Maybe its the F.E.A.R. cover. Maybe it's just how whiny he is in the face of Franklin, anarchy and his own freedom staring him down...Fell on his knife? My ass! Oh he's great. He's made me laugh since I was a kid. Not much more to say on this one.
Maybe we should talk about what else Stuart Rogers has been in... Cagney and Lacey. Vamp (as "student"). Buckeye and Blue (as Tony the Mechanic). The Wizard TV show as (Grinder). Was that futile? That was like trying to find the Vicodin you just puked up after drinking half a bottle of Jose Cuervo so you could take it again.
Now that we've exhausted the 30 Day Horror Challenge aspect of this let's do a little talking about the question: So how is it that this 80's classic has gone unreleased on DVD or Blu-Ray even!? (remember we asked it before we talked about Stanley Runk?). I'm going to tell you a bit about this flick and then we're going to talk about why this film is so god damn important and why you need to dust off your VCR and pick this fucker up STAT.
Think of your favorite summer camp movie. Envision the cover/poster art in your head. Is it also known as the Butterfly Revolution. Does the cover look like this:
No it doesn't. It's probably Sleepaway Camp, Friday the 13th (or any sequel there of), maybe it's more like the Burning. Guys, these movies are all excellent. Their sequels are worth watching as well. Chock full o' the horror we love, the slashing and killing we need and the scantily clad teens that fulfill our FDA requirement of Vitamin B (for boobs). These movies are fine. I would not knock them. I would say that Summer Camp Nightmare must be added to your summer viewing iteninarary.
Think of camp. You went to camp, right? After all the movies you watched underage you still got up the cojones to get into a cabin in the middle of the woods with other kids and strange teenage counselors trying to make a buck. My memory of camp is brief. Let me recant: I went to a religious camp for three days. We sang religious songs other than "Kumbaya". I tried to fish in the lake and my ugly stick's reel got tangled so badly that I couldn't even cut the fucking thing loose. The food was bad. Ham steaks. I don't think I can eat hamsteaks without thinking of Johnsonburg (supposed original site for Friday the 13th before the camp pussied out). I remember some kid stepped on a nail and screamed and cried after he had previously paraded around like the king shit of the camp. I remember being forced into a swim class that was way below me because they need to "test" me. I was a fine swimmer... no one tests the DOCTOR (or doctor to be at that point). Let me think... TRAUMA. Not the kind that ends with a hand down your pants. The kind that forces you to hum religious songs that were pounded into your bloody brain over and over and over and over. That was camp for me.
Who trusts camp counselors with their kids anyway? After all our horror favorite camp movies were released would you let your kids go to camp? Even a reputable one? Think of the kids that work at camps. They either can't get a real job or they take the job to make out with co-eds all summer (based on what they've seen in movies). I've known a few summer camp counselors. Do not send your kids to summer camp. Trust me. Don't ask why. If you've already sent your kids to summer camp this summer... go pick them up. Now. If you insist on having your child stay at said camp, breathlize all those motherfuckers and have them show you their chastity belts!
Camp was lacking in my opinion (Everyone must have been wearing their chastity belts). My camp experience lacked a few common threads amongst all camp related horror pictures. Let's list them here for ease.
1. No boobs. - none of any kind. Not even making out with a girl behind the bunk. Nada.
2. No drugs. - while I may have been too young to appreciate what drug use might have been going on, my counselors weren't partying down. Not properly. A camp goer should feel insecure. They need to feel that the person watching over them isn't a goody too shoes (lest you have Angela Baker as your camp counsler).
3. No dance. - We didn't have a camp dance. We didn't listen to bad 70's/80's vinyl and play slow dance.
4. No murder. - barely any blood at all really. If it wasn't for that asshole kid stepping on that nail and getting what he rightfully deserved nothing would have been noteworthy in the violence category.
5. Bad songs... ok, we did have these, but they were fucking religious, Christian dogmatic rambles. I want "Hail to Bus Driver" and the "Happy Camper Song" motherfucker. Jesus has no place at camp. I want hatchets and archery not a bible reading contest. Fuck!
6. Girls showering naked - at least none that I saw. Where was the tit patrol? Nowhere to be seen because the guys and girls were kept so segregated I wouldn't know how to find them. They might as well have blindfolded us before sending us to bed and then fed us salt peter at morning mess.
Enough for you... lacking right?
Our movie of the day... Runk's movie... is Summer Camp Nightmare. Group of kids go to camp with a fairly strict leader in charge of camp operations. This leader gradually takes away everything the kids have come to love about camp. Pornography, graphic punk rock sex songs, freedom of speech. Chuck Connors basically plays Mr. Warren, Nazi for Hire (in Franklin's eyes). So what would any wholesome group of a campers do? They take over the camp. Install their own government (which one might describe as leaning toward facsism, bordering on anarchy). And then... well, chaos just takes over, the campers learn why the adults are in charge and the good kids (the "Uncle Tom kids we might call them) survive and win the day.
Summer Camp Nightmare, in part, dealt with some of the same issues my summer camp experience lacked, but tried really hard with a PG-13 rating to make up for. It's hard right? No blood, full on boobs... cancel the word fuck. Summer Camp Nightmare was playing against a deal with a loaded deck. Still it prevails by subsituting some very clever plot devices in place of the camp goodies we're used to.
Can't say "fuck" in a PG-13 movie; Go get Runk the Punk (remember him... this blog is about Runk). Have Runk the Punk and friends cover "Beef Balogna" by F.E.A.R. You don't need to say "fuck" when you have men singing cock affirmative songs about giving ladies the hot beef injection in a clever but funny manner. Especially when said song is done in front of the head of the camp and all the little kiddies (gotta teach 'em sooner or later).
Can't show violent deaths with hemoraging organs, brains and implements of distruction hanging from appendages? Show strange obstacle course like set ups that must be crossed in order to gain control of the summer camp. Show that people have died crossing the rope bridge (which is strictly forbidden). It's like having Jason Voorhees pop out of the forest with two machetes instead of one. It's like Angela Baker stuffing Ally down that pit toilet and then actually dropping a deuce on her. Ok, no it's not, but it is a clever way to get around explicit violence. Creative, suspensful obstacles. It's like Double Dare only no Mark Summers. No slime.
Can't show boobs/bush... much... Segregate the camps! Girls on one side, boys on the other. Make some room for the holy spirit. The film takes place at Camp North Pines for Boys. Fright Rags: Can we get some shirts printed up ala those nifty Camp Rolling Hills T's floating about the net. We could even do a Camp Arowak vs. Camp Rolling Hills vs. Camp Crystal Lake vs. Camp North Pines for Boys battle royal! Who will win?! What will be left of them!?... moving on.
The other thing you lack when you make a PG-13 horror flick is a budget. You need to keep everything on the cheap which pretty much turns your killer into a guy with a sack over his head or a girl in a Camp Rolling Hills T-Shirt...OR A BUNCH OF GUYS WITH COMMANDO UNIFORMS ON CONTROLLING THE LIVES OF CAMP MEMBERS! Brilliant cost savings in the face of adversity.
Let's see what else? Oh yea... you can't show rape so just accuse individuals of rape and then they will be forced to take whatever consequences are dealt to them. The audience barely knows what's real. I mean... I guess there's the word "NO" over and over. It's like reality only the accused doesn't get justice (death) in reality... only in Summer Camp Nightmare (spoil this! it's from 1987!)
The reason to watch Summer Camp Nightmare, be it on VHS or YouTube (or DVD motherfuckers! Get on that shit!) is because it plays off traditional camp horror while restricting itself to its rating and getting creative to do so. I don't know that it was intended as a horror movie, but murder at camp is an automatic qualifier in my book. If Meatballs had murder in it... HORROR MOVIE! You've got some truly memorable characters, some funny dialouge and really some not so bad acting in general... even for the 80's. This is prime for a remake if somebody remembers the film exists.
Here's the first of several parts of the post on YouTube. Download it. Burn it. Love it. It's a VHS rip so don't expect quality. That's why we need to give it the Popcorn treatment ala Kristy Jett (go donate to her labor of love!).
All I want is a double dose of my...
-Dr. James the Punk (Terror)
Tagline: "Dear Mom, The camp director is dead. The counselors are locked up. And the kids are out of control. Having a wonderful time. Love, Marvin" ... but as IMDB points out... NO CHARACTER NAMED MARVIN IN THE MOVIE, BITCHES! Spoooooky.
Bill Hudley from House of 1000 Corpses. Yes I realize that Bill Hudley (Rainn Wilson) gets killed and turned into a mermaid man, art house piece/sculpture do-hickey. Yes, he's tortured by Otis Driftwood. But think of all the positives here!
You are Bill Hudley. You are on a kick ass sight seeing/strange roadside attraction tour across some beautiful countryside. You get the opportunity to see Captain Spaulding's Museum of the Strange and are given an intimate history of Dr. Satan (bad ass so far right).
The girls you're traveling with. Hot. They're hot. That's always good right? I mean I guess is. Moving on.
Sure, you go out in search of Dr. Satan in a rain storm and your tire gets spiked by a family of madmen, but you don't even know that their responsible yet. All you know is that you picked up a Sheri Moon Zombie on the side of the road and... again... she's hot. Now you need to drive her home where all your problems will be assuaged. Her brother can repair that tire. Cool, right?
After escorting Baby Firefly to her home she invites you in. You are given a "tastey" cup of hot cocoa. Yum. She changes into her PJ's and proceeds to hit on you. She even plays with your glasses giving the pretense of a "dress up sexicapade". Unfortunately it all ends when the rest of your companions including your girlfriend showing up, but isn't it obvious that Mother Firefly might also be a couger and ready to pounce on you (that's Karen Black, mother fucker!).
After a delightful, masked filled family dinner... you are entertained by Baby performing a classic piece out of the American Songbook by Stothart and Ruby called "I Wannna Be Loved By You". How often does anyone get this kind of entertainment/hospitality. She's a true off-Broadway show girl. What a make up job. Look at that dress! Stunning.
As you know, it all goes down hill from there, but to be Bill in those last minutes of your life is a dream come true. You get to spend your brief remaing time surrounded by Sherri Moon Zombie, Karen Black, Bill Mosely and Sid Haig. Nuff Said.
Sure I was a kid when I saw it, but Tourist Trap is just as frightening now as when I was a little doctor of terror even if it is shown midday on television with happy, bright, bubbly commercials. Mr. Slausen aka Davey gets to me. The whole damn concept gets to me and I love it. I could watch this flick daily, get scared and be fascinated at the same time. Here's why.
Mr. Slausen (Chuck Connors),upon initial introduction, is a seemingly nice man. Mid-western bording on the Southern accent. Sure he's lonely. He spends his days caring for the remnants of an old, forgotten roadside attraction involving uncannily, realistically produced mannequins in historical settings (this would be the tourist trap you've been hearing so much about). Slausen isn't necessarily a threat even though he has a propensity to sneak up on folks in vulnerable positions. Maybe that's why I'm still a little creeped out by him; he's unassuming, gentle, actually pleasant. One thing I can tell you dear readers, never trust a guy without a phone. That's a very forgotten about cliche. If they don't have a phone, they are unsocialized, have no one to call and plan on killing or eating you.
By the time his duel personality breaks through as Davey (also played by Connors because Connors is a bad ass motherfucker) and we realize that this guy builds a mean mannequin, in fact hundreds of them, and has psychic powers it's too late. Your jeep is unstartable. You've been divided up into groups and broken all of this Willy Wonka-esque rules. You've wondered into his maze of a house and his entrancing museum of "almost too realistic mannequins". That would be the trap part of the title. He actually spins a web of kindness only to have you exactly where he wants you. Stuck. Waiting to be "mannequin-ized".
As "the other" Mr. Slausen, Davey, gargley-voiced, homicidal mad man, Chuck Connors is terrifying. How many killers take the time to catch their prey, strap them to a table and then cover them with wax. Furthermore, how many killers than tell their victims how pretty they are... Oh, so pretty before disfiguring them, murdering them via suffocation (or really being scared to death) and then transformed into part of the roadside attraction? What a mask too. The Davey mask stomps all over Jason's hockey mas in my humble opinion. It would make a great Halloween costume, no? You bet it will.
Connors uses an amazing voice as Davey to separate himself from his kind, all be it aloof "brother". It's a voice that all of us males can do. It's the voice we use to scare little kids when telling stories around the campfire. It has the dual effect of scaring them while making them laugh. If you do it well enough, they don't laugh at all and cry for their parents and that's how you know you shouldn't be allowed around children any longer. Tee hee hee. The voice has stuck with me. As Dr. Terror I use this voice while writing these blogs. Since it's in print form you probably can't hear it in your head, but there's been more than one occasion when I found my inner voice taking on Davey/Slausen... or Jame Gumb... or Jordy Verril, Slausen being the creepiest of those three. It's like having multiple personalities... let's move on before I digress too far down that rabbit hole, shall we?
Other reasons Slausen/Davey is terrifying... his weapon of choice is your own body. He kills you by scaring you to death. I mean, it looks like suffocation, but really... YOU'RE HEART EXPLODES!!! Bwahahaha. I'd ask Slausen to prove that his statement about his ability to make people's hearts explode, but I've seen Scanners and I'm sure it's just thought bad when it happens to your heart as with your head. Maybe it's not the wax mask, scared to death aspect that actually blows up your heart. Maybe Slausen actually blows up your heart with his telekinetic abilities. That comes off as this guy will toy with his prey... he'll play with them like a cat would play with a mouse and then he'll simply kill you with his mind powers.
Having written about this before you all know that I saw this movie at a young age with my older sister who was also scared shitless of this picture. We still compare notes to this day only I don't think she's actually perused the movie since she was a young one. Hopefully we change that soon and reacquaint her with the scariest bogeyman I know.
See Chuck Connors in Summer Camp Nightmare. You won't regret it. It's on YouTube. In fact, here it is so you can see that this guy can play the sweet, caring camp instructor (falsely blamed for molesting a child and then murdered). Also... enjoy this FEAR cover.
Day 23: Biggest WTF moment a character placed themselves into -
I am a beautiful woman. I am going to go vacation, far away from the city, before the existence of cell phones and talk to strange men that should be in prison or in cages. My name is Jennifer Hills, and I might as well have placed myself in the Twilight Zone for the complete mind fuck of a place I wandered into. Your traveling into another dimension... a place not only of rape and rednecks but of revenge. You're next stop... the Grave... one on which somebody would surely spit.
From the opening sequence of the original Day of the Woman film I was slapping my head saying, "Stay in the car. Don't talk to that gas station attendant. Don't tell them YOU'RE ALONE!" And she pretty much did all those things despite my gentle coaxing from beyond the screen. No, it is definitely not Jennifer Hills fault. Anyone who blames Miss Hills needs to be sure and return to the fraternity or football locker room immediately (man, I can be harsh). I just absolutely couldn't believe the bread crumbs laid down right to her vacation house door.
Granted the hillbilly retards have home field advantage. They have a speed boat. They control the food lines in and out of her vacation destination. They are masters of disguise (if you call hangin' around a gas station a disguise). They are cunning... ok, they are not cunning. They simply have the numbers (all though not for long). I know it's the very point of the movie. Woman is raped. Survives. Revenges her little heart out. I still gasp when she falls into their poorly lain trap. I still yell at the screen or rather I've learned to keep my thoughts to myself but psychically will her to turn around.
Only second to this when Mari Collingwood approaches Junior Stillo for grass. That's a big no no. That's a huge no no. I know it was the 70's and all, but the summer of love was in '69. Now that's a What the Fuck moment. You have two of the "most shocking movies ever made on my top what the fucks. I probably also have to go with the police chief turned ventriloquist dummy in Killer Klowns from Outer Space. Didn't see that coming at all. I also happen to be a fan of the scene in Dolls where Judy's mommy gets it or maybe where one of the British punk rock girls discovers they other has been turned into a doll. Fuck! Too many good ones.
Jennifer Hills wins. I think she gets the raw deal on this whole thing. She's a smart, savvy woman. She just ends up on the wrong side of the neck... the redneck.
Erik, The Phantom as played by Lon Chaney in Phantom of the Opera… Love is not a motive. Nor is a box seat at an opera. Revenge, now that's motive. I could see the Phantom throwing a fit if someone pushed his organ down a flight of stairs as a joke. I could see if someone over-barbequed a hotdog on the gril and then made it sing songs from behind a mask and called it Erik... Kill motherfuckers for that. Hell, drop a giant chandelier on an entire opera house because your mother abandoned you and daddy hit the bottle too much then hit you. I'd buy that.
Love? Are you serious? I will kill you all because I am horribley disfigured and need to make strange demand in an attempt to catch a glimpse at my lady fair. What a crock of shit. If you like her, go up to her and ask her out on a proper date. Ask her father if you can "go" with her or be her escort or whatever it is they do in "phantom time". This kind of horse puckey is akin to passing a note on a small piece of paper in home room that says "Do you like me? Yes. No. Maybe" and you have to check one... only motherfuckers die when the Phantom passes a note.
He doesn't even get the girl after hopelessly romantically kidnapping her. Don't get me wrong. Lon Chaney's make up is a genius and the cinematography is brilliant for its day. Its brilliant for now. I love catching this film randomly on PBS. I really would like to spend more time on silent pictures, but as of late most of my film viewing has been in the late evening when I am most prone to doze off while viewing movies. I wouldn't want to miss anything. The only thing I'm truly saying about this puppy is Gaston Leroux wrote the original novel he forgot that there are plenty of ways to skin a cat... or terrify an opera house and there are perfectly acceptable reasons to do so (saw a bad show and couldn't get a refund).
Phantom, Erik... Spirit... go win her a cupie doll at the boardwalk and call it a day. Put your organ away (uh hhmmm... not that one... meow!). She's only a girl. Use your words.
Day 21: Character you would need a translator to speak to –
Seth Brundle post-Fly conversion.
I have searched for human to fly translators and fly to human translators. They are not available on Google. They do not come up in any search enging I have scouted (that means one doesn't come up as a search engine result on Google).
It has come time to ask a very important question: Do I actually have anything to say to Seth Brundle (Brundle Fly Bitches)? No. No I don't. Why? Seth Brundle (Brundle Fly) is very very very dead. Perhaps one of the saddest endings in a horror/sci fi history. Maybe it's Gina Davis getting all emotional. Maybe it's the sight of that poor guy's melted hand (don't eat the marinara). Maybe it's the little chirp Brundle fly makes after being combined with an inanimate object.
The reason to want to know what Seth is saying is to better understand his dying moment. When the human fly puts the shot gun to its head... what are its actual thoughts? I know. I know. Kill me, right? I just want to hear the inflection in the fly-human accent. Maybe it would work like a GPS. It could translate into any accent I chose.
Insect to human translators must be at least ten years off. Killing bugs would present a problem if you knew what they were saying. Or maybe it would be too easy to kill even more bugs. All you'd hear all day long... FOOD FOOD FOOD PROTECT THE QUEEN FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD VOMIT FOOD FOOD FOOD SWATTER!
Just remember that bugs have a heart too. I actually cannot say that scientifically they have an organ that would be the bug equivalent of a heart, but you get the picture. You gotta use your words. You gotta listen. Seth Brundle could have been a contender if Gina Davis only understood the You, Me and the baby concept. Maybe a fly to human translator would have assisted in getting the synthesis juices a-flowin'.
Nora Manning House on Haunted Hill. No relation to Eli Manning of the New York Giants although he kinda sounds like Nora after she's found severed heads in her room after he loses and blows another season. Don't believe me. Here's the instigation and then...
Let the screaming start:
I love House on Haunted Hill. Not just for Vincent Price. Not just because the music is fantastic. The screams are incredible. The severed heads are pretty gruesome even for a William Castle picture. I'm not entirely sure how to write about a scream. I mean... Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... My scream is weak. Hers is more like AHhhHHHHHhhhHHHHhhhhHHHHHhhHhHhHhHhHhhhhhHHHHHHHHH!!! Or something ...
To compare Nora Manning's scream to a car horn would be somewhat accurate. How about comparing it to the sound of the breaks of a locomotive with a bucket full (yes... a bucket!) of cats in between the brake and wheel plus one or two sheep (make them lambs) and add a hint of the high pitched squeal of a kazoo followed by a glass breaking. Make that expensive Lenox Crystal. Done.
You have a cavalcade of amazing actors and only a short time to show it in. I first saw this as a Good Time VHS release and still remember the little letter "G" in the corner. I used to think it was part of the original picture. I can't even fully remember which holiday it was, but we got it for my mother. It's her favorite (or was her favorite... things do change).
It's fitting that this entry comes up today. Yesterday was Father's Day and today is... the day that mom got surgery on her knee. I assure you this a great thing, she's doing well and I bet she's thoroughly enjoying the pain meds (don't we all).
So Nora Manning... you're not hot, but you have an excellent scream. Screams are hot, so you are, in fact, blisteringly hot. Gentlemen, don't fill up your dance cards just yet.
-Dr. Terror (kinda still crushing on Annabelle Loren)
Oh and aren't the coffin box - gun case, party favors to die for? Used those at a party once. Will definitely use them again. Brilliant but unrelated to the scream.
When you were a kid I bet there were movies that you wanted to see, but your parents thought it best to keep your ignorant of them. For most of you, this is probably an Arnold Schwarzenegger action flick or maybe something with a bit o' boob in it. I on the other hand had the absolute pleasure and honor of having a dad who's bar was set just a little bit higher (or lower depending on your grading scale). While most parents were worried about a little S-E-X, my dad was worried about a little R-A-P-E or a little Sadism... maybe a little out and out witch torture.
You probably all had nice normal childhood's. I feel that I had a pretty damn fine one myself. Played with lots of Legos,Blocks, He-man action figures... Since I was a horror fan at such a young age, my father fostered that in me. I don't think it was necessarily a conscious effort. He wanted to watch what he wanted to watch and, within reason, why couldn't his progeny watch as well? I truly don't feel that anything I watched as a kid be it the Omen, the Exorcist, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street, Jaws, Creepshow, Green Slime, Godzilla... none of 'em had an adverse effect on me. That god damn Care Bears movie... that might have fucked me up good and proper just lil' bit. Mr. Boogedy really got under my skin. Never ending Story? Forget about it. All this talk about feelings breeds sissy pansy boys.
I submit for your perusal a list of a few choice selection from the Harris... ah hem... Terror household's ban list (at least until I was sixteen or made my way to Long Valley Video all by my lonesome). I remember staring at the VHS boxes of all these films. I'd pick them up and say, "Dad, can we get this one?" It was always know with the same response to follow. Getting creative and slipping the box cover into the stack of acceptable ones didn't work either. Below is the reason why I couldn't see each movie. He was right. Absolutely right. Country's have even banned these.
This is a little blog called...
FATHER KNOWS BEST:
Mark of the Devil
Dad wasn't exactly clear as to why I couldn't watch this Udo Kier classic. He always sighted the words "too sadistic". A better term for this puppy would have been exploitation. Now when you're ten years old and perusing the video store walls this one jumps out at you. Scantily clad women, accused of witches. The VHS box says, "Boobs inside" without actually saying it. I don't think ten year olds need to see exploitation movies (gotta wait till you turn twelve sonny). At ten you can't understand why the gore is funny. You can't separate the boob from the blood or even why a director might put the two together in the same shot. Jokes based on stereotypes become lessons rather than exceptions to the rule. Good call dad. No trauma, no foul.
Incidentally, when I finally did see this one I wasn't all that shocked. I think I had already been watching the Faces of Death which, however faked, still was a step more gruesome than this 1970 classic. Good thing it was Ken Russell's the Devils that was on that shelf. Rule of thumb, kiddies: Don't show movies to your kids that were released with Vomit Bags or that were rated V for Violence.
I Spit On Your Grave
Again, scantily clad lady on the cover. Eye catching. Known also as Day of the Woman. Described as "rape revenge". Stars Camille Keaton. Why wouldn't you let a ten year old horror fan see this? Could be some valuable life lessons in this one akin to Boys Life magazine for scouting right? Kids barely understand what sex is much less rape. Probably need to keep this one out of their Twizzler stained fingers tips at least until 17 (when they discover that only high school jocks rape people... everyone knows that). Beyond just the concept of rape this one has 30 minutes of eye gouging rape. Anal rape even. This one's fuckin' bad. Made it to the Video Nasty list in Britain and didn't turn back.
Yes, it's an anti rape movie. I'm not condemning it for adult viewing nor would I ever. In fact both this and the remake are two big favorites of mine. I really wanted a T-shirt of the original, but the thought of explaining to laymen what the movie was about had me a bit tossed. "Yea, so this girl goes to the countryside and runs into these semi-redneck guys who really wanna get with her, but they don't stand a chance so they figure they'll take care of things in a more... forceful type manner, see? Only she's not havin' any of it and... then somebody gets their willy sliced off..." You can't say these things at the water cool at work (the water doesn't taste quite as nice afterward). Moving on.
Last House on the Left
This one had me stumped for years. Why couldn't I watch Wes Craven classic? I mean that guy did Nightmare on Elm Street. What could be worse than that? Hell, I even saw Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2 at the next door neighbors among a haze of cigarette smoke, cat urine and women learning about how to properly dispose of their maxi pads (in the toilet? the big ones... they don't flush! and then there's lots of blood! whoa!). So what the fuck could be so bad about Last House on the Left? I had even seen the Valentine's Day edition of Penthouse by age ten... this was preposterous.
Not.
After having watched Last House on the Left years later I found myself completely in love with it. Funny at times (tongue in cheek of course). Nice kill shots. Blow job turned late night snack. Chainsaw battles. Junkie's killing themselves. Women pissing their pants on command... what's not to love!? Do I fault my father for not letting me see this one? No. It's a good one to keep away form the little ones. How exactly do you explain the forced lesbianism or forced pants pissing to a kid? It's probably not something you want them repeating in school to their other friends (explaining all the curse words to them on the back porch in second grade, that was educational at least).
David Hess is now one of my favorite actors (for this role only). The Collingwoods are two of the greatest set of parents a girl could have.
Bloodsucking Freaks
Years later, when I found out this picture was distributed by Troma (directed by Jerry Reed) I knew why dad didn't want me seeing this one. Troma is boobs and blood and guts, oh my. This was no different. I don't even think my dad saw this one, but the woman with her head in the vice on the back, that probably gave it away.
Plenty of good reasons not to let the youngsters see this one. Brains drunk through straws. Women used as tables. Full frontal jungle bush. Midgets eating human flesh and the ultimate Italian hot dog, penis on a bun at the end. This one's a bit much for most adults much less the youngens.
Rocky Horror Picture Show
The good ol' Rock Opera that started the whole world singin' along. My dad actually gave this one a chance with me. We rented it when the girls were out of the house. I don't think he fully knew what it was about and I certainly didn't. To me it had a great VHS cover and a bad ass title. Worth the watch right?
I think my dad shut it off at the first sign of homoeroticism. Probably at Sweet Transvestite. I don't think the film is inappropriate. I just don't think he knew how to explain the whole thing to me. We really weren't enjoying it anyway. The music wasn't quite to our liking (then... now... I love the god damn thing). So we shut it off, watched something else and were no worse for it. I'd watch it years later, love the music and performed it in my living room every other day.
Funhouse
Last but not least on our movie's dad said no to... Tobe Hooper's classic. It's a blast having seen this on 35mm this past year. A true honor. Why didn't dad want me to watch it? Stanzi gets naked. Stanzi who? You know, Christine Ebersole from Amadeus. Maybe it was the strange monster-deformed man sex scene with the strange old lady.
Looking back this one wasn't nearly as bad as Dad had made it out to be, but it was creepy. It is marvelously creepy. That carnival still gets me... Alive, Alive, Alive! People with hatchet's in their heads. Women in various states of undress. The adult tent, go go strip tease. The opening "Myers-esque" slasher scene with the rubber knife. Hell, I think my buddy owned that damn rubber knife. Question I always had... was that kid really interested in seeing his sis's boobs? Now that's just weird. Maybe dad was trying to avoid putting that little gem in my impressionable brain.
Dad let me see some movies that he probably shouldn't have, but he did so responsibly. Most of the movies, Exorcist, Omen, were cut and taped from television. Can you imagine me seeing the "Jesus Fuck Me" scene at age six? How would I have looked imitating that scene with my mother's nativity set? He wouldn't let me watch the Omen off TV because it was "too cut up". Now that's looking out and mentoring a fresh young horror fiend like I was.
He made sure I watched the classics: Phantom of the Opera, Dracula, Frankenstein, Commander USA... he had me watching everything. What he didn't show me himself, I watched from the hundred plus VHS tape library we accumulated off television. It was a treasure trove of classics. He had me watching Five Million Years to Earth and Dr. Terror's House of Horrors before I saw Pee Wee's Big Adventure! The Howling... man, the list is endless.
Thanks Dad for giving me this gift. My only regret was not showing you the Lego Orca and Shark I built to reenact Jaws every day of my summer vacation. It's probably the reason I never did well at sports. You know what I say? Let the jocks have their sports. We've got a giant VHS vault, cheese doodles and Black cherry soda from Shoprite!
-Dr. Jimmy
And no... I didn't see Cannibal Holocaust until just two years ago. I'm glad I waited on that one though not because I couldn't handle it... but because I was in no place earlier in life to appreciate the soundtrack as much as I do now. Enjoy readers.
